Harry Doesn’t Have A Brother

Harry doesn't have a brother.

There are no people who, walking along the path of life, would not drag with them a pile of bitter regrets about what they did (or did not). If you meet a person who does not regret a single act of his, my advice to you is: run away from him with all your might.

Harry's burden of regrets, as you will see, is extremely heavy. I will tell you about one deed committed by him in his childhood. It still haunts him to this day. I probably will not achieve anything by submitting it to your judgment. But, I hope, it will become a little easier for someone when he understands how many more terrible mistakes others are capable of. You see, Harry doesn't have a brother. However, in August 1991, he still had him.

∗ ∗ ∗

Every summer, their parents sent Harry and Alex to their Grandmother's farm for at least a month. That was motivated by the need for them to consume the gifts of nature and clean air.

These trips left two impressions in Harry's memory. Of course, there were many interesting things. But the feeling of a serene summer was greatly spoiled by Grandmother. She was as far as possible from the image of a kind fairy-tale Granny who would bake donuts and tell a fairy tale at night. Frankly, she was a disgusting, half-mad, vicious vixen who brought her quiet and accommodating husband to the grave. Harry hardly remembered his grandfather. Grandmother was still relatively tolerant of Harry but hated her second grandson. The more difficult it was to understand the selfish position of the parents, year after year, giving their sons to the care of this old and sick woman. They were aware of her character. But there was only one answer to all the protests: "Listen to your Grandma. She's old, don't upset her."

Harry was afraid of her to the point of convulsions.

∗ ∗ ∗

That summer, he and his brother were 9 and 12 years old, respectively. Alex, as the eldest, was charged with keeping an eye on Harry, and they spent almost all the time together. Other farms were quite far away, and there were no other children their age. So the boys were content with the games they invented for themselves: a tree house in the woods behind the house, pirates on a makeshift raft, stealing raspberries from a neighbor's garden - a traditional boy's set. Grandmother introduced an extremely strict daily routine, and God forbid breaking it. For understanding: she did not hesitate to take up a twig if the boys were late for the table even for a minute, did not follow her instructions in the garden quickly enough, or went to the "wrong place". And she always became aware of all their violations. "Wrong place" was practically everywhere: the forest, the highway, a large ravine, a neighboring farm, abandoned cowsheds, a general store at a crossroads, and, of course, a river. Every evening, the brothers told her stories about how innocently they spent the day: holding hands, walking in the meadow, and picking strawberries. "Don't even try to trick me," she squeaked, narrowing her eyes. "I’ll find out everything if you’re lying."

Things went on as usual until one day Harry and Alex were "lucky" to find a cave.

∗ ∗ ∗

For two days in a row, almost non-stop, it rained. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer were finished. The small black-and-white TV showed mostly static. It was not interesting to explore the same attic for the hundredth time, and Grandmother categorically stopped the attempt to make a swing by throwing a rope over the ceiling beam. Being in the same small house with her was almost physically hard. Therefore, as soon as the clouds parted, the boys broke free with merry cries.

By a roundabout way, constantly fearing surveillance, they reached a wide ravine overgrown with fierce nettles, through which a tree had fallen long ago. That tree and the threat of falling from it were an understandable source of amusement. Part of the area that belonged to the farm stood on a high hill, steeply dropping to the river. The ravine sloped gently in the same direction and, in some places, was at least ten meters deep. At the bottom of it, coolness, shade, a babbling stream, and the inevitable scratches and nettle burns were waiting for you, not to mention hordes of mosquitoes. One side of the ravine was notable for swallow nests; the boys went there, first along a tree trunk slippery after rain and then under the sandy edge of a cliff dotted with mink nests. For a while, they tried to see something in the nests (they found the skeleton of a chick), and then the noisy gulls suddenly attacked them, flying in a flock, touching their hair and faces with their wings. Not expecting such speed from stupid birds, Harry made the wrong move and rolled down with a scream.

When, clinging to the bushes and grass, Alex carefully came down to his brother, Harry was already considering his discovery, forgetting about a dozen fresh scratches and a tattered T-shirt. Part of the clay slope, as it were, slid down under its weight, revealing a narrow horizontal gap of only half a meter in length.

It was dark in the crack.

It blew out of the crack.

Maybe it was there before, but most likely, it was a two-day downpour that provoked a landslide. Great luck for young explorers.

They dug through the ground until dinner time and widened the gap enough for Harry to crawl through. Almost immediately, the cave expanded into a kind of chamber or grotto with walls of damp, cold clay where you could sit freely. There was not enough light, but the boys saw that the narrow passage went further and seemed to be making a turn.

Laundering near the street pump, they swore not to tell a single living soul about the find. It's difficult to convey their excitement as pioneers. In addition, they now had the most secret headquarters in the world. That summer promised to be interesting.

∗ ∗ ∗

For two weeks, lying to Grandma, the boys enjoyed their secret. They had a flashlight and the digging tools (old hoes and a shovel) treacherously stolen from the barn. Every day, observing all possible secrecy, they climbed into the coolness of the cave and organized headquarters: they made a supply of food, leveled and covered the floor with cardboard, cut out shelves and niches in the walls for a couple of candles from the nearest general store.

The main task was to find where the cave ended; a draft indicated the presence of a second exit. A narrow and crooked manhole led out of the grotto. In the beginning, it was spacious, but as it went on, it narrowed. They crawled over it, one after another. There was only one flashlight, and it was given to the one who crawled first. Little by little, the boys widened the tunnel and climbed farther and farther, but things went slowly: they went about a meter and a half in one day, pushing back the dug-up clay. Then they had to blindly crawl back, feet forward. It was much more difficult. The width of the hole did not exceed the width of children's shoulders, and in that dark, claustrophobic-narrow space, it was extremely difficult to even breathe deeply. Several times, one of them got stuck in the hole, and that brought fear to the brothers.

Difficulties did not stop the boys. The traversed path was carefully mapped on a double notebook sheet, and at night, plans for the next day were discussed in whispers. In general, the cave went in an arc to the right, as if trying to return to the ravine and down. They met one branch, but it ended in a dead end, literally a couple of meters from the main trunk.

Speleological exploration continued. Until one day, Alex, sniffing behind Harry louder than usual, said in a muffled voice, "Wait ... I'm stuck."

∗ ∗ ∗

That day, Harry crawled first. They were about eighteen meters from the entrance to the cave. Harry was so eager to get past the difficult rocky area that he didn't take care to widen the tunnel at that point. Alex... He was bigger than Harry. And he was stuck in a narrow place and could not do anything at all.

The brothers didn't begin to panic immediately. But when, after an hour, Alex could not move a centimeter forward or backward, having tried all the tricks, hysterical notes appeared in his voice, and Harry tried to sniff as quietly as possible.

Three hours later, both of them, in despair, sobbed excitedly and screamed "for help" with all their strength - without any sense at such a depth. Harry begged Alex to try grabbing onto his leg one more time so that Harry would pull him forward. But Alex screamed that he was in pain, that he was suffocating. Harry tried to shine a light on him, but he couldn't even turn around to look at his brother - they were sprawled under the earth, and exploring the cave did not seem so good at all. At some point, in a frantic attempt to break free from the grip, Alex twisted his body a little - and got stuck completely, blocking the way back for Harry too. The children were trapped, and no one knew where they were.

∗ ∗ ∗

Alex was still older. Trying to calm himself, he explained his plan. The only way out was for Harry to crawl forward, get to the second exit, and then call for help. In general, there was simply nothing else left, although the chances of success were minimal. But Harry had a shovel and a flashlight, and the tunnel ahead widened a little as far as there was light. The boys agreed to call each other every minute, and Harry began to make his way forward, wriggling like an earthworm.

Panic and despair clouded his mind. He endlessly crawled, crawled, and crawled, tearing his hands, knees, and clothes. His brother's screams from the darkness grew quieter until they became meaningless, echoing, muffled howls. Harry was hoarse and no longer tried to yell back. There was light ahead. He got out of the ground, scattering lumps of damp mud, at the very bottom of the same ravine, at its beginning, next to a stream and a pile of garbage that the inhabitants of the surrounding houses had thrown down for years.

Weeping with happiness, the boy struggled to his feet and examined himself. He had to rush for help — but where to go? And what would Grandma say? She would kill them. She would kill them both. Looking up, blurry from tears, he saw Grandmother's head over the edge of the cliff. She looked straight at him, a dirty and miserable violator of all her rules, and her eyes were so vicious.

Harry passed out from shock.

∗ ∗ ∗

When Harry opened his eyes, he saw a darkening sky above him. The boys missed dinner time. The whole body hurt. And then he realized that he just couldn't. There was no way he could tell Grandmother (of course, the fact that he saw her on the slope was only a figment of his imagination) what they were doing or what happened. Nausea rolled up in his throat at the mere thought of recognition. I have already said that the boys were very afraid of her. Now you understand how much.

Although, of course, these are all just cheap excuses. Harry washed himself, swearing to himself that tomorrow he would save his brother on his own.

∗ ∗ ∗

"Where is your brother?" Her voice was cold, calm, and squeaky like a pair of rusty door hinges. She didn't say a word about the boy's appearance or being late. Harry shrugged.

"I don’t know. We quarreled. He hasn't come yet?" a pitiful, obvious lie.

"Not yet. Wash your hands and eat. The plate is on the table."

Nothing more was said. Harry tossed and turned in bed for a long time, imagining his brother trapped in the cold earth as if buried alive. He had nightmares.

∗ ∗ ∗

In the morning, Grandmother found a job for him in the garden, so it was impossible to shirk. He collected Colorado larvae in a jar under the heavy, unblinking gaze of an old woman, who was sitting on the porch in her chair. Having managed to sneak away only after noon, Harry rushed through the gardens to the ravine.

As soon as he climbed into the grotto, he heard howls and groans. The boy called his brother and crawled to him.

God, Alex was so glad. He asked when help would be, why it was taking so long, if the adults had gathered with shovels and something else about the rope. Alex spoke excitedly, laughed, and stamped his feet. He's been in the tunnel for 24 hours. In complete darkness.

Stumbling, Harry explained to him that help was not forthcoming. It meant Here I am, Al, and I will help you. Alex was silent for a while, and then he kicked his younger brother in the face. Harry crawled back, trying his best to convince him that it would be better for everyone. Alex agreed. He didn't have much of a choice.

Harry dug this way and another, ran after a long hoe and dragged his brother by his feet to terrible cries of pain. He made his way down the other side, through the creek outlet, and when they were face to face, Alex spat at Harry.

Harry dug under his chest, told him to exhale, and tried to pull him out. The boy brought him candles and matches so that there would be light in his cave; after all, Harry took the flashlight with him. He brought water, a couple of apples, and food from the kitchen.

But Harry couldn't get him out. Not on this day or the next.

On his second day of futile attempts to save his brother, Alex swore he would kill Harry as soon as he got out of there. He told how he would break Harry's fingers one by one, gouging out Harry's eyes with his penknife. Harry was crying, and so was Alex. Harry dug, but his strength was not enough.

"Help me!" Alex shouted. "Help!!"

Climbing out of the cave in time for dinner, Harry heard his brother screaming and laughing in its depths.

After spending another night in the cave, Alex stopped cursing Harry, only whimpered softly, and did not want to let go of the candle. He drank water greedily. He begged to tell everything to Grandma. He begged but was already without hope. He apologized for saying they weren't brothers anymore. They had never spoken in their entire lives as they had that day, by the light of a dim light among the narrow walls. At dinner, Grandma said that since Alex never returned, the police should be called.

The sin of cowardice is the most terrible of sins.

And, as you already understood, Harry never said anything to anyone.

Many people agreed to take part in the search for Alex. Harry lied, saying that he had last seen him near the woods. They combed the forest and found their tree house. But Alex was not found. When Harry came to his brother's cave, he had already spent the last candles and did not react in any way. Harry thought that in his emaciated, dirty face with bulging, half-mad eyes, something very important was missing. It seemed that he licked the moisture from the walls and chewed clay — there were traces of nails and teeth all around. Harry said he didn't bring him any food because that way he would lose weight faster and be able to get out. Alex, without any interest, agreed. When Harry left, he didn't make a sound, just lay there and stared straight into his younger brother's eyes. Harry crawled back to the touch and kept staring at Alex's receding face until it disappeared around a bend in the tunnel.

The next day, a gloomy father and a tearful mother arrived. Harry sat in his room; he was strictly forbidden to go out. The policeman and his father asked him again what had happened. Harry hated to lie, and it disgusted him that deep down, he was glad that he had escaped punishment. But he rejoiced all the same. The search continued for four days. Some people came and went, accompanied by Grandma's heavy gaze. Finally, in the evening, Mom came up, hugged Harry, and said they were going home. The boy begged her to let him take a last walk alone, at least for a few minutes.

He crept to the entrance to the grotto and sat there for a long time, not daring to crawl inside so as not to stain the new clothes brought by his mother. From the black hole came a barely audible singing — more precisely, a lowing without words. There, deep underground, his brother, in the dark and alone, was humming a song.

They left in the morning.

∗ ∗ ∗

Harry is now 35 years old and has a wife and a son. He doesn't have a brother. His father died of a heart attack in 2010. And Harry thinks that his father suspected something until the very last day. Grandmother died in 2003. Her farm could not be sold. Harry went there a year ago: a log across the ravine rotted and fell. The man went down to the place where his brother's cave began, stood for a moment: nothing, only earth overgrown with grass. Memory returned to him that very strange melody, sung without words.

And by the way, the disgusting old crone knew everything. The dirty clothes and earth in Harry's hair — she was watching the boys. Harry saw her that day, over the cliff. She put only one plate on the table when he got home. She knew what was happening.

But she never liked Alex.