READERS: Thank you to everyone for their positive comments and reviews and for taking the time to read this story. I've put a lot of heart and soul into this and your encouragement is very much appreciated!

Again, this is just FICTION.

The next few chapters were the hardest for me to write. I tried my best not to cry myself when I wrote them. I am a soft heart and it was not easy. I had to break it up into several parts. I wanted to just get it over with but Sig wouldn't let me.

Edgar was startled by the soft knock. He took a second to take a deep breath before answering.

"You can come in," he replied without looking up.

Sig opened the door. It took him a minute to scan the room. Finally, he saw his brother, looking totally dejected and lost, sitting in the corner on his bedroom floor. The irony was not lost on Sig that Edgar had unconsciously put himself in the corner. His little brother looked like the loneliest kid in the world.

Sig stood in the doorway of the room and leaned against the doorframe.

This was the start of the third and, by far, most difficult conversation.

"Hi," Sig said softly to gain Edgar's attention.

"Hi," Edgar replied just as soft and without even looking up off the floor.

If anyone else had walked in right then, they would have thought this was just the start of an everyday type of conversation. In reality, it was far from that.

"Do you want me to shut the door or leave it open?" Sig asked, not wanting Edgar to feel like he was trapped.

Edgar figured Norm wouldn't be home for a good, long while and there was no one else in the house. Yet, somehow he felt better with the door closed.

"Shut, I guess," Edgar replied, still studying the floor, but shifting over out of the corner to lean against the wall. He kept his knees bent in front of him, hugging them with both arms.

Sig turned and closed the bedroom door behind. Now I feel trapped as he stared at the back of the closed down. Putting those feelings aside, he turned back around and looked at his brother.

He waited a minute for his brother to look at him but Edgar just continued to stare at his shoes.

"Edgar," Sig said softly, "please look at me."

Edgar didn't want to look up but disobeying was one of the many reasons he was in this situation. He lifted his gaze towards his big brother. When did Sig get so tall, Edgar wondered.

Sig was so taken aback by the expression of regret and shame on his little brother's face that he thought his heart was going to explode. He wanted nothing more than to grab him, hug him and tell him to forget the whole fucking thing. Everything would be fine. We'll just keep on going this way and things would work themselves out. God, now I sound like Norman. Now is not the time to be like their soft-hearted middle brother, it's not what Edgar needed.

Sig gazed at his youngest brother and said with certainty, "When this is over, things will be better, I promise." Sig secretly reinforced to himself his promise to spend more time with his brothers.

Edgar didn't know how anything could ever get better but he liked the idea of this being over.

Sig came into the room and sat down on floor next to Edgar, not on the bed or at the chair of his desk. But right next to him, at his level, their arms almost touching. Sig leaned back against the wall and couldn't help but be reminded of what was sticking out of his back jeans pocket and the reason he was here. He left it tucked away, hidden for now. He didn't want Edgar to get frightened. He'd see it eventually anyway.

Edgar watched his brother walk across the room and sit down next to him, somewhat surprised that Sig wasn't carrying anything in his hand.

They sat quietly next to each other for what seemed like an eternity, neither one knowing how to start. Then Sig took a deep breath and finally spoke, "This is what we are going to do. You get to ask me any questions you want, anything, I don't care what it is and I am going to give you a straight, honest answer, no matter how hard the question. I get to ask you any questions I want but it's your choice to be honest with me or not." Lead by example, Sig reminded himself. Oh, God, Edgar, please just follow my lead. "We'll go from there. Sound like a plan?"

Edgar didn't even know where to start, he had so many questions. He wasn't thinking of the questions he would be asked in return. He silently promised himself that he would be honest with his brother. He turned slightly and looked at Sig.

"Are we going back downstairs to the kitchen?" Edgar asked.

"No," Sig replied firmly.

Edgar was starting to think this wasn't going to happen. They weren't going back downstairs and his brother didn't bring the strap with him. That prompted the next logical question.

"Aren't you gonna punish me?" Edgar asked thinking what the hell, I've been up here sweating bullets for nothing. Shut up, idiot, this might be a good thing.

Sig knew his brother must be totally confused at this point and wanted to explain some things to alleviate that confusion.

He took a big sigh and answered his brother honestly, " It depends."

"On what?" Edgar asked.

"I will tell you how I plan on punishing you and then I need you to decide at the end of our Q & A if you still want me to do it or we ask dad to come home when he calls tomorrow. I think when you came up with this solution, you didn't know what you were agreeing too. I just want you to be sure that you are ok with ME handling this, MY way, and not letting dad take care of it when he gets home," Sig explained, although he already knew the outcome.

Edgar knew in his heart that even if Sig said he was going to cut him up into little pieces with a chainsaw and leave him for dead on the side of the road, he'd rather go that way then have his father come home and have to move the family into the poor house. Regardless, he was dying of curiosity over his big brother's plan. What was that about a cat?

Edgar said, looking back down to the floor, "Sig, I trust you with whatever plan you come up with. Do you want me to go get the strap and bring it up here?" Edgar thought maybe mentally it was too hard for Sig to get the darn thing so he volunteered to do it himself.

Sig reached his hand out and lightly touched his little brother's arm. Edgar was a little shocked by the unexpected touch and looked at his brother. "If I'm going to do this, I'm not going to use the strap," Sig said quietly and then added, "I could never use that on you," with meaning.

Edgar was secretly relieved but confused at the same time. He then asked the next logical question, "How do you want to do this then?"

It was a good question that deserved an honest answer. Sig shifted a little nervously and started wringing his hands. He looked away from his brother because he couldn't say it and look at him at the same time. Once you say it, Sig, you're stuck with it or he will never trust you again, he reminded himself.

Edgar recognized how nervous his oldest brother was and started to think maybe there are worse things than the strap, like a 2x4 or lead pipe, otherwise why would Sig be so nervous. Didn't think of that, now did ya, smart ass?

Sig swallowed hard and said so quickly Edgar almost didn't understand him, almost anyway, "Me sitting on the bed, you over my lap, pants down, I am going to spank you with my hand over your boxers and then I am going to use the paddle." Sig buried his hands in this face, embarrassed to even say it. Get a hold of yourself, Sigurd, YOU'RE embarrassed, can you imagine how Edgar feels? He's the one that has to actually to go through it. Well, I guess we'll go through it together.

Edgar was immediately suspicious. Big brother was breaking all kinds of traditions long established in this house and there had to be some kind of hidden agenda. Edgar had a feeling it was an agenda that he was not going to like. Still, all things considered, the plan didn't end in his death and he trusted his brother to do whatever he thought was right. Unfortunately, hearing about the plan prompted more questions than it answered. Edgar's first question was the most obvious one.

"We have a paddle in the house?" Edgar asked, wondering why he did not know this before and how his big brother did.

Sig felt this was as good a time as any so he leaned forward and retrieved the item in question from his back pocket, untucking it from underneath his shirt. He brought it out from of him and held it out for his brother to see as proof of its existence. He folded his knees and balanced the paddle onto of them, hoping that his little brother didn't freak out.

Edgar's eyes grew big. "Dad has a paddle. Why didn't he ever use it?"

"It's not dad's" Sig answered flatly.

Edgar didn't quite get it. "Well, whose is it then?"

"Whose do you think?" Sig asked, hoping Edgar would figure it out.

Edgar thought about it for a minute. If it didn't belong to their father, then it must have been….

"Mom?" He asked in a whisper, not even believing what he was saying.

Sig simply nodded.

"Mom had a paddle! Why? She NEVER spanked us, ever," Edgar wondered out loud.

Sig already knew before he walked in the room that he was going to have to share with his brother a deep, dark hurt he had carried around for a long time. Damn that promise of honesty.

"Mom never spanked you or Norm..." Sig replied with meaning.

Edgar could read between the lines but he had to ask anyway because he couldn't hardly believe it. "Mom spanked YOU?"

"Yes, once, a long time ago," Sig said, turning several shades of red in the process. "Would you like to hear the story?"

Edgar could see that Sig was embarrassed and he was sorry that his brother was clearly uncomfortable with this sharing this information. Still, he had to know how his gentle mother could ever do such a thing. It was like finding out there was a different side to her that he never knew existed.

"Ah, hell yeah, I want to hear the story," Edgar answered, not able to keep his curiosity hidden.

Sig nudged his brother playfully with his shoulder for being rude. The obvious curiosity in his voice was not well hidden.

Then Sig started to tell the story.

"I was 4 years old, too young to go to school. Dad was away fishing. Norm was about 3 years old I guess but he wasn't home. I don't remember where he was, grandmom's maybe. You weren't around yet."

Sig stopped and added, "Those were good days," he gently teased his youngest brother. Edgar smiled at the teasing. Sig thought it was good to see him smile.

"Anyway, I was bored without Norm and getting into trouble all over the place. Mom was trying to make dinner and I was really pestering her. I was getting into things, spilling things over, making more of a mess for her to clean up. She must have warned me about 10 times that if I didn't settle down she was going to put me in the corner but I still didn't listen. Finally, she had had enough. She picked me up and took me over to the corner. She turned me around and told me to stand there until I was ready to listen to her."

Edgar had clocked enough time in the corner himself over the years to know that this was a very believable story. Where had it all gone wrong?

Sig took a deep breath, this was the hard part, he knew but continued, "God help me, Edgar, but for the life of me, I don't know why but…I called her a bitch."

That would be about where it went wrong, Edgar had no doubt.

"I don't even know where I heard the word," Sig added quickly, sounding ashamed.

"Dad," Edgar answered without blinking an eye.

Sig laughed a little. "Yea, I guess I heard dad using it when he talked about the boat or the guy at the bank or something like that. But he never used it about or towards mom. I didn't know what it meant, but I knew it was a bad word and I knew I would hurt her if I said it."

Sig came back to the present for a minute and his eyes got a little watery. "I'd give anything in the world to be able to take it back," he said, looking towards his brother with tears in his eyes. He wanted to somehow let Edgar know how sorry he was for hurting their mother. Maybe he still needed some kind of forgiveness.

Edgar immediately regretted being so anxious for Sig to share this story. It was clearly a very painful memory for him to share and he felt bad that his oldest brother was still carrying around the pain of it. Edgar nudged his brother's foot with his own. "It was a long time ago, Sig," he gently reminded him, trying to easy some of the pain.

"Still hurts all the same," Sig said softly. He got quiet for a minute and collected himself. Can't break down now.

"Anyway," he continued, sucking the tears back down and shaking off the memory, "I could tell by the look on her face I had just crossed over to the "Big Trouble" list of offenses and I got scared. Mom didn't say anything. She just left the kitchen, me still in the corner. She came back a few minutes later with this." Sig pointed to the paddle. "She took me out of the corner and sat me down with her on her lap. She told me that I had hurt her very much and that she was going to punish me for saying such a bad word to her. She put me back in the corner, bent me over her arm and gave me four hard licks with the paddle. I, of course, was crying after only the first lick."

"It hurts pretty bad, then?" Edgar interjected. He figured if something like that could make his big, tough oldest brother cry after only one lick, it had to be bad. He wondered if Sig was telling him this story for a reason, like maybe he wanted Edgar to know exactly what he was in for so he could make an informed decision.

Sig looked towards his little brother with sympathy. "I won't lie to you. It stings enough that I remember it 14 years later. Not as bad as the strap though, little brother. Guess you'll find that out on your own. But I really didn't cry because of the pain. I cried because I knew I must have really hurt mom to make her do something like that. I felt horrible. I cried for so long and so hard after she spanked me that I must have scared her something awful. I remember she picked me up and took me to my room and stayed with me till I could calm down. I must have fallen asleep in her arms because she woke me up for dinner a little while later. She came and sat down on my bed. I could tell she had been crying. She told me she was sorry she punished me like that. She said she would never do that again, she just couldn't, and that she put the paddle up on her shelf in her bedroom closet."

Sig thought about this, "I don't know why she told me where she put, though. I didn't care where it was. As long as I never had to look at it again was good enough for me. Then she told me that it didn't mean we were going to get away with things, which you and I both know we did, A LOT, but that dad was going to be handling the "big" stuff from now on." This would be the day that the "List" was born. Sig finished his story, "And, as you know, dad has ever since."

"Up until today," Edgar added.

Sig was slammed back into the present with the force of a freight train.

Edgar looked at the paddle resting on his brother's knees. He didn't know if he had permission to touch it so he reached his hand out in front of it and stopped, waiting for Sig to give the ok.

Sig saw that Edgar was curious about it. He tipped his knees towards Edgar, making the paddle slip right into his brother's hand.

Edgar held it with reverence. Despite its intended purpose and design, this was something that belong to his mother. Therefore it automatically had value and special meaning. He understood with total clarity why his oldest brother selected this type of spanking, even though it brought back very painful memories for him. Edgar had to be honest with himself. It looked like it would sting. Would it be worse than the strap? He doubted it, but it would bring its own kind of hurt.

Edgar held it and asked his brother the next question, a difficult one, in a quiet voice. "How many…licks?" he swallowed hard and looked at his feet again when he asked.

Sig knew exactly what Edgar was asking but he wasn't ready for that question yet. He already had the number in his head but he wasn't ready to share it at this moment. "I'll tell you when we get there, kid, ok? Promise. I promise I'll tell you everything that's gonna happen before it happens, IF (Sig knew by this point there weren't anymore ifs, but he said it anyway) it happens" Sig added, not sure that his brother was going to go through with this now that he knew how it was going to be done.

For Edgar, there were no IFs anymore either but he agreed to formally make his decision at the end of the Q&A with his brother so he let go for now. Edgar was concerned about several things at this point. One of which was why his brother wouldn't commit to the number of licks just yet. Maybe his brother hadn't decided because he was still angry. Oh, God, Sig, please don't do this angry.

Edgar asked, "You still mad?"

Sig read the meaning of this question easily. His brother was asking him if Sig was going to decide the amount of licks out of anger and not set a limit. This must have been a very frightening thought so Sig reassured his brother quickly, "No, I am not the least bit angry or mad anymore, ok? Just…disappointed, I guess."

Ok, lets go back to angry, that may not be such a bad thing after all, Edgar thought, because disappointed I can't take. The knot in his stomach grew ever tighter.

Sig knew from personal experience how much it must have hurt to hear but he was going to be honest with his brother and disappointed was exactly how he felt. Not just disappointed in Edgar but also disappointed in himself for letting his brother down when he needed him the most. Sig quickly referred himself back to PROMISE #1.

Sig didn't want Edgar to be focusing on the number of licks he was going to get but he needed to let the kid know there was a limit, an end in sight, so to speak. "Ok, my turn for a few questions" Sig knew some of the answers to these questions already but he wanted to get the conversation started again.

Edgar re-shifted his focus on his brother. What kind of questions would Sig ask? Some of the more obvious ones Edgar anticipated were, why are you such a screw-up and how could you be so dumb? He wasn't expecting the first question to be what it was.

"If memory serves me right, you, little brother, were the last person in the house to take a lickin' from dad. Do you remember?" Sig asked with purpose.

Edgar remembered very well. It was one of those rare times that one of them got in a lot of trouble while dad was home. "Oh, yeah, that was definitely me. That was the end of last summer when I set the shed on fire by accident because I was playing with dad's blow torch. He was beyond livid."

Sig remember this all too well himself. Sig also secretly worried about his little brother's obsession with fire and prayed he would grow out of it sooner rather than later.

Edgar went on with the memory. "After we put the fire out, which thankfully no one was hurt, dad gave me a look I will never forget. He didn't even need to say anything. I think it was the only time I was waiting for him to come to the kitchen instead of him waiting for me to get there. Mom took off, like usually. Norm was at work. I don't remember where you were."

Sig answered that question in his own mind, not wanting Edgar to ever know he was at home when this happened. I do, I was in the basement working on something when I heard you coming into the kitchen. I heard dad come in next and I heard the door of the pantry open and shut. I sat on the basement steps because it was too late for me to get away. I was trapped down there. I heard dad say a number I never thought I'd hear him say and I started to shake.

Edgar went on, "I don't even think he had to tell me to drop my pants, I think I just knew. I bent over the table and dad gave me 20 of the hardest licks I ever took."

I know, Sig said to himself, I sat on the basement steps crying and counted each one, wincing from just the sound. Sig knew this was the most any of them had ever received and it broke his heart that it was the baby of the family who received them.

Edgar, on the other hand, seemed strangely proud of this fact, like it was some kind of badge of honor. "He really let me have it. He was pissed, too, I could tell. Don't blame him though, he told me never to play with his blow torch I don't know how many times. We were lucky the roof of the house didn't catch on fire. Afterwards, I went to my room and hung out for the rest of the day," he finished with a shrug.

Sig continued asking questions he already knew the answers to. "Edgar, did dad come and talk to you about it afterwards?"

Edgar gave Sig to biggest "Are you kidding me" expression and then thought about it for a minute. "You know, come to think of it, a little while later, I heard footsteps come up to the door of my bedroom and stop, like someone was out there. Then, after a minute, I heard them walk away." Edgar got a little quiet and added, "I kinda thought maybe dad…wanted to come in but…changed his mind." Edgar looked at Sig out of the corner of his eye, wondering if his brother thought he was stupid to even think that.

Let the kid just think those were dad's footsteps, Sig said to himself. I'd be happy knowing he assumed it was dad outside his door for the remainder of his life.

Sig asked his next question, again one he already knew the answer too.

"Edgar, if dad had come in your room then, what were you hoping he would say?" Sig asked quietly.

Sig could immediately see he hit a nerve because he saw Edgar shut down right in front of him. So much for the total honesty on Edgar's part.

Edgar heard the question and wanted to answer it. Yet, it hit too close to home for him so he put up a wall and gave the ole' standby of "I dunno know." He followed it up with the traditional teenage shrug of the shoulders.

Yes, you do kid, but that's ok. I won't make you say it. I already know Sig said to himself.

Sig asked his next question, the first one he did NOT know the answer too. "Did you think 20 licks was a fair number?"

Edgar couldn't help but think this was a trick question but he just dodged the last one so he answered it honestly, "I guess, it was a pretty stupid thing to do." Like all the stupid things I just did in the last twenty four hours. Way to go, just shot myself in the foot.

Sig could see Edgar's line of thinking so he added quickly, "You asked me how many licks," Sig gestured to the paddle that Edgar was still holding. "I didn't give you a straight answer before, but I will soon. I just want you to know that it won't be more than the last time."

This answer did bring some kind of relief to Edgar. Knowing there was a maximum limit ease his mind a bit.

Edgar didn't want to hold the paddle anymore. He didn't want to think about. He also wasn't sure what to do with it sitting there in his hands. So he moved away from his brother slightly and put the paddle on the floor in between them. His brother would be free to pick it up at any time.

I'm not going to read into this, Sig thought. My brother just moved away from me and left the paddle lying on the floor between us. What the hell does that say? Don't think about. Just forget its there for awhile.

Sig wanted to move on. "You're up" meaning it was now Edgar's turn to ask questions.

Edgar had one. It was about what was bothering him the most regarding Sig's plan.

"Sig, is there ANY other way we can do this without me over your lap?" Edgar asked with a little desperation in his voice. He was sure Sig had his reasons but he didn't understand what they could be.

Sig gave a flat reply. "No." He offered no explanations.

Edgar's mind raced through old movies and TV shows where he'd seen kids were spanked over the parents' knee. The parent was always holding the kid down, arm around their waist. Maybe his brother thought he would have to restrain him to do this or something like that.

"Sig," Edgar tried to explain, "I never resisted when dad strapped me. I always knew I was getting what I deserved. You don't have to hold me down. I can take it like a man."

"Maybe that's the problem," Sig muttered to himself.

When Edgar gave him a puzzled look, Sig sighed and said, "It's how I am going to do it, that's it."

Edgar could tell from the tone of Sig's voice that no other suggestions would be taken under advisement. Edgar's shoulders slumped slightly with resignation. His big brother would always see him as a little kid for the rest of his life.

Sig watched Edgar struggle over this part of the plan but refused to change his mind. He was confident he knew what he was doing. I do know what I am doing, right? Sig tried to alleviate some of the tension. "But I promise I won't hold you down, unless I have too," he said jokingly.

Edgar gave him a half-hearted smile. He remembered that he agreed to trust his brother to do this and if this was the way he wanted too, then Edgar had to respect that. If he wants to treat me like a kid, I'll just have to show him that I'm not.

"Ok, next question. Why did you call me 'sir' in the kitchen a little while ago?" Sig really wanted to know the answer to this one.

Edgar looked over at his brother. It was an easy answer. "It was a sign of respect...It wasn't sarcastic, if that's what you think." Edgar thought about it for a moment and asked, "Was that wrong? Did you not want me too?"

"Shit, Edgar, I don't know what I want. I do know that I just want to be your brother. I'm not dad. It felt weird when you said it. Little brothers don't say that to their older brothers, it's just weird." This entire situation is weird but it's what we are left with, Sig thought to himself. "But I do want you to respect me. Actually, I need you to respect me, at least a little. I don't know how I feel about it but I guess if you want to say it, don't say it that much, ok. What I can tell you is I liked it a hell of lot better than 'Fuck You,' I know that," Sig said with conviction.

Edgar hung his head in shame with the reminder. Oh, that damn knot just won't go away. Edgar wanted to forget about it. "Next question, will you ever trust me again?" Edgar wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer but he asked the question anyway.

Sig answered honestly, "I hope so but this conversation is a very good start. My turn now."

Sig hesitated and he felt his hands start to shake. "Edgar, do you have any idea how hard it's gonna be for me to do this?" Sig turned pleading eyes to his brother, hoping that he would not see Sig as some kind of monster for the rest of his life.

Edgar understood that this was going to be as hard on his brother as it would be on him. Well, almost, anyway. Edgar was certain it would be harder on himself.

Still, he felt bad for his brother. His oldest brother was stuck being the one in charge when he should have been enjoying the last summer of his school years. Yet, Edgar was going about making life miserable for everybody. That didn't help the knot any either.

Edgar tried to make his brother smile, like Norm always did to him, "Oh, come on, Sig. Just think of all the times I broke your stuff or bugged the shit out of you or messed up your room and the million other "little brother" stunts I've pulled over the years. Now's your chance for revenge."

Sig did smile and laughed a little, "Oh, I got my revenge plenty."

Edgar smiled too, "You don't have to tell me" added with an eye roll.

Sig suddenly got serious. "Edgar, you do understand this is different? This isn't about revenge or normal stuff between brothers. I just can't let up when…" Sig couldn't even finish the thought out loud but did in his head. ...I want too or when you cry, like I always did when we played rough.

Edgar got serious too. "I know…"

"Any other questions?" Sig knew he was stalling now because his heart was starting to beat nervously. Oh God, I don't want to do this.

Edgar thought about it for a minute. He didn't want to stall but he did have one last question. "Yeah, why my room? I mean, we could have done this your way anywhere in the house. Why here?"

Thank you, Sig thought to himself, that was the question I was hoping for. He really wanted to say this because he needed Edgar to understand his motives and not think his big brother had gone completely crazy.

"Because this is where you come when you want to feel safe. Just listen, Edgar and please understand me. I respect our father very much, more so at this moment than ever. I don't want you to ever think that I don't." Sig made sure he had his little brother's full attention before continuing. "But I don't think he ever did this right. This shouldn't be done like it's a job or chore, done well but without any heart put in it. This should be done with explanations and understandings. In a safe place. It should be done with patience and comfort, somehow anyway. It should be done with love and afterwards, forgiveness, total and complete forgiveness," Sig felt a little silly saying all these mushy things to his youngest brother but they were true, it was how he felt and he promised to be honest from start to finish. He could only hope now Edgar understood.

Edgar listened intently to his brother's little speech. He had never heard his big brother talk about stuff like that before, stuff that came from his heart. And Edgar heard the magic word at the end of the speech and knew that he had heard enough. He didn't even need to give his official decision at the end about who was going to do this.

Edgar took a deep breath and picked up the paddle off the floor. He handed it to his brother, handle side to him.

To this day, Sig considered that gesture the most respectful thing he ever experienced. It also was a sign of complete and total trust. He took the offered paddle but grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him closer so that Edgar's ear was right next to Sig's face.

Sig whispered softly, his voice almost breaking, "I'll be careful, Edgar. I swear to God. I would NEVER leave...welts...or bruises...on you."

Edgar was a little overwhelmed by the emotion in Sig's voice and he pulled away slightly, taking his hand back. He looked into his big brother's blue eyes and said softly, "I know."

Edgar gave his brother one last look with very sad and sorry dark green eyes. Then he stood up, a little stiff from sitting on the floor for so long. He walked over to the chair at his desk and, with his back to his brother, took off his shoes. He started fumbling with the button on his jeans. It was difficult to get the button undone because his hands were a little shaky but he managed. He was very grateful that Sig didn't ask him about the actions and decisions he made in the last few days to earn this spanking. Edgar didn't really want to think about that stuff anyway.

Sig got up off the floor and slipped the paddle under the folded blanket at the end of the bed. No one in this room needed to see it right now anyway. He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned his back to his brother to give him as much privacy as possible. Growing up in a house together, of course they saw each other in various states of undress, but Sig wanted to give the kid as much respect and privacy as he could.

As he sat patiently, he looked down and noticed that his hands were trembling. He started wringing his hands in front of him when he noticed that he was still wearing his high school class ring on the ring finger of his right hand. Fucking idiot, didn't think of that, did ya? As quickly as he could, he slipped the ring off, leaned over and placed it on the nightstand by Edgar's bed. As he took it off, he felt like he was about to get into a fight. He was like one of those guys in the old movies that would take off their jewelry and hand it to a friend before a fistfight. The intent was so that nothing would get broken and they wouldn't do more damage than they wanted. Maybe I am getting into a fight, not a fistfight, but some kind of struggle. Sig sat back down and waited, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

After taking off his jeans and folding them over the chair, Edgar found some kind of courage somewhere deep down and walked over to where his brother was sitting. Sig saw the feet appear on the floor at the right side of his knee. Sig twisted a little so that when Edgar laid down, he could rest his chest, head and arms on the bed. Sig waited, unable to look up at his brother's face for fear that his heart would disinegrate.

Edgar stood there in his boxers, not really sure what to do, feeling kind of stupid. Even little kids know how to do this.

Sig finally looked up at him but continued to wait. Maybe Edgar is waiting for some kind of signal from me.

"You want me to talk you through this?" Sig ask him gently.

Edgar nodded up and down gratefully.

Sig thought of the best analogy he could come up for this. "Ok," he said, "it's just like sliding into second base, except the landing is much softer and a lot less dirty."

Edgar looked up at the ceiling and let out a huge laugh. "Shit, Sig" he said, "you make it sound so easy."

Sig smiled but sympathized with him, "I know its not."

Edgar stood there for another minute or so, struggling with this part of the punishment. For whatever reason, this was pretty hard to do. There was something about the close physical contact during a time like this that made him feel like mush inside and he didn't want to appear weak in front of his brother. He also knew that he would have to completely trust his brother from this point forward because, if Sig wanted, he could totally let him fall. Edgar quietly told his oldest brother, "I'm not trying to be defiant," not wanting Sig to think he was stalling on purpose.

"I know, kid, just take your time. I'm sticking with you the whole way" Sig said softly.

Edgar looked straight into his brother's blue eyes and knew he meant what he said. For the first time in a long, long time, Edgar didn't feel alone.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but Edgar closed his eyes and bent over his brother's lap and laid down. He rested his head on the comforter of his bed, both arms at either side of his head, elbows bent and he buried his turned face into the nook created by this right arm. He braced himself and waited.

Sig wanted to die. He felt his brother tense up, anticipating the punishment to start and his heart already started to break. It couldn't start like this, he knew it. Just couldn't.

Edgar was waiting for his punishment to begin so he was shocked when Sig asked in a calm voice, "Do you remember that game mom use to play with us when we had to wait around in line at the grocery store? You know the one where she would write words on our backs with her finger and then we would do the same to next one of us in the line. Whichever one of us was in the front had to relay the message back to mom, sort of like 'whisper down the lane' but without talking to each other. You remember what I'm talking about?"

Edgar lifted his head up and rested his chin on top of his forearm. "Yeah, I remember. I was always after Norm and it was so freaking hard because his handwriting sucks. It use to take him like three tries to get the message out. She use to come up with some creative ways to keep us from killing each other out of boredom."

Sig paused for a minute and then put the flat of his palm on Edgar's back. The gentle touch was not the first thing Edgar expected and he closed his eyes. Looking back now, Edgar remembered that was the first touch that almost broke him. Sig used his finger and drew a big R on Edgar's back. He waited. Edgar got the hint. "R" he said suspiciously. Sig then drew a big "U" on his back. "U" Edgar said back. Sig drew the "O" and "K" quickly followed by a question mark (mom always made them punctuate their messages properly). Edgar replied "OK?" He assumed Sig was asking him if he was comfortable. He guess he was, it wasn't totally a bad position, if it wasn't for what was coming.

"Yes, I'm ok" Edgar responded to the written question.

Sig made a motion on his back like he was erasing a chalkboard. This meant a new message was coming. Sig started writing each word out slowly, one at a time. Edgar repeated the words out loud so Sig knew he got the right word. The message wasn't done until there was a punctuation mark at the end.

"Norm's-luck?" Edgar tried to get the second word. No, wrong word, Sig traced a big X on Edgar's back and wrote again. "Truck, Oh, ok, Norm's-truck-is-a-piece-of -shit." Edgar repeated and started laughing, "Sig, don't tell him that, you'll hurt his feelings. He loves that truck"

Sig laughed too, Edgar could feel his belly moving next to the side of his ribs. Sig made the erasing motion again and started over. Edgar repeated the words that were traced on his back out loud, "Do-you-want-to-be-a-captain-someday-like-dad?" Good question, Edgar thought and then replied, "I don't know, I don't think so."

New message. "Are-you-afraid?"

Edgar didn't understand that one. "Of being captain, you mean?"

Sig wrote the word "No" on Edgar's back. He added to his written message. "Of-this?"

Edgar wanted to follow his big brother's lead about being honest so he replied honestly, "A little...yes."

Sig wrote the next two words "Of-me?"

Edgar replied simply, "No...never."

Erased and new message. "I-am-afraid."

Edgar asked, "Of what?"

New message. "You-will-hate-me."

Edgar replied quietly, "Sig, I could never, ever hate you."

Erased back. A long wait for the next message.

Finally, "I- (Sig spelled the next word out very slowly) L…O…V…E and then added the U at the end. He punctuated the message by placing his left hand on the small of Edgar's back gently and cinching his t-shirt between his fingers, letting him know how much he meant it.

Edgar stopped repeating the words after "I."

That would have been the second touch that almost broke him because he started to feel the tears forming in his eyes. Don't you fucking do that to me, Sig, do not fucking make me do that, not now when I need to be so strong.

Edgar swallowed the tears and put up such a wall around himself that Sig actually felt it go up. Damn it, kid, why are you going to make this harder than it has to be? Doesn't matter, go ahead kid, put up the good fight like the stubborn Norwegian that you are. Best of luck to you. You forget that I can be just as stubborn as you. Love to let you win but this is a fight I cannot lose. Keep telling yourself that your family doesn't love you, let's see how long it takes for you to figure it out how wrong you are. .

Sig closed his eyes and lifted his right hand slightly for the first swat.

Third conversation only half-over. Battle begun.