One day, when they were both in Frank's room, playing a video game, Joey suddenly scowled and set his controller down. "I wish I wasn't adopted. I...I mean...you're my brother. But I want to be real family. Not just adopted."
Frank hit the "start" button on the controller to pause the game, and looked at Joey. To Frank's astonishment, the little boy seemed about to cry. "Joey...are those jerks at school saying that stupid stuff again?"
Joey shrugged. "No. Well yeah, but I know they're just dummies. Mostly. I dunno." He shrugged. "I mean if we were real brothers, you know from the same family, then no one could say you're not really brother'! That makes me mad!"
Sighing, Frank nodded his head. "I know, it makes me mad too. Just 'cuz they're too dumb to know. You mean blood brothers. You wish we were blood brothers, that means we'd have some of the same blood because we get our blood from our moms."
"Yeah."
There was silence for a few moments, until Frank cocked his head. "I think there's a way."
Joey blinked, his scowl chased away with a look of incredulity. "There is?"
"Well...yeah, but it might hurt. Hold on a sec...I'll be right back, I gotta look something up."
Frank ran downstairs to make sure his mother was good and busy with supper, and that Fenton was not back yet from his investigations. He sneaked into his study and turned on the computer, as he didn't think that his parents would be fantastically thrilled with what he was about to suggest to Joey.
To Frank's frustration, the computer required a password to log in. Annoyed, Frank called it a name, clicked "Cancel", and shut the computer down. He wished he learned how to deal with that kinda thing in school!
Instead, Frank had to go into the basement and scour the bookshelves, until he found what he was looking for. It was a large book on several different Native American ceremonies.
He brought the thick book back up to his room, where his brother was lounging around on Frank's bed. But he sat up and looked interested at what Frank had brought into the room. "What's that?"
"A book," said Frank with the ghost of a smile.
"I know that, but what kind of book?"
Frank could have taken the teasing a bit further, but chose not to. He sat on the floor and opened the book, paging through it until he found what he sought. "Here it is! Making of Relatives Ceremony."
Looking very interested, Joe joined Frank on the floor and peered at the pages. He did not read nearly as well as Frank yet, and so Frank told him what the ceremony was about. "A lot of Indians had a ceremony they did if they met someone that they loved as much as a brother. Or sister, or whatever. And they did this ceremony, it's kinda like they joined spirits. It says... Well, most of them say that the brothers who get made with it have to be willing to die for the other. And they have to care about the other until they do die. And it's not a ceremony that you're supposed to do just without thinking, 'cuz it's really important."
At this, the two boys looked at each other and grinned. They both knew that their decision had already been made.
"How do we do it?" said Joe.
"Well...to be blood brothers... I don't see it here, but I heard of it. You're supposed to make a little cut like on your hand, and the other person does the same, and you hold hands, so that the blood kinda mixes."
Joey winced, but that was all the reaction he showed to the idea of pain. "I could do that," he said finally. "What else do you have to do?"
"Well there's different ones. But it's all weird symbol stuff. You know, when they do something that's supposed to mean something else?"
Joey wrinkled his nose. "Let's not do any symbols."
"Hmm. Okay. Well..." Frank turned a page, and scanned the page, finally pointing at a verse of a prayer in a language that he didn't even recognize. "Here! It says that this is what Lakota Indians say so that the spirits will know that we're doing the ceremony, and they make the two people brothers for real."
Joey looked doubtful. "I dunno if I could read that."
"It's okay. I think I can sound it out. And you can say each part after me! The spirit's know what we mean. I think they're really smart."
This seemed to reassure Joey, and he nodded. "Okay! Let's do it."
Frank nodded and rummaged in his desk drawer, finally pulling out a pocketknife he had been carrying to Scout meetings. "We can use this," he said, opening it and looked at the blade inside. "You think we should clean it first? Use peroxide?"
"I dunno. Did the Indians do it?"
"I don't think so. But...but they didn't have the germs we have, back then. I better clean it."
"I'll come help!"
And so the blade was cleaned as thoroughly as Frank could, using first soap and water, and then peroxide to kill the "modern" germs. And after a quick check to make sure Laura was still busy with supper, the two boys retreated to Frank's room.
At first, the boys only looked at the knife, expressions of nervousness on both faces. It was easier to say you wanted to go through such a thing until you were confronted with actually doing it. Joey seemed very upset. "I-I don't think I can do this...but I wanna!"
"I know," said Frank. "Me too. Hey! Let's switch then. I'll make the cut on your hand, and you make it on mine. Then we can just close our eyes 'til it's over...would that be okay?" And not only would it make it easier, it would also show their trust in each other.
Joey did not answer aloud, he only closed his eyes tight and held out his left hand.
Smiling a bit at this show of trust, Frank's hands shook a little bit as put the knife to Joey's hand. But he kept telling himself it was for a good reason. It'd show that they really were brothers. After a moment, he warned Joey, and made a quick, small slice on the outer part of the palm. Joey gasped and tensed up, but didn't jerk his hand away.
"Okay, it's done."
Looking surprised, Joey opened his eyes. "It is? Wow, that hardly hurt at all! Okay...now...now your turn." Frank handed the knife over, and Joey bit his lip. "What if I hurt you though? Or...or what if I slip and make the cut too big?"
Frank considered this for a moment, and then shook his head. "Nahhh. You won't. You'll be okay." And as Joey had trusted him, Frank closed his eyes and held out his hand.
Joey did made cut just fine, and the boys clasped hands, making sure the blood touched. "Okay," said Frank. "Now the words." And he painstakingly sounded each word out, stopping every once in a while to let Joey repeat them.
And when they finished, they looked at each other, and at their hands, still clasped. And they knew it had worked. Not just because of the blood, or the words, but because they wanted it.
Frank and Joe had the eyes and attention of everyone in that booth for duration of their story. Liz Webling, Biff Hooper, Tony Prito, Callie Shaw...even Chet and Iola, who had known the boys since they moved to Bayport. They all had given the brothers their undivided attention.
"Mom and Dad never found out we did that," said Joe. "But they could tell it had changed a little. We really were brothers then."
"And that was the start of our being so close," Frank added. They had told the story back and forth, one easily taking it up when the other paused. "The beginning of our trust."
Chet shook his head slowly, his tone one of mild amazement. "I remember that! When you fell in the stream! And I kinda remember when you guys moved in. And I never knew you were adopted!"
Joe grinned, and shrugged. "You thought I was just lucky, that I didn't look like Frank?"
The spell that had been woven by the tale was broken into friendly laughter. Even Frank had laughed, though he made sure to smack his brother first. Joe pretended to be mortally wounded until Iola told him to stop being a ham.
"I dunno if I'd've had the guts to cut my hand, even a little one, when I was that young," said Biff, who had met the brothers about a month after the ceremony. "That's pretty cool."
"Actually, a caseworker from Social Services came and talked to us after that incident," said Frank. "You know, Joe having gotten hospitalized not a year after being adopted. They conducted an investigation to make sure that Joe was being well looked after. Mom and Dad said that other parents had let their kids wander the woods, that the woods were usually quite safe."
Joe snorted. "Yeah, they might as well have not wasted their time. But you know, they get all paranoid. Luckily, they decided there was no neglect issues."
"I know Mom and Dad felt horrible about the whole thing," added Frank.
Callie rolled her eyes. "At least they didn't try and make it look like your parents were unfit like some seem to do."
Frank nodded. "Yes, there is that." If he had lost his brother to them, after fighting so hard to save him, he wasn't sure what he would have done.
The pizza on the table had been long since devoured, and the soda glasses empty. Tony stood and stretched. He had long lost the Italian accent he had in his early youth, but his swarthy, handsome features left no doubt of his Italian blood. "I gotta head out, I'll be late for dinner, if I'm not already. Thanks for the story, guys. It was really interesting."
"Yeah, us too," said Iola. "Not that my brother needs any more to eat."
Chet snorted, but didn't deny it.
"Goodbyes" and "see-you-laters" were exchanged as the members of the gang all scattered to their respective vehicles to head for home.
Left alone in the near-empty mall, Frank looked at his younger brother, who was now an inch taller than him. (When puberty hit and this growth spurt occurred, it was a while before Joey would let his brother forget!) "So, what do you think? Think it was a good idea that we told them?"
Joe, looking unusually serious, nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it was. So they know that we really are blood brothers."
Frank smiled, touched by the sincerity in Joe's voice. "Yeah," he said. "By choice. You don't get a much stronger bond than the ones you choose. It's a shame the people who say 'you're only adopted' don't realize that."
"Yeah, well, what do they know?" Joe crumbled up his napkin and stood up, a smile lighting his face. "C'mon, shorty, let's get home."
"Shorty?" Frank pretended indignation, as Joe darted away from him. "Wait till I get my hands on you, little brother!"
FIN