NIGHTMARES
by
Goosefire
(as told to me by Cynthia Brady)
This is the story of the first time I slept with my brother Bobby; notice I didn't mention sex, I said we slept together, and I'm so glad. Here's how it all happened:
My sister, Jan, had the attic so I had our old room all to myself. I was in a deep sleep when I started having a dream so scary I don't think nightmare does it justice. All I remember was Bobby was killed, and the emotion it left me with was terror. I simply couldn't lose Bobby no matter what.
I sat up in bed, shaking and feeling my heart race; my breathing was also fast and harsh. I had only one thought: Find Bobby!
I put on my slippers and my robe and ran through the bathroom that connected the rooms, looking for, and finally finding, Bobby alive and well. I admit, I ran over to his bed and threw myself on it. He was awake in a moment. His sleepy eyes saw me, and questioned: 'Cindy...what...?' Then he stopped.
They say, No man is an Island. Bobby is. By that, I mean simply that he can influence others. You've heard the term 'Eye of the Storm'? The calm center? Bobby carries his own calm eye with him. The moment he saw me shaking, crying, and breathing hard, Bobby bit back whatever he planned to say and simply put his arms around me and let me put my arms around him. I could feel some of the fear and pain leaching away as if Bobby was draining it, and replacing it with his own calm center.
'Cindy, what happened?' 'A nightmare.' I replied. 'A really bad one. I lost you.'
'I need to ask a big favor. Can I stay here tonight? I really can't sleep alone, and I'm too big to ask mom and dad.' Bobby raised his eyebrows and I realized I had lost my robe. The nightgown I was wearing was short; exposing my legs and barely covering my panties. Instead of staring, Bobby let me blow my nose and lay my head on his shoulders.
'You certain?' 'Absolutely! I don't want another dream like that.' 'Ok.' We pulled his bed away from the wall, so we wouldn't crawl over each other if we needed a bathroom visit. He moved to one side and I laid on the other. Bobby has always been able to read me, and I was still very much afraid. 'C'mere sis. I bet somebody needs a hug; I know I do.' With that he simply let me sleep in his arms; I had no more nightmares.
The next morning, before I could return to my room, Jan came looking for me and found me in my brother's bed. Before she could say word one, Bobby had an arm around her and whispered something to her. I couldn't hear what was said, but it got her attention. Jan never mentioned it again. As for me, I'm grateful for a brother who truly loves me; I know this because I mentioned my short nightie to him and all he said was, 'Damn!' Then he snapped his fingers. 'I guess I missed my chance.' Bobby isn't merely my brother, which I value, he is also my Hero.
Here ends the tale as told me by Cynthia Brady.
Postscript: My research into the two youngest Bradys yielded the following information: It is a known fact that not only did they love each other, they were also in love with each other. At some point, Bobby Brady married and has a son who is his likeness; Cynthia Brady married and borne a son, giving him the same name as her Hero, although whether this is coincidence or not is unknown. It is also unknown whether she is currently married as some reports label her as divorced or separated. Further research is needed. Here ends my writing.