I found my brother crawling on the edge of the stairway and my mother's voice and grabbed him by his overalls to drag him away. He looked bewildered to be sliding backwards, little baby knees sliding fruitlessly back and forth trying to crawl the other way. Issac looked up at me bewildered, but I didn't let go of the red little overalls.
"I saved him," I exclaimed to my mother when she returned up the stairs.
"Oh?"
"He was going to fall down the stairs and I saved him!"
It hadn't been that near a miss in reality but my mother was immensely pleased with me and wanted to encourage this behavior. She picked me up and hugged me, and presented me with a copy of "Babar and Father Christmas" as a reward. I would still pick up the tattered VHS box years later with pride and remember how I had nobly saved my brother.
"Issac will need a lot of protection and teaching," my mother said, "you will always have to be a good big sister and look out for him...keep him out of trouble."
I beamed. I felt important.
***
***
"Hugga hugga hugga squeeeeeeeeeeeze," my mother would say, holding my brother in her arms. On each hug she would give him a strong hug and on the word squeeze she would hold him as long as the word lasted and kiss him on the head. My brother found this comforting when the world became overwhelming, which was often. This was the age where firetruck sirens were terrifying and we couldn't play music on our speakers because it was all overwhelming.
Keeping my brother out of trouble had been a great game when I was five and he was two, but as I neared seven I began to understand that my friends did not need to do nearly as much protecting of their younger siblings as I did, and I grew tired of the game of being important because I looked out for him. It became a chore. He worshipped me, and he wanted to follow me everywhere. As time progressed I just wanted to get away from him.
Keeping my brother out of trouble had been a great game when I was five and he was two, but as I neared seven I began to understand that my friends did not need to do nearly as much protecting of their younger siblings as I did, and I grew tired of the game of being important because I looked out for him. It became a chore. He worshipped me, and he wanted to follow me everywhere. As time progressed I just wanted to get away from him.
***
Sunday school was difficult: not in an academic sense, but in a behavioral one. I had to wear a dress for one thing, and patent leather shoes which always seemed to come home with scuffs on them, much to my amazement and my mother's distain. I never cared much for my teachers, and I felt like they always taught the same things over and over, but at 8 I was really too young to have much in the way of religious opinions or disbelief in what figures of authority told me was true. Hell, I'm not sure if I had even sorted out Santa Claus yet.
And the LORD said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper? And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground. And now art thou cursed from the earth...Genesis 4:9-11
"That's wrong!" I said. I didn't understand at the time that God was upset with Cain for killing his brother, I thought he was mad about Cain not looking out for his little brother. Its amazing how sanitized the world presented to me at that age was.
"What's wrong?" the Sunday school teacher asked.
"Abel wasn't Cain's problem! What if Cain had other stuff to do? Why did he have to be Abel's keeper?"
The Sunday school teacher shook her head, "we are all our brother's keepers, Pika."
I was cranky the whole way home. When I got home I threw my patent leather shoes in my closet and my littly frilly dress on the floor to put my normal clothes back on. Then I pulled my stuffed animals off the shelves and sulked. God seemed pretty demanding and pretty eager to take the fun out of most things.
My brother's head cracked in the doorway and a big pair of blue eyes looked at me.
"NO!" I shouted, "You can't come in here. This is mine. I'm playing by myself."
My brother looked baffled. I sat there for a moment. I knew this wasn't how I was suppose to behave.
"Alright...you can play with one." I presented him Blue Bunny. He grabbed one ear and a foot and started pulling. I could almost hear the little stitches pop.
"No!" I shouted, "stop that! Blue bunny doesn't like that!" I tugged at the animal in his hands and he held on harder. Eventually I extracted it from his hands and stormed back into my room, leaving my bewildered little brother outside the slammed door. There was a few second pause before he started bawling. I could hear my mother's voice outside the door comforting him, and I felt very bad. Mom said I had to be patient with him until he was older and he could learn better. I felt like I had, but apparently it wasn't enough time.
***
"Pika's little brother is weird," Carolyn said to the group, making a funny face. The bus rattled and clanked off to Girl Scout Camp with all of us bouncing along inside.
"So what?" I asked.
"He acts funny!" she said, "he rocks back and forth and he talks to himself."
"Oh yeah? Well my brother is smart. He can name all the fish in the aquarium. Can your brother do that?"
Carolyn was quiet for a moment.
"That's right," I said, "and your brother is annoying too."
"So what?" I asked.
"He acts funny!" she said, "he rocks back and forth and he talks to himself."
"Oh yeah? Well my brother is smart. He can name all the fish in the aquarium. Can your brother do that?"
Carolyn was quiet for a moment.
"That's right," I said, "and your brother is annoying too."
***
"What..." Mime said, looking at my snowpants and big rubber boots.
"My mom made me wear them. She says I can't go sledding without them. I asked not to...I know they aren't cool..."
Mime rolled her eyes a little gesturing to where my little brother was running around a tree shaking snow off the lower branches. He wrung his hands and rocked and muttered to himself in delight. She sighed, "and you brought him?"
"He's ok. I told him he isn't allowed to talk to anybody."
Looking back on it you may fault me as cruel for making this rule for my brother, but sometimes I did not have the patience to explain the complexities of things and did not want to spend all afternoon justifying him to my friends. My brother lived for black and white rules, and this simple one made so much of my life easier.
Mime, her sister Plato, Issac and I all headed for the sledding hill, but when Mime saw that Laura and her cronies were already at the hill she nearly turned back.
"Whatever," I said, "there is room to share."
Things went fairly peacefully for the first hour. Laura and her friends from time to time would say rude things about my brother, but neither of us rose to the bait. After growing board of this she switched tactics.
"Nice snowpants, Pika," she grinned. None of them were wearing big bulky snowpants.
"Yeah, my mom made me wear them."
"Hah, you always do whatever your parents say?"
"Invariably," my brother nodded, "Pika always honors our father and mother. She is the best."
There we go. In one line my brother had demonstrated his habit of reading the dictionary and saying words no eight year old knew, and also quoted the black and white rules of the Bible to win an arguement. It was very noble of him to stick up for me, it just happened to be the last thing we needed.
First she was mocking, then her cronies were mocking, and then my brother was shouting, and then they were pushing him. I ran up and joined the crowd, but couldn't think of anything better to say than "Knock it off!"
Laura was sneering. My brother was theatening that I would beat her up, just like I fought other kids who pushed him around. I was petrified.
Somehow it was agreed that I would fight Laura in a snowball fight. I asked for a moment to build a fort, but I knew it was in vain. Laura would run up, tackle me, and jam snow down my clothing, and then beat the shit out of me. I was weaker than her, smaller than her, and far slower in these God-awful snow pants. The fort was important though because it kept my brother occupied to build it while I tried to figure out a plan.
"I hope you appreciate," Mime said a few hours later when we were wrapped in blankets and drinking hot cocoa, "everything I did to get you out of that."
"You didn't do anything! You sat around with Laura's cronies and you were going to let them pummel me. Plato saved us because she's the only one who threw a fit to stop the fight."
"Plato lay on the ground and cried."
"Yeah! And it worked! And it was a lot more than you did!"
"You are so ungrateful," Mime said.
"Pika, is not! Pika is the best!" my brother shouted.
"Oh will you shut up!" I snapped. "This is how we got into trouble in the first place."
My brother looked upset to hear me shout at him like that for giving me a compliment. He didn't understand.
"My mom made me wear them. She says I can't go sledding without them. I asked not to...I know they aren't cool..."
Mime rolled her eyes a little gesturing to where my little brother was running around a tree shaking snow off the lower branches. He wrung his hands and rocked and muttered to himself in delight. She sighed, "and you brought him?"
"He's ok. I told him he isn't allowed to talk to anybody."
Looking back on it you may fault me as cruel for making this rule for my brother, but sometimes I did not have the patience to explain the complexities of things and did not want to spend all afternoon justifying him to my friends. My brother lived for black and white rules, and this simple one made so much of my life easier.
Mime, her sister Plato, Issac and I all headed for the sledding hill, but when Mime saw that Laura and her cronies were already at the hill she nearly turned back.
"Whatever," I said, "there is room to share."
Things went fairly peacefully for the first hour. Laura and her friends from time to time would say rude things about my brother, but neither of us rose to the bait. After growing board of this she switched tactics.
"Nice snowpants, Pika," she grinned. None of them were wearing big bulky snowpants.
"Yeah, my mom made me wear them."
"Hah, you always do whatever your parents say?"
"Invariably," my brother nodded, "Pika always honors our father and mother. She is the best."
There we go. In one line my brother had demonstrated his habit of reading the dictionary and saying words no eight year old knew, and also quoted the black and white rules of the Bible to win an arguement. It was very noble of him to stick up for me, it just happened to be the last thing we needed.
First she was mocking, then her cronies were mocking, and then my brother was shouting, and then they were pushing him. I ran up and joined the crowd, but couldn't think of anything better to say than "Knock it off!"
Laura was sneering. My brother was theatening that I would beat her up, just like I fought other kids who pushed him around. I was petrified.
Somehow it was agreed that I would fight Laura in a snowball fight. I asked for a moment to build a fort, but I knew it was in vain. Laura would run up, tackle me, and jam snow down my clothing, and then beat the shit out of me. I was weaker than her, smaller than her, and far slower in these God-awful snow pants. The fort was important though because it kept my brother occupied to build it while I tried to figure out a plan.
"I hope you appreciate," Mime said a few hours later when we were wrapped in blankets and drinking hot cocoa, "everything I did to get you out of that."
"You didn't do anything! You sat around with Laura's cronies and you were going to let them pummel me. Plato saved us because she's the only one who threw a fit to stop the fight."
"Plato lay on the ground and cried."
"Yeah! And it worked! And it was a lot more than you did!"
"You are so ungrateful," Mime said.
"Pika, is not! Pika is the best!" my brother shouted.
"Oh will you shut up!" I snapped. "This is how we got into trouble in the first place."
My brother looked upset to hear me shout at him like that for giving me a compliment. He didn't understand.
***
"Is this a bad time?" I'm sitting in a bar with some coworkers in Arizona after another equipment test."
"Uh, no" I said, hastly making my way out with my phone in hand, "What's up?"
"Well I wanted to apologise. We found a lot when we were teenagers, and I... want to make it better. I blamed you for a lot of things which aren't your fault."
"Oh."
"And... I never really thanked you for everything you did for me when we were really little. You tried really hard, and I appreciate that a whole lot, and I never thanked you."
"Forget it," I said.
"What?" he asked, taking me literally, "but it was really..."
"I mean... don't worry about it. Its what a good big sister should do... keep her brother out of trouble. I'm sorry too that I didn't do better sometimes..."
"Its ok Pika," I could hear the innocent smile through the phone line, "You're still the best."
"Uh, no" I said, hastly making my way out with my phone in hand, "What's up?"
"Well I wanted to apologise. We found a lot when we were teenagers, and I... want to make it better. I blamed you for a lot of things which aren't your fault."
"Oh."
"And... I never really thanked you for everything you did for me when we were really little. You tried really hard, and I appreciate that a whole lot, and I never thanked you."
"Forget it," I said.
"What?" he asked, taking me literally, "but it was really..."
"I mean... don't worry about it. Its what a good big sister should do... keep her brother out of trouble. I'm sorry too that I didn't do better sometimes..."
"Its ok Pika," I could hear the innocent smile through the phone line, "You're still the best."
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