Time: A Tale of Two Brothers

They said that time heals all wounds. That’s what I’ve heard all my life. Now whether or not that's true, I have yet to find out. But last Thursday I decided to test the theory. 

My brother, Charlie, and I had a falling out. To make a long story short, I’m a drunk and so is he. But Charlie, he’s been recovering for sometime now. He goes to AA meetings, therapy, he’s patched things up with his wife-the whole nine yards. And he’s made good progress. He only has two beers on Saturday nights compared to downing a twelve pack. As for me, I haven’t had the courage. I’m a coward through and through. Why change? I ask myself. Charlie changed for his wife, his kids, he changed so he could have a stable family life. Me? I have no wife, no kids, I don’t even have a good job. I’m a janitor for Christ’s sake. What do I even have to live for?

But Charlie and I’s troubles have been for life. Growing up, Charlie was the golden boy of the family. Star baseball player, straight A’s, dated the hottest girls in school. He was my dad’s favorite. And me? I was a burnout, selling pot from the age of fourteen, smoking and drinking and skipping classes. Whereas Charlie was studious and smart, I was reckless and stupid. I never understood Charlie’s drinking. Me, I drink because I have nothing to live for and drinking a neat whiskey drowns out my thoughts. But Charlie has it all; A gorgeous wife, two beautiful girls, a big house with a picket fence. What possible reason could he have to drown his sorrows?

But I digress. 

The argument took place at my mom’s house. She invited everyone over for some pot roast. I bought a twenty four pack of beer for me and Charlie to split and he didn’t appreciate it. “I’m not drinking tonight, Danny,” he sighed. 

“C’mon on, brother, don’t let me be the only one here having a good time.”

He looked at me seriously. Looked me up and down. Charlie’s a good looking guy, tall, fit, dark hair that's graying a little at his temples. Me, I’m barely five foot nine and wild-haired and I always wear ratty clothes that I’ve had for years. “I’m serious, Danny. I’m done and you should be, too.”

“Oh so what? You think you’re better than me?” I said with a chuckle though he knew I was offended. “You think you’re better than me with all your AA meeting bullshit and therapy?”

“No, Danny. I’m just saying maybe you should think about your health.” He said it calmly but what I said next is what started the fight.

“I bet you only got sober because Lenore got tired of you being limp dicked in the bedroom.”

Charlie stood up from the table and decked me across the face. I fell to the ground. I couldn’t blame him. I regretted the words once I said them. Mom freaked out, went off on Charlie while helping me up all while Charlie told his girls to put their shoes on. Lenore sat silently at the table, hands folded in her lap. “You hit like a little girl,” I laughed, blood spluttering from my mouth. “Can’t handle the truth, huh, Charlie?”

He looked back at me, still ass on the ground. He shook his head and he and his family left. Mom and I ate the pot roast in silence. 

But it’s been months and Charlie doesn’t return my phone calls. I stop by his house but Lenore tells me he’s busy. It’s a bunch of horseshit if you ask me. He just doesn’t want to face me. Or maybe what I said was the last straw. 

Charlie and I were never close growing up. I always felt as if I was in his shadow. He was better than me at everything. Like I said, he was the star and I was the burnout loser who was only cool because I got the cooler kids weed and stole liquor from the store. 

But last Thursday, I had had enough. So I went to where Charlie works, Hamilton High School as an AP history teacher. School day was done. I said hi to the secretary, a lady I knew back when I went to school and that was damn near twenty years ago. I found Charlie in his classroom, erasing the whiteboard. I knocked on the door and he looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Really, Danny? You can’t take my silence or my ignoring your phone calls as a sign that I don’t wanna talk to you?”

“You may not wanna talk but I do.” I shrugged and looked around the room. It looked exactly as it did when we were in school except I didn’t take AP history, I was only guessing that it looked the same. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I wanted to say sorry?”

Charlie stood straight, arms crossed over his chest. “Then say it. Say you’re sorry.”

I sighed. It took a lot for me to admit that I was wrong but fact of the matter was, I missed hanging out with my brother. I missed watching ball games with him. I missed having a drink out on the porch. “I’m sorry, Charlie.”

His expression didn’t change neither did his stance. He was a stubborn bastard, just like I am. 

“Look, what do you want me to do? Fall to my knees and beg?”

“That’s a start.”

“I ain’t doing that shit.”

Charlie huffed and grinned, shaking his head, as he started packing up his suitcase. I remember when he got that for Christmas, years ago after he graduated college. Mom got him a nice leather suitcase and he’s been using it ever since. I bet it cost a pretty penny too. Mom never got me anything that nice. “You know, Danny, I’ve been watching you make a mess of your life for years. Never having a stable job, dead-end relationships, drinking until you’re blacked out. And don’t think for one second that I don’t know about your drug habit.”

I swallowed hard. I shook my head and looked away from him, hands shoved in my pockets. 

“But still whenever I look at you, I see that same little boy that you used to be. Sweet, giddy, always making everyone laugh. And I just have to stop and wonder, what happened to you?”

“What happened to me?” I repeated quietly. I dared to look back at him. 

“Yeah, man. What happened to you?”

“Do you have selective memory, Charlie?” 

“What?”

“Do you not remember how Dad treated me? Treated me like I was trash, dirt beneath his fucking feet. That man ragged on me til the moment he stopped breathing. Told me I was nothing so I became nothing. I became what he saw me as, a worthless piece of shit. So you wonder why I drink, huh? Well maybe it’s because I can’t get that bastard’s voice out of my fucking head.”

Charlie just looked at me, gawking at me like I was crazy. Then he bowed his head and dragged a hand through his hair. “And I didn’t protect you. Is that why you hold such a grudge against me?”

“Who says I hold a grudge against you?”

He lifted his head and he wore the saddest damn expression I had ever seen. “Why else would you encourage all my bad habits?”

I was silent and stumped. I couldn’t think of a retort. Instead I just felt sad and angry all at once. 

“You know, in therapy, I had a realization. You grew up looking up to me, like I was your hero. And that’s not me being full of myself, it’s just facts, Mom said it all the time. Anyways my therapist was asking me questions about yours and mine relationship. And I said it was toxic. You support all my bad habits. You encourage them, even. And I’ve always known this. Just like when you stole me and my friends beer and we all got drunk and then lost the tournament the next day. You laughed when I struck out. You told me it was no big deal but that was the first time our school had made it that far in the tournament in over two decades. You were jealous that I got all the attention. First you idolized me and then I made you feel inferior, that’s what my therapist said. And I was always hurt by that.”

“So what, is that loss what caused your drinking?”

“No. I have my own reasons, sure, but it’s not that. You may not remember but Dad was hard on me, too. He had high expectations. He wanted me to be a lawyer but my passions lied with teaching. ‘Teaching is a woman’s profession’ he said to me. ‘You’re better than that.’ And I felt like a disappointment to him and he never let me forget it. Dad was harsh on me, too, Danny, just in different ways.”

“So what’s the point, Char?”

“The point is, Danny, is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that Dad was an asshole to you and I’m sorry you always felt less than me. Because you aren’t less than me, Danny. You are capable of letting go of the past and overcoming it and becoming better. If I can do it, so can you.”

I laughed. What a bunch of horseshit. Just the kind of sentimental bullshit that Charlie would fall into. 

“Don’t laugh, Danny. It’s not funny.”

“I don’t drink because of some deep emotion or pain. Dammit, it’s fun. It’s nothing but good fun. And it’s not my problem that you can’t have a good time and drink.”

“Danny, it’s okay. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I ain’t lying.”

“Dad was a dick to you, that much is clear. And I don’t blame you for trying to find a way to bury those emotions. And living in my shadow, I know that must’ve been hard for you. And I’ve realized all of this while working on myself. And really, I’m sorry. And, for the record, I forgive you for that shit you pulled at Mom’s.”

“Then why blacklist me for so long?”

“Because I needed space, Danny. I needed time to think and to feel my own emotions and spend time with my own thoughts. I can’t fall back into my old habits, I have a family to think about. And being around you, with you encouraging me, it’s a trigger.”

“So I’m the bad guy, huh?”

“You’re not bad. You’re just…dangerous.”

I stared at him, feeling a profound sense of shock and disbelief. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to process his words. This wasn’t just anyone accusing me; it was my own brother, someone I had trusted and loved for years. And yet here he was, painting me as a threat, a danger, as if I were the most malevolent person imaginable. His words cut through me like a knife. I could feel the anger and frustration bubbling up inside me, and the urge to scream, to shout, to defend myself with everything I had was almost overwhelming. How could he so easily turn against me like this? We were friends, we were brothers. We drank together. We watched baseball together. I was there when his daughters were born. 

“Wow,” I said quietly. “Okay. All I wanted to do was come here and say I’m sorry and you’re making me feel like the biggest piece of shit.”

He shrugged. “I’m not trying to do that, Danny, I’m just trying to make you see yourself how you really are in hopes that you may seek help, too.”

“I don’t need help,” I said simply as I turned to the door. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”

As I walked out of that room, a heavy weight settled over me, making me feel like an utter failure. It was as if I had squandered the one chance I had to mend the rift between us. The reality of my estrangement from my brother hit me hard. I had always imagined that we would be inseparable, best friends through thick and thin. It was my deepest wish that we’d always share a bond of mutual love and understanding. And yet, here we were, at odds because of a stupid statement I made in drunkenness, my attempt to make things right only seeming to drive us further apart.

It’s been days since I last spoke to Charlie—last Thursday, to be exact. The silence between us is both a comfort and a torment. I can’t help but wonder if he feels the same pangs of regret and longing that I do. I hope he misses me as much as I miss him, that the absence gnaws at him just as it does at me. Despite the hurt and the anger, I genuinely wish him nothing but happiness and success. He may have hurt me deeply, but at the end of the day, he’s still my brother. Perhaps, with time, we’ll find a way to heal these wounds.