He had done so ever since he was a child, and it was both a habit and game to him, a way for Jan to entertain himself whenever he was alone. Today, he had his favorite NBA jersey over his shirt, and he also had a sports band over his forehead as well as a matching wristband. She supposed he was trying to look athletic, but because of his boyishly chubby face and the fact that he had outgrown his jogging pants, he looked more like an extra for an aerobics video from the eighties.
Leaning against the doorway, she simply listened to his conversation, and soon Ilse realized that today’s roleplaying had Jan assuming the role of an NBA coach. Right now, “Coach Jan” was in the middle of giving instructions to his imaginary roster of players during a crucial timeout. “You need to do this—-” As he spoke, Jan’s fingers started moving in the air like he had a play board on his hand and he was moving the magnet markers to illustrate the play he wanted his guys to execute.
She watched her brother continue playing animatedly, and she hastily swallowed back a bubble of laughter when he stepped to the right just before his cheeks puffed up like he was blowing on a whistle.
“Foul!” It was “Referee Jan” speaking this time, with Jan seamlessly slipping into a second role.
Jan then moved back to his original position, and he was back to his previous role as coach. “Are you blind?” he bellowed. “That was a foul, alright, but it’s anoffensiveone! Got that? Offensive! O-P-H-E-N-C-E-A-V-E!”
Ilse’s jaw dropped.
That had to be the most complicated misspelling of offensive, and this time she couldn’t help it.
A laugh escaped Ilse, and Jan turned to her, completely indifferent to the fact that he had been caught talking to himself. “What is it?”
“I...um...have a question.” The words came out of nowhere, but as soon as they slipped past her lips, she could no longer stop her lips from twitching.“I have a question”was what her mom used to ask as a prelude for an old inside joke of the family—-
An image of how her family had used to be flashed in her mind.
Her mom grinning, her dad seated on his favorite armchair and doing his best not to laugh—-
Ah.
So many memories crashing down on her, she could almost feel herself sinking in their depths, and her throat tightened so hard she almost needed to choke and gasp for breath.
Mama.
Papa.
Jan was talking to her, and his voice slowly drew her out, rescuing her, and she clung to the sound.
As images of her parents started to fade and she started to see her brother again, she had the most terrifying urge to close her eyes and halt her return to reality.
I miss you so much, Mama, Papa.
So, so much—-
“Ilse, Ilse, can you hear me?”
But her brother needed her. And she needed him. Their parents needed Jan and her to stay here.
She opened her eyes, and she saw Jan gazing at her in puzzlement. “Ilse, what’s your question?” Jan was demanding. “Tell me because I need to go back to playing soon.”
His impatience, his sheer innocence, made Ilse shakily draw a breath. It was like feeling her parents’ embrace through it, and oh God, how it hurt, thinking – no,knowing– that wherever they were, her parents were watching over them.
Always.
“So what’s your question, Ilse?”
Clearing her throat, she gave her brother a serious look, asking with utter solemnity, “Are you crazy?”
Her brother shook his head immediately. “No.”
“But you’re talking to yourself,” she pointed out. “Only crazy people talk to themselves.”
“I know that,” Jan said patiently. “And that’s why I know I’m not crazy.”
And here it comes,Ilse thought.
