Operation Brother
Operation BrotherPaper 1: Operation Brother
I had just pulled into my driveway on an ordinary Saturday night after finishing my shift at the local drug store photo lab. Every weekend after work I would report in at home and tell my parents the ups and downs of my day, which customers angered me, and why I couldn’t stand my boss. Something was different this night. It wasn’t the cool breeze through the warm summer evening’s air, or even the loud chirping of the cricket calling his mate. All of these sounds where typical of the humid summer evenings in Florida. The lack of a distinct sound, a voice, is what confused the proceedings of this night. The lack of my sixteen-year-old brother’s nagging and pestering was actually quite relaxing.
I took full advantage of this solitude in my room, where night after night, the two of us argued over music stations, television shows, and control over the remote control. If it was a topic you could think of, Charlie and I fought over it. The slight ringing in my ear due to the silence that engulfed me was ever so delightful. I casually turned on my favorite CD and changed out of my uniform into clubbing clothes. As I walked out the door, after informing the folks of my night’s activities, I gave no thought to the whereabouts of that which caused my insanity.
I then picked up my friend Micha who had a brother of his own. Micha and his brother had a relationship that was foreign to me. As I walked into their house, the two of them where laughing and playing a game on the computer. “Is this normal?” I asked myself. Surely these
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two siblings were unique. This was not the only occurrence of such behavior that I have observed from them. No two individuals could have had a stronger bond, period.
The drive into the city was fairly quiet when compared to normal outings. For some reason I could not stop thinking about what it would be like to enjoy being with Charlie.
“Micha, how do you do it? How do you keep from ripping your brother’s head off? Don’t the two of you ever fight?” I asked.
Micha simply giggled and said, “ We fight all of the time. Normally it is just about stupid crap like who has to do dishes. I guess we just do it, you know, get along. I mean there is no specific process or art.”
I proceeded to argue, “Man, I’m serious. Charlie and I fight all of the time. We get serious too. Sometimes I am surprised we don’t jump right into a fistfight.”
“Dude, you just need to relax. Next time you approach him, don’t mention any of that crap that gets you fighting....
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