His brother was standing off by the water, at the lake, his
back to the sun. He stared at him for a while from the porch, not knowing if he
should join, or interrupt. It occurred to him that he had not taken much time
to see him, to look at him. The wind pushed in off the water, shook the heavy
leaves that hung like fragile ornaments from the trees. His casually blonde
hair it too gently messed. He was looking out at something over the water.
He tried to guess at whatever he was so intent upon, but could see nothing except the shimmer of the retreating sun, and the onset dark of the southern night. He walked through the screen porch, into the choir of the shaking leaves the churning crickets and the door closed quickly behind him in a jarring crash. His brother turned and his eyes were flat and dark. By the time he reached him his brother had turned back to the water.
They stood there like that for some time, shoulder by shoulder looking out at the water that so far as he could tell, had no reason to be looked at.
‘She left.’ His brother said. He had known, or suspected, no known in that way you can know something about someone just by looking at them. He grunted.
‘I’m sorry.’ He said some time later, which seemed not enough to him, but he could not really decide on what else he could say. His brother shrugged. He tried again to see what on the water so held his brother’s attention. There was nothing there by familiar afternoon light so far as he could tell.
‘Do you remember when we were kids? There was this tree that had been split by lightning.’ His brother began unprompted.
‘Yeah’
‘That tree must have been there for years, it was grey and dead where it split, and it had fallen into three parts. You guys used to climb and build. Every hour for every day in those summers. They seemed to last so much longer.’ He grunted again in agreement. ‘One of the sides that fell, was really overgrown, too much to build on. And while you two were building and talking. I would climb through the branches to the very end of that part of the tree. You guys couldn’t do it, you were too big. But I would climb out on to this same long branch. Couldn’t have been more than twenty feet off the ground but man it seemed like I was so high. The sun would go down, just like it is now, and the wind would pick up. And that branch would sway, I would be on it, and I would sway too, and though it always felt like the branch would break, I knew it wouldn’t. I didn’t ever worry I would fall, I would just sway up there.’
‘I never knew you did that.’
His brother shrugged again. ‘I liked the way it felt.’
He turned to look at his brother. ‘What are you looking at out there?’
His brother, his voice carrying his confusion about the question, responded ‘Nothing.’ And after doing so, put his hand on his shoulder, held for a moment and then walked off to the porch that was now empty. He watched him go.
He turned back to the water, to look at it; it was a field of endless ripples, set upon by his brother’s wind. He thought of all the minuscule organism being pushed and throw around, moved by forces beyond their comprehension. How did they endure it? Did they do it gracefully or ignorantly? And he wondered if in the end if it mattered at all.
He tried to guess at whatever he was so intent upon, but could see nothing except the shimmer of the retreating sun, and the onset dark of the southern night. He walked through the screen porch, into the choir of the shaking leaves the churning crickets and the door closed quickly behind him in a jarring crash. His brother turned and his eyes were flat and dark. By the time he reached him his brother had turned back to the water.
They stood there like that for some time, shoulder by shoulder looking out at the water that so far as he could tell, had no reason to be looked at.
‘She left.’ His brother said. He had known, or suspected, no known in that way you can know something about someone just by looking at them. He grunted.
‘I’m sorry.’ He said some time later, which seemed not enough to him, but he could not really decide on what else he could say. His brother shrugged. He tried again to see what on the water so held his brother’s attention. There was nothing there by familiar afternoon light so far as he could tell.
‘Do you remember when we were kids? There was this tree that had been split by lightning.’ His brother began unprompted.
‘Yeah’
‘That tree must have been there for years, it was grey and dead where it split, and it had fallen into three parts. You guys used to climb and build. Every hour for every day in those summers. They seemed to last so much longer.’ He grunted again in agreement. ‘One of the sides that fell, was really overgrown, too much to build on. And while you two were building and talking. I would climb through the branches to the very end of that part of the tree. You guys couldn’t do it, you were too big. But I would climb out on to this same long branch. Couldn’t have been more than twenty feet off the ground but man it seemed like I was so high. The sun would go down, just like it is now, and the wind would pick up. And that branch would sway, I would be on it, and I would sway too, and though it always felt like the branch would break, I knew it wouldn’t. I didn’t ever worry I would fall, I would just sway up there.’
‘I never knew you did that.’
His brother shrugged again. ‘I liked the way it felt.’
He turned to look at his brother. ‘What are you looking at out there?’
His brother, his voice carrying his confusion about the question, responded ‘Nothing.’ And after doing so, put his hand on his shoulder, held for a moment and then walked off to the porch that was now empty. He watched him go.
He turned back to the water, to look at it; it was a field of endless ripples, set upon by his brother’s wind. He thought of all the minuscule organism being pushed and throw around, moved by forces beyond their comprehension. How did they endure it? Did they do it gracefully or ignorantly? And he wondered if in the end if it mattered at all.
