Realize that this story comes before my Fast and The Furious one (I blame
all of you for incessantly reviewing-enablers). But wait- keep reviewing,
just go read that one too, just because you all should love me so. It
shouldn't be beyond the capacities of man to love. Sadly, what should be
doesn't always come true.
"Dream Sequence"
Jaime remembered having a brother. Sitting at the sticky table with Mom and Kyle. There was an empty seat at the table, a presence that sat there that didn't eat, didn't partake in the strained conversation or the over salted food. Mom motioned for them the out the food back into the greasy bags. "We'll eat in the car."
They sat in the car, Kyle in shot gun and Jaime actually getting the whole backseat to himself. When they stopped at a red light, Mom shook silently, tears almost dripping on the vinyl. Kyle patted her back awkwardly while Jaime tried to think of something supremely comforting and witty, hopeful and everything he wasn't at the moment, to say through a mouth of fries. "It'll be ok," Kyle had said. It wouldn't be- he followed Daddy and left 3 days later, his pillow bearing a note that said, "I'm sorry". He left Jaime to be the strong one.
Jaime hadn't wanted to be the secret holder. Secrets burned more than Tabasco Sauce; hurt more than seeing another bruise on Kyle. Secrets were hiding the postcards, ignoring the teachers, sneaking out the window, stealing the money to send out- a new wave care package.
Jaime remembered wanting to forget, trying to bleed veins free of tainted blood that passed through the sons.
"Dream Sequence"
Jaime remembered having a brother. Sitting at the sticky table with Mom and Kyle. There was an empty seat at the table, a presence that sat there that didn't eat, didn't partake in the strained conversation or the over salted food. Mom motioned for them the out the food back into the greasy bags. "We'll eat in the car."
They sat in the car, Kyle in shot gun and Jaime actually getting the whole backseat to himself. When they stopped at a red light, Mom shook silently, tears almost dripping on the vinyl. Kyle patted her back awkwardly while Jaime tried to think of something supremely comforting and witty, hopeful and everything he wasn't at the moment, to say through a mouth of fries. "It'll be ok," Kyle had said. It wouldn't be- he followed Daddy and left 3 days later, his pillow bearing a note that said, "I'm sorry". He left Jaime to be the strong one.
Jaime hadn't wanted to be the secret holder. Secrets burned more than Tabasco Sauce; hurt more than seeing another bruise on Kyle. Secrets were hiding the postcards, ignoring the teachers, sneaking out the window, stealing the money to send out- a new wave care package.
Jaime remembered wanting to forget, trying to bleed veins free of tainted blood that passed through the sons.