Uncle
Early October, 1952…
"Hello Robbie!" greeted a familiar voice.
I turned and smiled at my big sister. "Michelle!" I hadn't seen her in several weeks.
A frown marred her pretty face. "What's wrong, Robbie? I can tell you're unhappy about something."
I sighed and admitted, "I miss you, Michelle. You're never around any more."
My sister gave a weak smile of understanding. "I miss seeing you as well, Robbie. But life isn't mean to stay the same forever."
"Yes, but did you have to marry that guy so soon?" I complained.
"Robbie!" she chided, tousling my hair. "I love Patrick, and it's time I started a family of my own." She smiled fondly and looked down at the bump she had developed. "Oh, the baby's kicking again! Do you want to feel?"
"Uh…" I wasn't sure that I wanted to have anything to do with a baby who would take even more of my sister's time. Besides, babies weren't something a fourteen year old boy were very interested in.
"Here, it's easy." She took my hand and placed it on her swollen belly. "Feel that?"
I nodded and pulled my hand away as soon as I politely could.
"That's your new niece or nephew. Isn't that exciting?"
"Of course," I replied half-heartedly.
"Cheer up, Robbie. It's not the end of the world. Even as a wife and a mother, I'll always be your big sister. I won't forget about you."
"Promise?"
"I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die," she said sincerely.
That was good enough for me. Or so I thought.
A few weeks later…
I sat with my parents in the hospital waiting room. We waited nervously for the news. Pat's parents lived in another state, so we'd promised to call them on the telephone as soon as we heard. After a tortuously long wait, Pat rounded the corner. He was a likable man, so much so that my parents accepted him even though he wasn't from a well-to-do family like us. Even I couldn't constantly resent him for taking my sister away. Looking at his face, I could see that he wore a proud but weary expression. "It's a boy!" he announced.
My parents cheered, and some of the other occupants of the room joined in. I was more concerned with the disposition of my sister. "How is Michelle?" I asked as soon as I could make myself heard. "Can I see her?"
Pat shook his head of red hair and his eyes grew worried. "The delivery was hard on her. She'll need to recover before she can see anyone."
"What did you name the baby?" my mom asked.
"Jonathan," Pat answered with a wide grin, before returning to his worried state. "I'd better get back to them." He left the room, and a feeling of unease settled in the room.
Later…
I was starting to feel sleepy when a stone-faced doctor came up to us. "You're Michelle's family?"
"Yes, we're her parents," my father answered.
"And brother," I was compelled to add.
"Please, come with me."
I followed, filled with a sense of dread. Something was terribly wrong.
When we were seated in a private room, the doctor gave his news. "The birth was too much for her. She lost a lot of blood and… we did everything we could but… she didn't make it."
I knew what that meant, and there was no point in denying it. The words cut through my heart like a knife. A twisting knife. I heard the sounds of weeping, and realised all three of us were crying. Soon Pat – his face already tear-streaked – joined us, and there were four.
Some days later…
I looked on sorrowfully as the casket was lowered into the earth. Michelle would never smile again. There would be no more comforting hugs from her, and no more sisterly teasing. I could no longer pretend to be tough and be protective of my big sister. No one would call me Robbie ever again – only she did that. Now only memories and emptiness remained.
My mother dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and blew her nose. All Michelle's friends from her school days were crying too. The infant in Pat's arms began to wail and I turned to look at the tiny life. Jonathan, my sister's killer. The seemingly helpless babe had taken away my best friend. I could never forgive him.
Silently I wondered why the Good Lord had let this happen to such a kind person, and promised that I would dispense God's justice on the murderer. My nephew would pay, for the rest of his life. As the dirt was shovelled over my sister's final resting place, my eyes wandered over the inscription on her headstone.
Michelle Lyn Kinsey O'Neill
March 9 1939 - October 20 1952
Beloved daughter, sister, wife, and mother