Mitch leaned against a wall, looking tanned, rested, and healthy, unlike the rest of us ghostly beings who appeared to have just hobbled out of a nuclear war. At twenty-one years old, my half-brother was a collegiate athlete with the body to prove it. He was everybody’s favorite guy. Handsome. Athletic. And nice – like Mormon nice. He’d always been an ideal I couldn’t live up to, so instead of making him the hero of my story, I’d cast him as the villain, hating him accordingly.
When Jake went missing, Mitch had been in South America, building infrastructure for debilitated villages on an exchange program through his college. Word of the tragedy had been slow to reach him, and when he’d finally worked his way out of the developing country and found his way home, he was a month late.
No matter, though, because as soon as he arrived home, Mitch took over. Suddenly the piles of trash were gone, the holes in the walls patched up, and the dishes washed. Not only that, but superman gave poor Emma a break with the kids and managed to get Dad cleaned up and on the road to recovery. And then, boom, four days later Jake made the miraculous escape heard round the world, and Mitch came out looking like the good luck charm we’d needed all along. There had been no suffering for him, no late nights with the FBI ripping his home apart looking for clues, and no Steves telling him to stop hoping because his brother was dead. No, Mitch had shown up late for the game yet had still gone on to hit a grand slam.
The door to Jake’s hospital room swung open and Kyle stumbled out, darting his head around as if he were a cornered raccoon looking for escape. I gripped his arm and he jerked back, almost as if I’d jarred him from some nightmare in his head.
“What happened?” I asked.
His voice broke as he forced out the words. “He’s not there.”
Confused, I asked. “What do you mean? That’s not his room?”
Mitch grunted as if dealing with my stupidity was such an inconvenience. Pushing me aside, he grabbed Kyle and drew him into an embrace. “That’s not what he means, Keith. Use your brain.”
Then horror stamped out my confusion, and the full weight of Kyle’s words hit me.Jake. Wasn’t. There.In all my fantasy scenarios of him surviving the kidnapping, never had I thought up this one: that he would return to us… but not really.
Despite Mitch’s diss, my slipup was somewhat justified. My siblings and I had not been privy to the specifics of Jake’s condition. The details were kept far away from our bleeding ears. But it didn’t take a genius to put the big pieces of the puzzle together once the bodies of Ray Davis’s former victims began coming out of the cold, hard ground. Jake had not only escaped a prolific serial killer, but he’d taken that fucker down. A full-on knife battle at his final stand, and somehow my little brother had emerged the victor – sort of. I found it hard to declare him the ‘winner’ when the thirteen-year-old boy now lying broken and shattered just beyond that door had lost absolutely everything.
The door opened wider as my parents followed Kyle out of the room, looking grim as their eyes scanned the lot of us. Shit, they were going to scrap the whole thing. Mitch, Kyle, Emma, and I had waited eight days to see Jake, and I wasn’t going down without a fight. I needed to see him, if only to ease my fear of what was behind that door. I knew Jake wouldn’t be the same smiling, sarcastic kid he’d been before, but I needed to know he could get there again – eventually.
Mom gently slid her hand through what remained of Kyle’s freshly shorn head of hair. “You kids can still visit, but just understand, Jake’s on a lot of pain medication. He might be confused and have trouble remembering who you are.”
Was that what had happened? Had he failed to remember Kyle – his partner in crime? Those two were like the same side of a coin. This was bad. It wasn’t what was scarred onto Jake’s body that worried me most, it was the matter of what couldn’t be seen – the psychological violence that would stay with him a lifetime.
Slipping her arm around Kyle, Mom whispered something in his ear before leading him away.
Once they were out of earshot, Emma asked, “What happened in there?”
Dad’s gaze lifted, and I took in the dark bags sagging under his eyes. He looked so tired; Mom too. Both had aged years in the last month and a half, and by the looks of it, they’d be continuing down this haggard path for a long time to come. I should have been there to carry some of the burden.
“Jake just sort of looked right through Kyle like he didn’t even see him. It was heartbreaking. Your mother says to give him time, but…”
While Mitch offered Dad the emotional support he needed, Emma glanced at me, the fear in her eyes matching my own. If Jake couldn’t remember Kyle, what hope did the rest of us have? My sister absently stroked the neck of the guitar she’d insisted on bringing for Jake. In her mind’s eye, music would be his healing grace, but after what we’d just learned, maybe she’d wasted her time lugging it all the way here.
“No. He’s going to be okay,” Dad reasoned, pulling himself back together. “Once they wean him off the pain meds, he’ll be okay.”
Over the past week, I’d been weaning myself off pain meds too, but I’d never forgotten who Kyle was.
“He just needs time to adjust and heal. Keep your visit short and your expectations low. That way you won’t be disappointed. Mitch, why don’t you go next?”
Mitch? What the fuck? Why was he always first in line? It didn’t matter that the amount of time he’d spent in our family consisted of summers and holidays, and that was only until he turned sixteen and decided we were no longer worth the visit. The last summer he’d spent with us was when Jake was only eight. And yet, still, Mitch got the coveted pimp spot.
Typically I just stewed in silence, but not today… not when I was feeling the sting of injustice. “Why does he get to go first? If Jake didn’t know who Kyle was, what makes you think he’d recognize Mitch? He’s not even Jake’s real brother.”
My words hit their mark. Mitch winced. Dad winced. Even Emma cringed before hastily looking away. My eyes bounced off every stunned face, and maybe I would have even celebrated the verbal victory had Mitch not swiftly pushed me up against the wall.
“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again,” he seethed, his grip tightening as he leaned in so close I could feel his breath on my heated skin. “He’s my brother too.”
In his dreams. Mitch was just the shiny trophy on the shelf – the one you went to for advice on how to be a winner. But I was the real deal – Jake’s oldest brother, the one who’d been there for him when he needed defending against bullies or for advice on his first kiss. I was his hero – not Mitch. Not ever.
“Do you have any idea how that makes me feel when you downgrade me like that, Keith? Huh? Was it my fault Dad didn’t marry my mom and give me full-blooded siblings? No! You’re no more entitled to your brothers and sisters than I am, so shut your fucking mouth.”
Mitch rarely lost his cool, but when he did, it was always spectacular – and always my fault. His piece spoken, he released me from the wall. Dad shook his weary head, staring at me with the disappointed look I knew so well. Fuck him. Fuck them all! I didn’t need this shit.
“You know what? Go ahead, Mitch. I’ll take a backseat… like always.”
Pushing past my father, I made sure to drop my shoulder and barrel into my fake brother for good measure. As I stalked off, I turned and made eye contact with Emma. The pleading in her eyes did not escape me… nor did it alter my path.
