Pier 35

He sat there. Just sat there. He had no book, no magazine, or newspaper. No phone, no computer. Just himself and the rising sun and a gentle ocean breeze that rushed through the trees. 

I knew he was waiting for me. Seeing him sit there caused a swell of emotions in me. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to leave. How could I talk to him now? After everything that had happened before? 

I thought back to the day we promised each other we would meet here. It was raining, and, for some reason, we thought it was the best weather to have a battle. We brought no umbrella, no rain boots, and no hats. We simply let the rain wash over our faces and drip down our shirts. The only thing in our hands were lightsabers. The clouds caused the day to go dark and made the lightsabers cast our faces in an eerie glow. 

Our friend came along. He was carrying a ginormous camera on his shoulder. Over both his head and the camera was a large blue tarp to keep the two of them dry. He was going through film school at the time. Our battle was part of an assignment he had to do. He was assigned to make an intense scene, whether that be an action scene, discovery scene, or romantic scene. The minute we heard him say that, my brother and I looked at each other and grinned. It was the day we had been waiting for. 

Ever since we were young my father practically brainwashed us to worship Star Wars. When my brother was born my mother tried to protest. She wasn’t nearly as big a fan of Star Wars as my father, having only seen a few of the movies, and was completely against having a Star Wars theme for the nursery. That is until I was born three years later. My father had finally convinced her to love Star Wars and it became a defining trait for my family. 

My room had been Star Wars themed since I was born all the way until I left the house to go to college. Even then, I had posters and of course my Death Star globe that floated above its stand and glowed during the night. 

Throughout my childhood, my brother and I fought with toy swords and those lightsabers that folded into the handle. It wasn’t until we got into junior high that my dad finally bought us lightsabers we could do damage with. They had all these amazing settings that would change the color and sound based off of what lightsaber we wanted it to be. 

Once we got the lightsabers, we stopped fighting each other and started to teach ourselves how to wield them, like real Jedi masters. We studied Star Wars movies and shows to watch how they used their weapons and watched every tutorial we could find on YouTube. After seeing how determined we were, my father found us some sword wielding lessons in downtown Manhattan. 

It changed our lives. We both instantly fell in love with it and spent much of our free time practicing. I got so into it, I entered fencing competitions and started martial arts classes with the money I won. When I turned sixteen my brother took me into his room dressed in Jedi robes he had gotten when we went to Disney. He draped my own robes across my shoulders and started a long speech on how great I had been as a Padawan, a Jedi in training. My heart lifted as he held out golden scissors I knew he had bought for this very occasion. With a powerful voice he took the scissors and said, “Brother, you are now, officially, a Jedi Master,” and cut off my braid signifying I was a Padawan. I watched the braid fall to the ground and felt myself start to tear up. I had the braid since I was seven and felt a little sad I wouldn’t have it anymore. Seeing the tears in my eyes my brother lifted me up and bundled me in a hug.

“Come on. You're not sad to get rid of that stupid braid are you? You're a Jedi master now! Now we can battle,” he said with an evil grin. I couldn’t help myself and laughed. 

So seeing as our good friend needed an intense scene, we jumped on the opportunity to use our trained skills. 

The day after was a rainy day and our friend thought it would be perfect. 

So he brought us to Pier 35. A quaint little pier in lower Manhattan across the bay from Brooklyn. It had giant swinging benches, exercise equipment, and plenty of trees and plants, plus a great view of the Manhattan bridge. 

The storm caused the ocean to swell and waves to crash against the pier. The wind was blowing the trees and not one person could be seen. Of course not! I was sure we were going to catch a cold or pneumonia since the only protection from the rain was our Jedi robes, and we were practically stupid to be out there. But we didn’t care one bit. This was, surly, going to be the coolest thing we had ever done. 

And it was. After our friend finished editing our video we couldn’t believe it. It was the coolest video we had ever seen. Of course it might have been due to the fact we were in it and looked like real Jedi, but we both loved it. 

After seeing the video we encouraged our friend to enter into a film festival. He readily agreed and found a local one in uptown New York. He won $1,000 and gave us both $200 for helping him. We celebrated at Pier 35, where it all took place. We invited friends and family to come and had plenty of good food and music. 

At the party my brother, our friend, and I stepped aside to enjoy the video one more time. After we had watched it my brother had a small grin on his face.

“What if we meet back here in fifteen years and remake the video? It would be cool to all meet up again.” he said. 

Our friend and I readily agreed and put the date in our calendars. We all agreed to meet up at five o’clock. My brother and I were to bring our lightsabers and our friend to bring his camera. 

Two years later our friend died. Both of us attended his funeral. It was the last time we saw each other and had all been together. My brother then moved far away, married some California girl that I hated, and never spoke to me again. I didn’t go to his wedding.

I stayed in New York. I started my own martial arts studio and gave free lessons to kids who needed to get off the streets. Everyday, I avoided Pier 35 until the anniversary date. No matter if it was raining, snowing, hailing, or sunny, I closed the studio and spent the day waiting on one of the swinging benches or walking through the small gardens they had. I felt especially sad on the days it rained, because it brought all the emotions of the video and losing my friend and my brother. 

Five years after our friend died, our father passed away. My brother didn’t come to the funeral and I stood alone consoling my mom. My father always wanted Star Wars theme music to play at his funeral, so we hired an orchestra to play it while everyone was giving their speeches. In his coffin I laid my Padawan braid. I had kept it tucked away in a box in my closet and decided it would be best to have it lie with my dad. 

Fast forward eight years and there we were, my brother sitting on a swinging bench on Pier 35 and me, quietly standing behind him. I hadn’t seen him for thirteen years. He never visited. And now he was waiting for me. In the one place that would remind him of both our friend and our dad. 

I sighed and started to walk away. My shoe must have scuffed the stone walkway because suddenly I heard my brother stand. 

“Luke?”

“Hey,” I said. It was the first thing that came to mind.

“You finally came,” he said to me.

“You’re one to talk,” I snapped back. Sadness came over his features.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his head down.

“You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say after completely leaving me for thirteen years?” my voice started to raise in volume and I willed myself to calm down. 

“I was in the wrong,” he said, finally looking me in the eyes. 

I felt sad and angry and lost. I didn’t know what to do.

Then my brother reached behind his jacket and pulled out a lightsaber. He stood in a dueling stance ready to fight. How did he always know how to make me feel better? I pulled out my own saber and felt my anger come back. My brother was an idiot to think that a battle could mend our bond. 

I launched at him with full force. Every act of offense my brother countered with amazing defense. It was a one sided battle. With every strike I took forward, my brother defended back. Finally I stopped and just looked at him.

He stood there breathing hard with tears in his eyes. 

“My wife cheated on me,” he said suddenly. “I divorced her. I hated living in California and I work as the manager for a plumbing business. I never got to be a film director because my wife was also stealing money from me, money I had saved for college. I wasn’t able to come to dad’s funeral because she stole my plane ticket to see the man she cheated with,” he said as tears ran down his scruffy cheeks. 

Suddenly I could see how tired he looked. Black bags hung under his eyes and it looked like he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. His hair was long and messy and his clothes looked dirty. The thought occurred to me that he might have slept on that bench.

I let him continue, “You may be three years younger than me, Brother, but you are smarter and more mature than me by many years. You knew that my wife was bad news. You knew I would hate California. You knew I should have gone to a different college. Look at you now. You have your own martial arts studio, you help get kids off the streets. You own your house and are dating a very beautiful girl. You have your life together even after you lost your best friend, your dad and… and your brother. That is why I am sorry. I’m the older one and should have had my life together. Should have been a better example,” he said. As he finished his shoulders started to shake and he dropped his lightsaber. 

I dropped my own saber and ran to him. I swept him in my arms and held him. For almost my whole life he had been my anchor. He protected me from people who bullied me about my Padawan braid, he helped me find my love of martial arts and swordsmanship, and he helped me become a better man. 

“I forgive you,” I choked out, barely a whisper. 

I felt tears run down my own cheeks as we held each other. My anger was gone. I had my brother back. This time I knew, I wouldn’t lose my anchor, my best friend, my Jedi Master.