What a boy should do

I should thank the mysterious ‘Cargo Cult’ for giving this room an actual, bona fide purpose. For too long it’s been the den of my inequities—the place where it’s easier for me to just throw things in, rather than putting them away. Or getting rid of them altogether.

When all those boxes were in this room, you couldn’t see how the walls aren’t even the same color. Maybe they did this on purpose, the opposite walls are the same beige. They’re different shades of beige, one more orange, the other more pink. Both beige, but not the same. Odd.

Drew is going to be a busy boy when he gets back from his honeymoon. That brother of mine promised to help me put up shelves in the garage for all that had been in this room—all that I’m keeping. I’ll be holding him to his promise.

That should give me another chance to convince him. Maybe I can get my new sister-in-law to help.

A boy should be there when his mother is laid to rest.

The loveseat sleeper I bought this morning is blue, which should go with the beige, I hope. It’s too bad it won’t get here till tomorrow. Drew said he's bringing an air mattress for his step-son to sleep on tonight. Him needing a place to stay came as a surprise. Thanks to this mysterious ‘Cargo Cult.’

Cane’s dad has his own company and needs to stay abroad, near these people he calls the ‘Cargo Cult,’ longer than expected. That means he can’t be back in time to have Cane stay with him during his ex-wife’s honeymoon. My new nephew is going to be staying with me for the next few weeks.

They told me what this cult thing was about, but I don’t remember. I don’t even recall which country this is in. I just know it’s one of those ‘ia’ countries. They confuse me—Romania, Bulgaria, Estonia.

During that last semester of finals, the year before last, I had overdone caffeine. As I’m pouring my fourth cup, at two in the afternoon, I’m starting to wonder if I might be overdoing it again.

This house is small. It’s been okay just for me. Cane can tell us in a couple of weeks if it’s too small for the two of us.

My brother didn’t return my page, so I didn’t know what to get on the pizza. I ordered one with veggies and the other with pepperoni. I hope Cane’s not a vegan. He’s only 8. Is that too young to be a vegan?

Drew thinks we’re going to get along great. He told me how Cane loves to play Dungeons and Dragons. The only thing I know about that game is it uses a lot of dice. I hope he brings them with him. The only dice I have in this house are right there in the cupboard, in a Yahtzee box.

“We’re home!” Drew and Cane enter the living room, each with his arms full.

As I put my cup down and walk over, I wonder what it’s going to be today? It’s sometimes a hug, sometimes a handshake, and sometimes, it's just a fist bump. Drew drops what he’s carrying and holds his arms out for me. This is a hug day.

“Your room is right there.” I point to the empty guest room. Cane then trudges along, barely able to carry what he has. “Come back after you’ve put your things down.”

“How is my favorite sister today?” I’m starting to wonder if my brother overdoes caffeine too, as he enters my kitchen, he pours himself a cup.

“I’m still your only sister. Is there anything he shouldn’t eat? Any allergies?”

“Relax Avi.” Drew walks around to the far side before he sits. His inner outlaw always wants his back to the wall. “Cane’s an omnivore, he can eat anything. He just doesn’t always want to do what he should.”

He’s given me another chance to try to convince him. “Sometimes it’s hard to get boys to do what they should.”

Drew looks at me like he knows where this is going. “Don’t start.” He gets up. I can see he wants to be mad, I just don’t see him actually being mad. Talk of our mother has made him angry before; this doesn’t seem to be the angry Drew.

I shake my head, trying to reason with him. “You have another month before you need to decide. You didn’t attend the service two years ago after dad had her cremated. I know her passing was hard for you, but we get why you didn’t attend.” 

Drew paces in front of me, gathering his thoughts, it seems. I continue, “Now, dad will be having her ashes buried, here, before he moves to Iceland.”

He then opens the cupboard where I keep the china I got from dad after mom died and points. “You know why this set of china is missing plates, right?”

Cancer triggered our mother’s dementia, she ended up taking the agitation that developed out on Drew—for far too long. I draw in my breath to continue my case. He holds up a hand and I stay quiet.

“I know what you’re going to say. It was incredibly shitty that cancer took her from us. It was shittier that it gave her dementia. And her throwing those plates at me, among other things, for all those years, was also shitty.” Drew walks over to his seat. I can’t tell if he still wants to pace or just stand still.

It was all on Drew to take care of her during those rough years. Dad’s job kept him on the road and I was away at school.

“It got so bad I finally did want what he wouldn’t. I was the one that put her in a home.” She was in that mental home for another year before the cancer took her.

Drew sits back down. His therapist showed him how to release his anger. I don’t rush him. In these moments, patience is the virtue.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He exhales slowly, then his empty hands push something away—his bad chi I think. Him being mad just now wasn’t like some of those other times. He only needed to push away the bad chi once.

He opens his eyes, looks at me and calmly says, “I’ve heard it before.”

A confused Cane walks into the kitchen and looks at us both. “What?”

I wipe away a tear as I hold out both arms. “Your aunt needs a hug.” Cane has a funny look as I pull him in and embrace.

I then put him in a chair as I grab him a can of soda and give him a glass with ice. “You’ll have to show me how to play this game with the dragons.”

He takes a drink before he answers. “We can’t. There are only the two of us, we need more.”

At this, a recovered Drew jumps in. “He’s getting something ready for us. All four of us, you, me, him and Connie.” It’s funny how much my brother is into his wife, his eyes still light up whenever he mentions her name. “Cane is going to be some sort of master.”

Cane is shaking his head. “Dungeon Master, it’s nothing. Every game needs one.” Cane looks almost sheepish as he says this.

“Let him help you build a character. That process is lots of fun on its own. He’s good at it.” Drew now musses Cane’s hair. I wonder if that’s getting old for Cane. It seemed like my brother did that the whole wedding.

“Well, I know something you can do with just you and me.” I nod sideways over to the living room, as if pointing with my head.

“What?” Cane is curious, almost eager.

“There’s a black and green box in there. Why don’t you hook up what’s inside?” This comment seems to have sparked Drew’s interest.

“Avi? What did you buy?”

“A game console. A friend at work sold her old one to me.” I turn to Cane. “Why don’t you get it ready.”

“Yeah!” Cane eagerly leaps and enters the living room. He dives into that box, examining what’s inside.

I turn back to my brother. “When do you want him in bed for the night?”

“10 or so. Connie will let you know. He’s still on break, so it’s not that big a deal right now. She’ll tell you. I should have asked.”

As he says this—what he should have done—I see the same look I saw on him earlier, when we had that talk about our mother. Well, his mother, she didn’t give birth to me, but she was the only mom I ever knew.

I don’t know why, but this says to me that he knows what he should do.

Even if he doesn’t want to.