The Brown Family

“Through ups and downs, together stick the Browns.” That had always been their motto. It started during the depression, when Mother and Father were still around. After so many days of struggling for just enough food to keep moving, they had to find some way to try and hold themselves together. And so the saying was born.

Over the next few months, the line would make an appearance in the midst of tribulations and struggles that somehow managed to bring the family closer than they ever were. Crammed together in their studio apartment, they shared laughs and smiles that were such a contrast to the world outside. And even with the little they had, they were happy.

Then Mother and Father died. No one really saw it coming. The fever spread before anyone really knew of its existence. One day they were heading to the square to get the family’s allowance of flour, and the next they were wasting away, foreheads damp and hands clammy. That left just Nancy and Corbin. The Browns. Each of them worked whatever jobs they could get their hands on, even if it meant trying to figure it out as they went. And they somehow managed to scrape together enough money to get by.

They still spent every evening together in that old studio apartment, sitting on the floor as they told each other stories about their days. They shared laughs. They smiled. And they knew that they only had each other, and that was okay.

The economy was beginning to stabilize, and Nancy was able to get a permanent job as a waitress at one of the reopened diners. Corbin kept working side jobs whenever he could find them, bringing in enough to even buy some nicer things like new shoes and jackets. And the Browns stuck together, and they were okay.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such an amazing job like I have,” Nancy said one night.

“What do you mean?” Corbin replied. “As much as we went through, as hard as you worked, you deserve it.” Nancy flashed him a soft smile and they left the topic alone for a while.

Nancy kept working, from sunup to sundown, at that same old diner. Corbin spent most of his time in the apartment, but he still occasionally picked up jobs here or there to make sure their ends meet. It all worked well until the day rent came, and Nancy came to realize that the tin jar they kept their savings in was far too empty.

“Corbin, did you use any money?” She asked. He was allowed to spend, of course, but they had a mutual agreement that they were to inform each other of where their money went. Nancy handled the bills and Corbin handled the home, so each had their fair share of expenses.

“I bought groceries the other day,” Corbin said in between sips of soup. 

“Fifty pounds worth?” Nancy asked, eyebrows raised.

Corbin seemed completely unfazed, watching the liquid slosh around as he stirred his soup. “Prices have jumped over the past couple of days. Should drop back soon though.”

Nancy sighed, running a hand though her blonde hair. She had Father’s appearance when it came to her hair, but everything else about her looked just like Mother. Her brown almond eyes, her high-set cheekbones, her small lips. The resemblance was almost disturbing. Corbin, however, did not look much like Mother or Father, showing only minimal signs of either of them in his features. His eyes were blue, much different from Mother’s brown and Father’s green. His face was somewhat round, but still had shape. The only true give away that he was the son of a Brown was the line that creased in his forehead whenever he smiled, and only Nancy got to see that side of him.

“I’ll have to see if I can take up more hours at the diner,” she said, massaging her temples. It was obvious from the shadows under her eyes and the softness of her voice that she was already exhausted, but she did not have much other choice.

“And I’ll see if I can find more work,” Corbin said, a hint of disappointment buried in his voice.

“And through ups and downs, together stick the Browns,” Nancy whispered to herself.

She barely got her bowl to the kitchen sink before she collapsed into her cot in her corner of the apartment. Corbin pittered around for a while longer before seeking refuge in his own corner. With Nancy out, he did not hesitate to slip the flask out from under his pillowcase and take a few heavy swigs of the bitter fluid. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and flopped back. He stared off at the ceiling, mind lost in the abyss of his thoughts. The guilt settling in his gut seemed to become less noticeable with each sip of alcohol. So when the small bottle was dry, he slipped it back into its hiding place before trying to fall asleep.

As with every other morning, Nancy rose before the sun to get ready for work. But when she did, she found herself heaving the previous night’s dinner into the toilet. After coming to the decision work was out of the question for today, Nancy grabbed a bucket and went back to her cot. She curled on her side, the anxiety of missing a day’s pay and the nausea creating a horrible concoction of discomfort. No matter, she eventually fell back asleep.

When Corbin woke, the sun was directly in his line of sight. He sat up, feeling the pains of last night’s sins pounding in his head. With a groan, he pulled himself up and was surprised to see Nancy still in bed. Upon seeing the bucket, he chose to leave her be on the assumption she felt ill. With her being home today, Corbin knew he would need to actually go out and at least make a sorry attempt at finding work. He slipped on a clean shirt and trousers and made his way out of the apartment.

At about noon, Nancy woke again to find that her nap had rid her body of the misery of sickness. She saw that Corbin had gone out, so she took it upon herself to try and wash sheets since she was home. She pulled her covers off of her mattress first, tossing them in the washing tub. She then walked to Corbin’s corner to grab his sheets. She never really looked in his section of the house, so she decided to take a quick glance as she started disrobing the bed. The only things really in the corner were a small clock and an old family picture. As she shook the pillow from its case, a loud crash bounced off the walls of the apartment. She looked to the floor to see shards of brown glass that had fallen from under the pillow. She stared at the shards on the floor, knowing exactly what they were from. She lowered herself to the floor, peeking under the edge of the cot. As she suspected, a lineup of other bottles and a wad of money were hidden just out of sight. She brought herself upright, sitting herself on Corbin’s bed.

“And through ups and downs,” she whispered, trying not to let herself choke on her tears. “Together stick the browns.”