-He chuckles to himself.-
It was a pleasant morning. It was warm and the sun was shining through the open sunroof of my 1999 Mercury Cougar. A cool breeze gently mussed the leaves of the trees along the edges of the motorway into the airport. I pulled up to the terminal and popped the trunk so that my brother could hop out and remove his things from it. The plan was for him to head inside and secure three comfortable seats while I parked the car. The plan was successful. Kind of. We sat and waited on a hard bench for a couple hours. We chatted a little. We caught concerned looks from passers-by. Some even stopped to quickly give their two cents worth to my brother. He feigned modesty, when in all actuality he could have cared less. And then we followed him to a roped off section leading into the first checkpoint. The queue was empty. He snaked his way along the-what seemed to be at the time- ridiculous path. Several people followed behind him. Nobody wants to be first.
-He waves it off casually, as if the details are not important enough to mention. He slowly sighs, taking a minute to collect his thoughts before continuing. Slowly, he begins writing again.-
I waved as my brother turned and walked toward the airport checkpoint. We couldn’t follow him any further. My heart sunk into my stomach, and my face quickly grew hot- I’m sure I was red as a tomato. My sister stood next to me, her hand slowly creeping around the hand I had left so carelessly hanging by my side. I was focused on other things; I had completely forgotten that my hand even existed until she took hold of it. Our fingers meshed together into a fleshy knot hanging between us, then she tightened her grip reassuringly. She had always known how to comfort me so well. I took it for granted. The terminal was fairly empty that day. I could track his progress by picking his short, red hair and unusual attire out of the small crowd. I watched though the bulletproof glass as he unlaced his boots and placed them in a large, yellow tub next to his new, desert-camouflaged backpack on the conveyor belt to be sent through the scanning machine. He spoke to the guard, briefly. I could tell he was displeased with the smaller man by the way his eyebrow twitched when he spoke. The guard either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t care. Then, my brother stepped through the metal detector. The next security guard waved him on. After this, I couldn’t see much anymore, as his head had disappeared behind the small crowd for a minute. It felt like an hour. When he resurfaced, I let out the breath I had been holding. I was worried he had left without giving us a final, final goodbye. Thankfully, he had only bent down to pull his boots back on and re-lace them. He slipped his backpack on and continued forward.
He didn’t look back for a while. He continued through the process without giving us a second thought, it appeared. It was typical of him. He was a military man, after all. He was practically programmed to never look back. To never let his past get in his way. He headed to the left. He looked so small. So far away. And that’s when he turned to face us. I could hardly see his toothy grin as he raised his hand to wave at us one last time. My vision blurred, everything and all of the colors around me seemed to run together. I blinked, trying to clear my eyes. The tears tumbled down my cheek. I felt another reassuring squeeze from my sister. And then my brother disappeared behind a barricade.
I was 20 at the time. What an embarrassment I must’ve been to my younger sister. She always seemed to hold together through hard times much better than I did. I don’t remember her crying at all that day. I wish she had’ve. I wish I could have held her head against my chest and wept into her soft, golden hair right there in that terminal. I wish we could have cried together, not caring who saw us. I wish I could remember the good times we spent together as clearly as I remember the bad ones.
We stood hand in hand for a while, unmoving. Just watching as people slowly filed into the queue and went through the same process our brother had just gone through. My sister finally tugged gently at my cold, numb hand and tenderly whispered, “Let’s go.” I nodded as if I were in a trance. My feet and legs worked together to pull the rest of me through the front door of the terminal, my sister following along beside me. It wasn’t until we had finally made it back to my car on the far end of the sun-soaked parking lot that we cut the physical tie between us and unlinked hands.
We were completely silent the entire drive home. It rained that evening, which surprised me.
All of the months and years between that day and his funeral have run together in my mind.
-He drops his pen on the table and leans back in his seat.-
Backup Sections »
Half-Life 2 Roleplay »
