Act Forty-One
Baylee Wright
Curling up on Brenden’s bottom bunk, I cry silently into his dinosaur Pillow Pet. I just listened to the most excruciating sobs from Katya and everything Timo said to Luka as he left.
I couldn’t stay in my bedroom any longer.
Brenden sits up against the headboard, typing on his laptop. “Dr. Spiro is only available Monday at noon. Will you be okay until then?”
When I don’t respond, he shakes my shoulder hard until I attempt to elbow him. It’s feeble and weak.
“Weak,” he actually tells me.
“You’re weak,” I say softly and turn my head, looking over at my brother. The computer screen illuminates his caring face in the shadowy bedroom. “I can’t go at noon.”
“Yes you can,” he says.
“I have practice.” I’m about to turn back into the pillow, but Brenden braces me up, his hand on my shoulder. I rub some of the involuntary tears, my cheeks wet.
“AE will give you an hour off to see your doctor. You should be going more anyway. I haven’t seen you this depressed since…” Knowingness suddenly bathes his features, and his head tilts back. “Something happened with Luka? Didn’t it?”
He seems more sympathetic and concerned than spiteful towards Luka. My lips part, wanting to be honest. Wanting to be free from every deceitful thing I’ve told my brother. I’m scared.
So, so scared.
I swallow and say, “I can just feel low for no reason.”
“Yeah, but events can also push you into a deeper depression.” He shuts his laptop and switches on a reading light attached to wooden slats above us. He likes dinosaurs, history museums, all languages, and literature—that’s my brother. I’ll claim him every day.
He’s mine.
And he deserves the truth. He deserved it five years ago.
Brenden grabs a box and starts covering me in tissues. “Thanks for washing Rexy-Rex. He needed a bath.”
I sniff his dinosaur pillow. “God, he smells bad.”
“Like your sorrow.”
I muster the strength to flip him off.
Brenden smiles.
I want to smile back. On another day, I would. I sit up partially and fold a few tissues, blowing my nose. Besides the occasional breathy snore, Zhen doesn’t make much of a peep on the top bunk.
I can feel my brother thinking hard.
With a breath, I say, “I don’t want you to stop prying.” I want Brenden to dig the truth out of me and take the heaviness away.
“What happened?” he asks outright. “You know I won’t judge or…I couldn’t be mad at you. I wouldn’t. I just want to know so I can help you.”
I shrug tensely, and I sigh a pained breath before I let it all out. I mean every last thing that I’m contractually not supposed to say. From five years ago. From the past months. Past week.
I don’t care about the no minors policy anymore. Everything seems pointless, and I just need someone to tell me what to do. What to feel.
Brenden only interjects to encourage. “Keep going,” he says nicely. “You can tell me. I’m not mad.” I’m not mad, he ensures me the entire time. Even when I confess about impersonating Luka in text.
I’m not mad.
It must be an hour when I finish, and I sob into his Pillow Pet again, hugging it tight. Brenden rubs my back in a circular motion, and he wipes a fallen tear quickly so I don’t see.
I saw, obviously.
“I’ve been afraid to tell you,” I reiterate for the millionth time.
“I would be too,” he says. “I don’t know if I would’ve ever…I don’t think I could’ve crossed AE.” Then again, he wouldn’t have gotten in trouble in the first place.
Knees tucked to my chest, I rest my cheek on the pillow and look at Brenden, my waterworks slowing. He keeps his warm palm on my back.
“I’m sorry for lying,” I whisper, “and for all the times I made your life harder.”
Brenden shakes his head like I don’t need to apologize for the twentieth time. “I love you, Bay. If I lost you with Mom and Dad…” He tries to sniff his tears away, and he wipes the corners of his eyes with this thumb. “You’re my heart.”
“Literally.” I eye his tattoo.
His lips curve high.
“I love you too,” I breathe, and the talk of love draws questions in his gaze.
“I didn’t know how much Luka meant to you, you know?”
I nod once. I couldn’t ever tell Brenden.
“You’ve never talked about him like you just did. Never. I mean, the way you just described the guy and all the time you’ve spent with him…it kind of reminded me of Dad’s novel.”
My eyes widen, surprised that he brought up Dad’s books first. “Which one?”
“Bones Against Bones.”
I know the quote before he says it aloud, and I shut my eyes and listen and feel the incoming words.
And Brenden recites, “I have lived partially. Halfly. Incompletely. To be whole, I did not know until my bones thundered and bellowed for more.”
More, I mouth the word.
Brenden hugs me to his side, and I lean my head on his shoulder. He’s the one who says, “Regardless of Luka, there’s hope in the future, Bay. I know it might be hard to see or feel right now, but it exists. You have to believe in it. Not a lot. Just a glimmer. Hold onto it.” He glances down at me. “You holding?”
I take a stronger breath. “Yeah. I am.”