Grant
"I bet you want to kill me,"
Tony
“Yea,
bro it’s me, how are you?” Thick black hair and deep sideburns framed Tony’s
red face. His face was chubby due to the tight button down shirt that was
buttoned to the very top. Tony looked
larger, fuller than he had in the last picture Grant had seen from a Cretan
newspaper. He was shorter than Grant but
not a small man. His build also made the
room seem tiny but it was how he stood that made him seem like a child. He was moving back and forth slowly. And his stance was open and angled. One foot
turned towards the slit in the blue curtains as if to run at the slightest noise.
Grant
had thought about things that he would say to Tony if he saw him again but he
had never expected to be in bed when saying it.
His imagination had placed an epic conclusion to their brotherly bond on
top of a building during a storm. He had
wrestled his brother down and said, “I should kill you for what you’ve done to
me!” Rain drops would be hitting his face and the piece of glass he held in his
hand poised to stabbed his brother with.
Then he would say, “But you’re not even worth it.” He once killed his brother in his dream while
in prison. He had woken up sweating and
was sad even though he started to realize it hadn’t happened. Ironically, now, in the infirmary, hand
cuffed to the bed, Seamus Grant was speechless.
“I
bet you want to kill me,” Tony said.
Grant looked away trying to hide the time he murdered Tony in his
dreams. Maybe dreams stay hidden if they don’t look in your eyes.
All
Grant could say was, “Shut up. I have no brother.” Tony nodded without interrupting the swaying
of his body as if absorbing each curse with every sway.
Timidly
Tony said, “You don’t look well, but I’ve seen you worse.” He smirked and looked at Grant. When Grant said nothing he continued grimly, “When
you were in Crete I visited you once and you looked so bad, Seamus.”
“No!
No one visited. No one was allowed in to see me! I was alone. Don’t lie,” Grant snapped and
looked at Tony with the same fiery vengeance and anger he had felt in that
dream. Grant glared at him as if waiting
for him to burst into flames. When his
brother remained standing there Grant began feeling guilty again. “So I’m not on Crete anymore. Where am I? And what about these?” He rattled
the hand cuffs around his wrists.
Tony
looked around outside of the blue curtain.
Apparently the coast was clear; he spoke quieter but did not get closer
when he whispered, “there are things, so many things going on out there. You’re
just a small part and I was too. But I need
you to forgive me. I’m sorry. And I
forgive you.”
Grant
returned to a cold bitterness that was like a thick icy wall 700 feet high. “I
have no brother.”
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| © Chrisharvey | Dreamstime Stock Photos |
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