L'amour d'un Frère

"Mommy!" Came the shrill shriek from down the hall.

I sighed. Raoul had screamed. I would have known that even if I didn't hear the girly voice of my ten year old son. Why would my Erik ever scream? He was tough, unlike my other son. Truthfully, sometimes I wasn't completely sure I'd given birth to two boys.

"Yes, Raoul, I'm coming." I got up and strode down the long corridor to my older son, who was shivering in fear. "What is it now?"

"It's Erik! He-he-he made a lasso!" Erik was only seven, yet he had this ability to scare the wits out of his older brother. I passed it off as Raoul overreacting – a lot.

I chuckled. "That's not so bad, Raoul. He's always been fascinated with horses. Maybe he just wanted to play cowboys," I suggested, trying to put some semblance of reason into Raoul's head.

He shook that head vigorously, blonde curls bouncing all around. "Nope! He-he-he said that he was going to…to…something-jab me! And it wasn't a joke! I swear it wasn't!"

"Now, Raoul," I stated firmly, "Erik is your brother. Your younger brother, even!" I shook my head. "He's incredibly talented, and so are you. I just wish you two could get along! My brother and I—"

"Yes, momma, I know. You and Uncle Jeff were the 'best pals.'" His face darkened and he muttered, "but Uncle Jeff isn't some crazy evil demon out to get everyone in his path."

I slapped his cheek gently. "Come on. Your brother loves you, and you should love him, too."

"Tell that to him next time," Raoul spat.

If this sort of occasion did not happen regularly, I would have laughed at him. But he would just get even more enraged then, so I refrained.

"Really, Momma! I'm not joking!"

"Oh, fine. Where is he, anyway?" I scanned the corridor for open doors, seeing none.

"I don't know." He saw my fruitless glances around, and muttered, "It's not like he'd leave the door open while doing his evil stuff. You won't find him just by looking."

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes, but decided to humor the son present. "My, Raoul, have you considered joining your school's drama department? You'd fit right in!"

"Momma!"

I was nearly doubled over laughing, but managed to yell for my other son. "Erik!"

"Yeah?" Came the muffled reply.

"Could you come here, please?"

Practically before I finished my sentence, he was beside me, his attentive eyes gazing at me through the eye-slits in his full face white mask. I didn't ask about it; Raoul had some far-fetched story of Erik getting beaten up one night and so wearing the mask to hide his 'deformity.' Who's to believe that? Raoul is known for his exaggeration, I must admit.

"Yes, Momma?"

Raoul glared at him. "Shush, Raoul. What has he ever done to you?" I reprimanded.

"Momma?" Erik asked again.

"Erik, did you make a lasso and threaten your brother with it?" I tried to be firm but could not prevent those traitorous wrinkles at the corner of my mouth that betrayed my amusement.

He looked hurt and said innocently, "What? No! I was pretending to be a rancher in the old west, herding cattle."

"Cattle? You mean me?!" Raoul interjected.

"No, silly," Erik began in a slow voice one would use in explaining something to a stubborn child. "Cattle are cows," He repeated slowly.

"Oh, you little rat—"

"Raoul!"

"Momma, may I go back to what I was doing now?"

I nodded. "Of course, sweetie."

Erik turned and disappeared into another room.

"Raoul, he is so innocent! I don't want your mind influencing him, do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably," Raoul muttered.

Satisfied with the turn of events, I sent him off. "Now go and try to play a nice song for me on the piano."

"Alright," he said grudgingly, as he stomped off to the music room.