Time Peripheral

“How old are you today?”

He hesitates and then responds, “Seven or eight.”

Handing money to the cashier I look down at my brother, unruly mop of blond hair, eyes bright, patiently waiting for his purchases. A wave of sadness washes over me. I can’t hardly remember him at this age. There was too much turmoil in our lives at that time. So many blocked memories.

“Thanks sis." He grabs his snickers and gum and runs out of the convenient store to meet his friends outside. 

“Hey!” I call after him. Following him out the door, grocery bag in hand, I see him racing away on his bicycle. “Be home for dinner at 6!”

He looks back with a huge grin and waves his hand in acknowledgment. 

I watch his retreating back, wrinkled red t-shirt, wind whipping his hair. A flash of a memory captures my attention, it’s fleeting at first then rounds into details I haven’t remembered in a long time. Ben on the sidewalk outside our home growing up, holding his skinned up knees, trying really hard to hold back tears. 

I choke back the well of emotion rising in my throat. 

I had hid the beat up bike in a corner of the garage so our parents wouldn’t find it. Then cleaned and bandaged up his knees quietly in the bathroom while our father slept passed out on the couch in the living room. Careful to not let the screen door slam I took Ben for ice cream to help him feel better. Spent my last couple of dollars made from babysitting but it was worth it. It ended up being a happy afternoon for us, filled with laughter and sugar highs. But what terror followed when the bike was discovered…

“Jess, hi!” A high pitched voice rouses me back to the present. Turning I see my neighbor Olivia, weighed down with shopping bags, teetering on her very steep high heels.

“So happy to run into you! Did you get my message about the dinner party on Saturday? I’m just trying to nail down the last RSVP’s!” She laughs nervously, her red lips in an uncomfortable smile. 

“Umm I’d love to come but I’ve got a work dinner that night.” 

Lie. 

“Oh too bad, well next time! I’m thinking of making it a monthly neighbor tradition. The Miller’s are all for it!”

“Yeah sure count me in for next time.” I nod, making myself keep my polite plastered on smile a moment longer till I can turn around and leave. 

“Oh wonderful! Yes next month then!” She looks surprised. 

Rounding the corner of the building I shake my head in frustration. No one would understand my responsibilities outside of work. Honestly I barely understand myself.

I don't know how much longer I can keep my brother’s secret. 

~*~

Waking up with a start, I listen trying to make out what startled me awake. Looking at my phone I see it’s 2 am. 

A crash sounds from downstairs. Slowly getting up so the bed doesn’t creak, I reach down to grab my baseball bat from under the bed and creep silently down the padded stairs, bat raised and ready. There’s a shadow of a tall figure in the kitchen, silhouetted by the streetlights from the window. Whoever it is hasn’t seen me yet. 

Moving silently I hesitate not knowing if I should just go for it and swing in the dark or startle the intruder by switching on the light. I settle for the latter and am momentarily blinded by the glare.

“Ah Jess c’mon what the hell!” The tall youth in my kitchen is leaning over the kitchen sink, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness.

“Ben? Is that you?”

He turns his head and I recognize the face. Lowering the bat and leaning it against the wall I start towards him. “Are you ok?”

He mumbles incoherently, holding his head. 

“Are you hurt?!”

“Nah just drank too much.”

“Here sit down.” I pull at his arm, leading him to the kitchen table. Retrieving a glass from the cupboard, I fill it with water and hand it to him as I sit down. 

“Sorry I woke you.” He looks at me sheepishly, hair hanging limply across his forehead. 

Moving my hand I instinctively want to brush it out of his eyes but stop myself. He’s not a child today.

“Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

A look of guilt flits across his face as he stares at the water glass, absentmindedly shifting it back and forth with his fingers. 

“I should shower and get to bed. Thanks for the water.” Pushing back his chair he suddenly gets up and starts up the stairs. 

“Ben?”

Hesitating, he looks back at me.

“How old are you today?”

He shrugs with a lopsided smile, “Dunno. Sixteen, seventeen?”

I shake my head as he continues up the stairs. He’s certainly acting like a teenager. Coming home at 2 am after drinking. Just like he used to do.

I’m reminded how I used to slip out of bed to let him in the back door when he came home from partying with his friends. More than once he stumbled a little too loudly, waking Mom up. By this time I knew how to pacify her, convince her that staying quiet was best for us all. Let the snoring beast on the couch be kept in the dark. Maybe she could but I couldn’t stomach seeing my brother with another black eye. 

Sighing I turn off the light and go back to bed. It’s been a long time since I thought of those days, Ben in high school, me in community college while working full time. Ben was such an incorrigible teenager but he kept me laughing. 

After an hour of laying in bed thinking back to our youth I give up on sleep and turn on the bedside lamp. Getting up I search in the back of my closet for the shoe box I know is there. Brushing off the layer of dust that’s formed on the lid I carry it back to bed.

Inside are familiar well worn photos and souvenirs. My trip to Europe with the man I thought would be my forever. A man I had counted on to take me far away from the small town I grew up in, the family I was ashamed to be a part of. That is besides Ben. But that was part of the plan as well. To take him away from it all once I was married and had the means to provide for him, send him to college.

But things hadn’t gone according to plan.

~*~

“Ben breakfast is ready!”

I know he’s probably hung over but it’s almost noon. A week of this and I was getting fed up. Exasperated I flip the last pancake and turn off the griddle before trudging upstairs. Creaking open his bedroom door I peek inside prepared to see him face down in a mess of sheets per his usual. 

Dammit! 

The room is immaculate, clean and tidy, the window slightly open letting in a fresh cool breeze. 

And no Ben. 

Moving over to the window I look down at the front lawn, the roses, the picket fence. This house is exactly what I always wanted. Wanted for us. Coming home from work every day I never tire from the sight of it, the rush of warmth that I get from calling this place home. It helps me push away the years of shame I’ve felt from growing up in poverty. 

I turn back to gaze at his bedroom, the music posters plastered on the wall, soccer trophies on the dresser. Games I missed out on because I was seeing the world. Escaping. 

Leaving him to fend for himself. 

A familiar item catches my eye on his desk, and I pick up the stack of cards wrapped in a rubber band. Postcards. Postcards I sent him from all my destinations. 

Guilt balls up in my throat making it hard for me to swallow. Tears prick behind my eyes but I push them back, causing the lump in my throat to grow. I don’t feel like crying today. Besides he’ll be back. 

He always comes back. 

~*~

“How old are you today?” 

He doesn’t answer.

I’ve been apprehensive since I woke up this morning and saw Ben eating cereal at the breakfast table. He had been gone a lot longer this time.

“Ben how old are you today?” I repeat. 

“Twenty.” 

My head snaps over to where he’s laying on the picnic blanket, watching the lazy clouds scattered across the perfect blue sky. 

Heart hammering in my chest at his words, I still have to ask, “You think or you know?”

“Jess.” The tone of his voice makes me sit upright. “I know.”

“But what does this mean?” My hands are suddenly clammy and I can feel a full on panic attack coming on.

Sensing my distress Ben sits up and pulls me into a side embrace. “Hey it’ll be ok. I’ll be fine.”

My mind refuses to acknowledge what he’s saying. I push him away, shaking my head. “No you don’t know that! What if this is it and you don’t come back this time?!”

He’s quiet as he looks out over the view of the city. 

“This is my favorite spot,” he finally says. “So much possibility. So many intertwining lives being lived all at once. The energy is buzzing you can feel it. So different from where we grew up.”

 He turns to look at me. “The times I’m gone this is where I go.” 

I nod as I swallow the apprehension lodged in my throat. “I’ve always wondered.” 

He places his large hand over mine and says quietly, “Sis it’s time.” 

No. No. No. 

No I’m not ready!

“But isn’t there anything more...I mean surely you can’t mean…” I falter as tears slip down my cheek, my bottom lip trembling.

He gives me the smile and eyebrow raise that tells me I’m being too much. “It’s been a whole year you know.” 

But I still have so much to say! Guilt washes over me followed by panic as I realize this is my last chance. Literally this moment could be it. 

“I’m sorry!” I blurt out, choking back a sob. “I’m sorry I left you! I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I left you with them.” I bury my head in my hands, overcome with the emotions I’ve been stuffing down for so long. 

Ben lets me cry, one arm slung over my shoulder. 

Finally spent I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my sweater and look at him through blurred vision. “I don’t blame you if you never forgive me.” 

“Did you ever stop to wonder why I keep changing ages like I have?”

I hiccup and wipe my nose again as I think about that. “I figured that’s just how it was. You got the chance to relive everything and have a better life. Do the things you’ve always wanted to at whatever age.”

Ben shakes his head and wraps his arms around his knees, his look softening. “No sis. It was so you could remember.” 

“What?” 

“So you could remember how things really were. All those times growing up you were there for me. Even towards the end when you thought you weren’t, when you were off living your life finally, seeing the world, that kept me going. I looked forward to those postcards more than you know. Because they gave me hope. You gave me hope.” 

I think back on the past year, all the memories that had resurfaced. Gaps of time I had recovered, long buried, finally unearthed. A lot of warmth and laughter, but a lot of hurt came up by the shovel fulls as well.

“Ok so I have remembered but…”

“I’m hoping you remembered enough to know you made it your job to make sure I was ok. Whatever guilt you’re still clinging to, it's time to let go of it.”

Grasping my hand once more he adds, “It’s been my turn to make sure you’re ok. And I’m thankful I got the chance to do it.” 

Leaning my head against his shoulder I can’t stop the tears that continue to fall. “Love you little brother.” 

“Love you sis.”

We stay like this till the clear blue skies darken, replaced by brilliant splashes of color.

It’s not till the last ting of pink and orange fades from the horizon that I muster the strength to get up. Shaking out the picnic blanket I fold it under my arm and make my way home.