The Worst Summer
Chapter 9: Contemplating Death
You know, I really wish we got close this way before. The only times he ever hugged me was when mom or dad told him to, or when I was just a baby. This time was different. It felt like he really meant it. I'll never forget it. Ever…
I wanted to give him something more as he wrapped his arms around me. I felt like dragging mom out of the house again so I could pick up a computer game for him, or something. But I held it in. After all, wasn't it enough that I gave him a book, and a baseball game? He actually got to get out of the house.
We sat down on his bed beside each other. I was quiet. I really didn't know what to say. But he seemed full of words, and he looked as if he found it difficult to convey them to me. I coughed. That one cough seemed to wake him up. He looked over at me, and opened his mouth to speak. I interrupted, "It's fine. I don't regret it."
"No, I mean, well- yeah," he said tentatively. "I mean… thanks. Really. Thank you, Mark. You didn't have to."
"I just wanted to give you some time out of the house, and I know how much you hate baseball, so"-
Randy laughed. At that moment, as he laughed, he clutched his sides with one hand, and with the other, he kept his hand on his beating heart. I looked over. He fell silent. Randy took deep breaths. It made me worried. Would he even live to see the game? Or was he gonna die at that moment, on that spot, on his own bed? I felt like I wanted to have a heart attack myself. What could I do?
Randy coughed a bit, and heaved a great sigh. He looked over at me, a little weakly. He nodded once, and said, "I'm fine. Just a bit- down. Too much excitement, I guess."
"I can't even give you a gift?"
"I don't think it'd kill me," Randy said, laying back against his pillow. "Just sets me going a bit. Nothing too bad. The doctors said no negativity, remember?"
I nodded once to show I remembered, and said, "So, I didn't just kill you?"
Randy laughed, "No, you didn't. I'm fine, Mark."
"I hope so," I said quietly. I couldn't stand another health scare too soon. I wanted to wait fifty or sixty years, when things like this are supposed to happen.
I guess Randy caught the shocked look on my face, because he pulled himself up, and sat beside me again. He wasted no time. He asked me, "Mark, why are you helping me?"
Why was he asking that? It was dangerous waters. Was he trying to get himself killed? Couldn't he ask me later, like when he was better? And I voiced that question.
"I'm not concerned for myself right now, I just"-
"I'm concerned," I interrupted. "I don't wanna talk about it right now."
"I'm not gonna die, I'm the one asking, and prepared for any answer," Randy vowed. "You can even say you hate me, and I'll be fine."
"I'm helping because I love you," I blurted out, half expecting him to fall with another heart attack. He didn't. He just stared at me.
"When did you love me?"
"Always," I answered. "And I know you loved me back. You just gave in to peer pressure from Brad."
Randy smiled a tiny bit. Yeah. I knew I was right. I smiled back at him. He nodded, "If I died, how'd you feel?"
"I'd probably kill myself," I answered quietly. "I- can't watch it. Not when I'm trying so hard to help you. I don't wanna fail. I'd rather fail on a hundred tests than fail with you right now. You have to live. You just can't die. You can't. And you- you wouldn't, would you? You wouldn't die, if you had the choice, would you?"
He shook his head immediately, "No, of course not. I don't wanna die, Mark." I could tell though. My answer, 'I'd probably kill myself' was not what he wanted to hear. I think he expected me to be ok about it. But how would I? At least it proved one thing to him. I was his brother, little or not, and I'd help him no matter what. Even if it cost me my own life.
A/N: I wonder how many people would risk their lives for their bigger brother. Quite a bit. Or maybe we're all teenagers, and we hate our siblings with a passion.
