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Constance, Chapter 5 |
| Written by August Blackwood | |
| Friday, 13 June 2008 | |
I went out to a nearby café with my brother and discussed some things with him. He seemed to have received a full blow of the traumatic situation, and I found it to be very distracting, being his sister. Although trained in therapy, I felt it to be inappropriate and somewhat embarrassing to initiate a therapy session with my own brother. My own brother! I've never heard of such an occurrence these thirty two years I've lived. And I didn't suppose he would enjoy having to answer silly, invading questions from his sister either. That being said, there was absolutely no way I would ever attempt to do such a thing. I was sitting by the window, the sunshine falling through. A few stores lined this area of the island, but it was peaceful because there were few people who drove around here. I didn't need a car myself. But, why did and why do I use it? My parents bought the car for me. I had no need for it, but I felt a surge of guilt run through me when I considered putting it to waste. Gas wasn't expensive, at least to me, that is. I just used the car for its convenience and for its rather lavish appearance. I had my medium-sized cappuccino in my left hand while my right gently held onto his, and he laid his head on the side of the small table. I saw demonic eyes glance at us earlier, and so I came to consider that it would have been best for us to have gone elsewhere more private, because this was obviously not the location to recover from a shocking experience. There wasn't much talking circling around the café and it was uncomfortably silent, seriously aggravating the situation. Unfortunately, though I tried to make him move, he would not budge, and he looked, practically speaking, dead, staring into mid-air, or perhaps underneath the skirt of the young blonde across the mid-section. "Roadrunner," I said, and I heard snickers from various voices close by. Roadrunner, what a strange name. My evil parents... I saw some families look out the window from their seats to see if this "roadrunner" I had just mentioned was, in reality, standing outside of the café, running around for all to see. Such an absurd idea. "Beep beep," a child said from behind my seat and I heard his mother silence him. Luckily, I went away, after literally dragging my brother with me, and we were approaching our rooms, when the police stopped us in our tracks. "Would this be the Dole siblings?" the oldest, and by far, widest officer said. "Yes," I answered. "May I speak with the both of you?" "Yes, sir." My brother looked absolutely terrified. It was obvious by not only his silence but also by his nervous fidgeting. "Sir? I beg your pardon, but, would it be possible if you could speak to me only? My brother..." I looked behind myself and the officer nodded and gestured for me to come with him, "all right."
"So, again, around what time did you go into his room with your brother?" The officer jotted some things down into his notebook. He was talking to me like I was a child. "Around 5:00 am, maybe a little before." "And it was because you couldn't sleep." "More or less. I couldn't' go back to sleep."
"All right!," he said, standing up from his seat. I saw Roadrunner come to the door. The officer looked at him skeptically and nodded for me to go. "If you have any more information of if anything happens, please contact us. Thank you, Dr. Dole, for your...contribution." I hastily walked out of Mr. Bartholomew's kitchen and walked around some men who were zipping up the body in a bag-like container. I wrapped my arms around my brother's and looked back at the officer. He was a bad, bad man. He will fall endlessly into the caverns of hell for looking at my brother with that disapproving expression. I turned with a swift movement of my head and walked down the hallway to the stairs, furiously clacking my high-heels onto the floor. I approached my bedroom with my brother, still holding onto his arm. I watched both of our feet walk side by side, over the hard surfaced floor. Finally, gathering courage to speak to him, I looked up at his stern-looking face and said, "Roadrunner? About your lover?" My brother flinched a little, shaking me to an abrupt stop right at my door. He turned around to face me, "You mean, my girlfriend?" I nodded, "or boyfriend." He laughed uncomfortably, "No, no boyfriend. How did...?" "The...bond between us told me," I said, humorously. Humorous if he could get what I meant. "I can tell just by looking at you," I said, "or maybe, that bond is lying to me." He shook his head vigorously, his silky brunette hair swinging back and forth. I giggled, putting my hand up to stop his awkward movement. "Please. I don't want to talk about her right now," he said under the palm of my hand. "Good. And I don't think you should talk to her about what happened this morning. She might..." I hesitated, "...not trust you anymore." "You mean that I can't express myself to her? That I can't let her understand me?" His voice rose in what was obviously rage. I glared at him, "What happened this morning has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with you. Don't bring it in between YOU and HER! This is only between you, me, and the police (perhaps). NO ONE ELSE!" He breath took on a deadly silence. I sighed and said my apologies. He cocked his head in some form of shock that I was not certain of. I brought my hands to his and pulled him into my room, telling him that we were going to talk there. We sat on my bed and began talking. It wasn't much of a conversation, but I was certain he was enjoying his stay with me. He was slightly uncomfortable, though. I saw him, at one point in the middle of our sibling talk, look around the room nervously, perhaps because he had never been in a girl's room before. That was, of course, ridiculous because his room looked exactly the same. Maybe it was the smell... "Do you remember when we were little kids, running around our orchard?" I asked him, in curiosity. I wondered if he did remember. I was about two years older than him. If I was five when I "stole" his keys, he would have been three. It wouldn't be possible that he still had a little piece of our past. But, perhaps it could. Most can't remember anything before the age of three. But someone might. Surprisingly, he nodded his head and said, "The keys," and he started to holler in laughter with his deep voice. I joined in with his chorus, filling the room with joy that was lost only a moment ago. "Roadrunner?" I asked him quietly after the laughing somehow died away. "You can share this room with me tonight. I was thinking you might need comfort." I soon looked away and stared at my hands that were neatly folded onto my lap. I waited for his answer. "Sure. Why not?" he said, "But where will I sleep?" "In my bed, of course," I laughed, peering up at him with my mischievous smile again. "But you're a girl!" "I'm not just any girl. I'm your sister." "Uh...right." I nudged him in the shoulder with my elbow, "pervert." He meekly laughed and said "sorry" for the first time in my life.
Roadrunner lied on the left side of the bed, rigid-looking and arms crossed over his chest, creating a mountain in the covers. I was facing him and he was facing the same direction I was. Time passed by and the clock ticked slower than I ever heard it tick before, so slow I thought it died several times. Roadrunner remained stiff as a stone and so did I, only not as much as he. Silence brewed agitation in the still, dark night, and shadows seemed to creep from the lit lamp. I stared at my brother's back and my mind wondered to the scent of his masculine cologne. My brother finally shifted, but for only a centimeter or two. He wasn't sleeping. I watched the clock tick every minute, waiting for him to fall asleep, waiting for him to let go of all that was troubling him. He needed my help. He couldn't do this alone. But, perhaps I was disturbing him by my presence more than easing him. An hour passed by and not a single movement was revealed from his side. His exhaling and inhaling remained unusually brief and frequent. I heard him shift again, his back sliding a little closer to me, this time. And so I knew. I had not failed, yet. He was calling out for me. Reaching with both of my hands, I wrapped my arms around his waist, gently cuddling him into my arms. I felt his body suddenly release its tension and he bellowed out a long sigh, unleashing his first deep breath after that lonely time period. He turned around and faced me; his eyes open only a fraction of an inch. He softly sniffed me, or so it seemed. It could have been something else. He closed his eyes completely and instantly fell soundly asleep. I leaned over his body, letting go, but trying not to disturb him, and set the alarm clock to 9:00 am. I looked at my brother's face and brushed some of his hair out from his smooth skin. How adorable he looked when asleep, just as if he were three again.
Somewhere in the middle of my contemplation, my head dropped and all became nigrescent.
Copyright 2008 August Blackwood |
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| Last Updated ( Tuesday, 17 June 2008 ) |
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