He's My Brother

Big Fishes' Carnival at The Lake - He’s My Brother

I was trying to recall the day I met my brother.

The first thing that came to mind was the freezing wind. From all the difficult walks and all the struggle through numerous natural formations, I can’t remember anything as clear as the raging blizzard that surrounded us – it was the first time that I felt anything, anything else. I remembered seeing the blinding white fading away, much like my own consciousness. I remembered how the cold is sinking to my bones the way I was sinking into the snow. I remembered someone shouting my name – I was with another guy – before all the white turned pitch-black.



I wasn’t sure why I was there in the first place. All this time, everything stayed the same except for my ever-increasing bruises. All this time, the World was shouts and punches, corners and long nights, their fake smiles and their useless ‘help’. It didn’t need to change – why does it matter? It was always how things were. And then somehow, after a loud bang, it dropped still. Everything.

That’s when the other guy took me away, and somehow ended up there. I was never one to make sense out of things – this time shouldn’t be any different. However, my uncle was waiting for an answer.

“We were just.. on top of the mountain..” That was all I let out to him. Visible as the Everest, the crude and chilling mountain just across the window, was his disappointment at my short answer. By then I was already sitting on the floor, while my uncle were still rummaging through his bag full of stones – fossils? Artifacts? Ruin remnants? – and taking out some articles from his smaller bag. As the sun set and the cottage got colder, he paused for a second before taking out the jackets.

He threw one at me, while asking again whether what I told him was really everything I could remember before meeting my brother, and then continued asking how did I exactly met him. “Well..” I continued racking my brain, trying to let out just enough to satisfy him. To convince him to take me there again.

To be honest, back then I couldn’t believe my eyes when opened them, only to find a huge, lantern-lit room with solid rocks as walls and roof. Sharp rocks were on the unreachable ceilings, pointing down as if going to fall down on me. When I noticed a sound – a voice?  Conversation? – I turned my head and saw the other guy talking to some strangers. When they finally notice that I was awake, my brother – then a stranger – brisk walked to me with a clunky, penguin-like steps. I couldn’t help but laugh back then, and he followed with a warm smile.

I noticed that he was as tall as the eleven-year-old me, although much, much more bulky and muscular. When I was finished with my laughter (probably was a bit mean back then), he took me to the table with the other guy and another female stranger – also my height!

Back then there was another new feeling that I learnt about, other than the freezing cold: warmth. Of people. Of simple, nice dinner and evening songs. Of waking up to breakfast, although eating the same rat meat for dinner. Of digging together, jokingly stealing each other’s pickaxe saying it was ‘better’. Of sliding through an underground river slide knowing someone will catch you on the other side. Of trying not to burn each other while lighting up yet another lantern for the cave. Warmth, found in very strange places – warmth that pleaded me to stay.

He called me a ‘fine lad’, my brother. He said he hasn’t had so much fun with another person like this. The female stranger, apparently his ‘wife’, was not into all the manly stuff that my brother and I did together. He wished that I could stay with them forever, and I said, “Hey, if we’re brothers, we will be together!” To that, he closed his eyes, a relieved sigh coming out of his chest, as he muttered, “you’re bloody right.”

I smiled as I explained all these to my uncle. I guess he wasn’t very amused. “And how did you get back from that place? Was there anything significant around the entrance?” He asked impatiently. He kept looking back to the Everest, and as time passed his face grew just a bit darker with the night.

I remembered the other guy telling me that we’re ready to go. My brother had a very lonely expression behind his beard, yet he never said to the other guy what he said to me – that he wanted me to stay. His wife packed some food for us, enough for the journey down she said. Once he got everything he needed, the other guy just grabbed my hand and started dragging me out. I resisted. I said I wanted to stay. I told the other guy that my brother wanted me to stay. The other guy looked at his short stature, without saying a word. My brother, apparently intimidated by the other guy, looked at me with teary eyes. I knew he was acting strong. He told me, “Go, lad. He’s your brother. Follow him back home.” I couldn’t believe what he said – I thought he wanted me to be with him.

“Come back whenever you can, alright lad?” And with that, I made a promise.

I told my uncle what I remembered about the place – the entrance looked like two giant axes crossed, and I burnt that faded vision into my memory so that I could keep my promise. I just wished that he didn’t forget about me. “Will you take me there now?” I asked my uncle, waiting patiently to hear something from the radio. He didn’t answer me – instead he just kept muttering “the last dwarves” over and over. “Will you take me to my brother!?”

“Yes, yes alright!” he shouted, as I instinctively took a step back in surprise. He sighed, tried to find the smile that he wore a long time ago – the ones he dropped at a hint of my brother. Once he found it, he looked at me and said gently, “Once we found the place, we’ll take you there.” We waited for a couple more hours in that room, just waiting for the radio to cease its static. I just continued sitting on the cold floor, covering myself with oversized jacket, lips curving just a little. Much like back then, the cold managed to slip into my bones, and everything seemed to slow down and fade. This time, though, I was feeling hopeful. There was only one thing in my mind, when I finally let go.

I get to keep my promise.