No More Chances

It was over. He didn’t want it to be but it had to happen. He will always have a brother. Just one he will never see again. He gave his brother so many chances to change. Each time he would believe him when he said how and when he would commit to changing and the disappointment would hit like a punch to the gut when that change never came. Now, a brother he loved so dearly, has to go. 

What will happen to him? Where will he go? These are questions that ran through his mind every time he thought about cutting him off. The answer to those questions terrified him. It was as if he was reading a horror book and could not turn the page to see what was underneath the bed.   

It is time. He clutches a bag as tight as he can as he walks into his brothers room. Instantly he is hit with the scent of his brother as if he is in the room with him. The scent is partially that cologne he bought him for Christmas. His brother loved that cologne so much that he bought it for him every year after that. It was something that could bond over. Something they had in common. Now a smell that would always bring a smile to his face and warmth to his heart, brings nothing but dread, sorrow, water in his eyes, and a frog in the back of his throat. 

He takes a moment to gather himself. He remembers what just transpired and why he is doing this. He is doing this out of hate. He is doing this out of love. So he takes a deep breath, unzips the bag, and continues on with what he has to do. He starts with the drawers. His brother is going to need underwear and socks wherever he goes, so might as well throw a few pairs of each in there for him. He doesn’t want him going commando when he is walking around in public. No one wants to see that. He moves onto the next drawer where he finds his brother’s pants stacked in piles and not neatly folded like he tried to teach him so many times.

That is something that he had to teach him. He and his brother lost his mother when they were young. Their father was never around so they were raised by their aunt and uncle who were really nice but way too old to raise young kids. So he took it upon himself to sacrifice and try to make sure that his brother had the best possible childhood any kid in his situation could have. One of the first things he taught his brother was how to properly fold his clothes and put them away neatly. It is something his mother taught him that he wanted to pass on to his brother. They would practice it every Sunday night because that is when their aunt would do the wash. He would never get it on the first try, not the second either, and usually not the third too. Lay it out on the bed, one leg over the other, and then a simple fold down the middle. To try and get him to learn quicker, he would challenge his brother to a folding off and he would easily win every time. His brother would get so frustrated that he would throw tantrums so loud the neighbors outside could probably hear him. Now it seems so easy but thinking about how much his brother would struggle brought a smile to his face. Instantly that smile went away when he snapped back to reality. He folds each of his brother’s pants one by one. He lays each pair out on the bed, puts one leg over the other, and folds down the middle. That smile is why it hurts so much that he has to cut ties with his younger brother.

He moves onto the shirts. For some reason these are properly folded and put away just like he taught him. He scoops them out of the drawer, one by one so he does not ruin his brother’s folding job, and places them in the bag. He starts to zip up the bag when he notices a hat hanging on the head of the bed. The hat is a worn down Los Angeles Lakers hat. The gold and purple are faded, strings are starting to show, there is a stain on the brim of the hat. Just by looking at it, he can tell this hat has been worn thousands of times. He gently takes the hat off the head of the bed.There is some dust on it, so he wipes it off as gently as one can. That’s when he notices it. The dark stain on the brim of the hat. Again, a warm feeling comes over him like a heated blanket on a winter’s night. 

The hat was one at a carnival. Really nothing to it. All his brother had to do was make 3 shots with a basketball and it was his. He knew his brother could do it, they were always at the park playing hoops with either each other or the other kids in the neighborhood as well. His brother was never athletic enough to be one of the stars of the team but he put in the time when it came to his shot. It was what made their one vs one games so close. He would dribble drive past his brother while his brother would pull up and hit jump shots. So when it came to win that hat. He knew his brother had it. That hat had been through a lot. It was there when the Kings won the Stanley Cup. It was there through all the heartbreaks that the Dodgers caused them. It was even there when the Lakers won it all. That night was special. They got tickets that were in the last row. They were so expensive that it took them each two full paychecks to buy them but it was worth it to see Kobe win it all live. That’s where the stain comes from. When Kobe hit a big shot late in the game, the crowd went so crazy that beer and other drinks were flying in the air. He and his brother got drenched in beer and soda. They reeked of it and were sticky. As they were drunkenly leaving the stadium, he threw out the hat he was wearing but his brother did not. He knew it was special and he kept it. He was not going to wash it. It was his lucky hat he would wear every time the Lakers played. The amount of times his brother threw that hat down in disgust became way too high to count. 

A loud bang at the door knocks him out of his daydream. The smile disappears from his face and he takes one last whiff of the hat before placing it in the bag. Little by little he continues to fill up the bag for his brother. Not everything being placed in the bag has a sentimental value, but there is something about placing his brother’s stuff in a bag that hit him differently. He did not want to be doing this but he has to. So he places the final item in the bag, slowly zips it up, and takes one last look around his brother’s room. While there is furniture in it, there is still a different feel. He takes a deep breath and heads out the door. 

To his surprise, he sees his brother waiting for him at the doorstep of his house. They don't say a word to each other. They know what is happening. Neither want it to happen but they understand. This may not be the end of their brotherhood, but it is going on hold for quite some time. As he walks towards the door, the bag feels heavier with each step. He opens the door slowly enough where the creek is loud and long. He extends his hand with the bag and just like that, the heaviness he felt is gone as his brother takes the bag from him. They nod at each other, shake hands, and his brother turns and heads towards his car. He cannot bring himself to watch so he turns away, only to notice something on his mantle. Just like that, that weight he felt is back, his eyes are red as they fight back tears. Slowly, he walks over to the mantle and takes down the object and just looks at it. That smile comes back and so do the memories. All of the sudden, it hits him. He starts to panic. He frantically runs out the door and stops his brother who was pulling out of the driveway. As he approaches the window, he reaches out and hands the item over to his brother. His brother takes one look at it, smiles and laughs to himself. He puts up the window, pulls out of the driveway, and heads his separate way. His bag all packed, gas tank full, and the picture his older brother gave him of the two of them with their mom. Laughing, smiling, and loving life.