Dead Brother

It was spring and my brother was dead. It happened so quickly, the news travelled so fast that the pain didn’t have time to settle. My pain was like a feather on a windy day, it didn’t settle, it didn’t go away. I was three years his senior, it didn’t seem fair that he should have been taken away so soon, it should have been me that drowned in that icy lake not him. My parent’s must had gone through hell and back that spring while I wrestled with that feather in the sky that didn’t want to come down. I couldn’t understand why my eyes stayed so dry, why my corneas held sand from the desert. I was so close to Dougie, so close that we often had play fights, often rode are bikes all over town and often found hiding places that only we knew about. I felt the pain of his loss but void of any escape; I chose to go back to school as soon as possible, I needed to be with other kids no matter how much they reminded me of my dead brother. It was in school, in one particular class that I noticed something unusual. I was watching David, he was a new pupil that had just moved to Ohio, and everyone seemed to pick on him. He was strange I’ll give them that, but I never understand why people always feel the need to pick on the weird kid in class, just because he’s different. Everyone has to conform to a certain standard of normality; otherwise you will undoubtedly be the target of bullying. David was that target but unlike other bullied kids I knew; he didn’t seem to care, he seemed to live in his own world. His eyes always appeared to be watching something that we couldn’t see; his ears always attentive to everything but the hurtful words catapulted at him. I felt he had the majesty or the dimness to take from the world what he wished, to believe in something only if it promised him peace. 1

I was at the back of the classroom watching him with a forbidden curiosity; he intrigued me, where he repulsed others around him with his smell of unwashed clothes and scruffy greasy hair. I imagined he came from a trailer park community that didn’t care for the wasting of water on washing. No one else was watching David at this particular time, he appeared to be looking out of the window, but on closer observation I saw that he was looking at the window ledge. The window ledge was graced with the usual dried up fly carcasses with the odd bee or wasp in the corner. I could see them pretty well but I wasn’t sure what fascinated David to them, I could only see the back of his head but I could tell he was looking intensely. In the back of my head I could still hear the teacher rambling on about some eighteenth century diplomat, I only listened in case a question was randomly thrown my way. I feared for David as his head appeared to shake a little with growing intensity, I feared he was on the verge of a fit. He didn’t move his eyes from the window ledge at all. While the rest of the class were oblivious to his trembling head, I watched with great anticipation. It happened just as quickly as I had heard the news of my brother’s death. A humming sound echoed around my head, it was only when I saw movement that I could see where the noise was coming from. The bee that was certifiably dead just moments ago had sprung to life in one simple breath, like a new born scream the bee hummed of life where once it had only hummed of death.2

The bee was big, in fact I remember Miss Marples killing it after it disturbed a class just a few days prior. The bee banged against the large plain glass window in a bid for escape, it tried several times more before hovering above the heads of pupils in the class. That’s when the bee was noticed and the classes interruption began, they ran, they swiped their hands about, they done all they could to escape the monstrous bee. Then shortly after only a momentary panic, the bee stopped humming in mid-air and the class watched it plummet to its death. I had seen many strange things as a kid, but I…along with all my other classmates had never seen a bee die in mid-air before. Everyone chuckled at the absurd sight, the mere thought of a bee just keeling over in mid-air, everyone chuckled but me. They had just witnessed a bee die in mid-air, I had just witnessed a bee come to life. I glanced over at David again and noticed that he hadn’t moved he hadn’t even watched the bee flying around the room. I wondered why he didn’t watch the bee; he seemed to have put life into it so why didn’t he watch his miracle? He continued to stare at the window ledge as the lesson got back under way, I was still the only one looking at him and I’m not sure if he sensed my prying eyes. There were still more carcasses left on the window ledge, I wondered if he could bring them back to life as well, I wondered if he was trying to. Suddenly I saw a fly slowly finding its little legs; it looked like it was being controlled by a puppeteer’s strings as it found flight. I was amazed this time as the little doubt I had of the bee drained down the plughole of my mind, he clearly could bring life where death had otherwise made its mark.3

With a shuddering poise I shook from the inside out; I had recently only seen life turn to death both in my brother and in my nightmares. The fly that had just been mysteriously resurrected started to fly around my head, it almost hypnotised me. I would normally have cursed it for its persistent annoyance but this time I watched it with glee, it was a miracle that adorned my eyes, to me it was as big as the resurrection of Christ. The fly landed on my desk, I felt it was looking right at me when…slam, squish, squash, in three unnecessary strikes Miss Marples had killed the fly with a ruler.4

‘Now Timothy, I think you should concentrate on me not on a stupid fly.’ Miss Marples said.5

It didn’t matter to Miss Marples that my brother had recently passed away, it didn’t matter to her that she had just killed a miracle, she was heartless, the most heartless old woman I had ever had the displeasure of knowing. She knew about my recent loss but she didn’t care, she treated everyone like shit regardless of their circumstances, to say I hated her would be to understate. A few chuckles graced the room once more, I wasn’t sure if they were laughing at me or at Miss Marples. From the corner of my eye I could see David looking over at me, when are eyes met he released a smile; it was a consoling smile as if to say ‘I share you’re hatred for Miss Marples.’ After all it was his miracle she so thoughtlessly killed. I knew that David and I would become friends after that, even though he was strange he didn’t seem as strange to me as the other kids in class. They were all so energetic when it came to bullying, when it came to making paper aeroplanes, but when it came to consoling my loss they were useless.6

After school I saw David walking across the car park, he wasn’t heading for the bus like most of the other kids; he was walking home wherever home was. I ran to catch up with him, I wanted to talk to him, others daren’t through fear of being seen as weird, I didn’t care though as being weird was alright with me.7

‘Hey David, wait up for me.’ I yelled.8

He turned his head around to see me running towards him; I think he was surprised that anybody should yell his name, unless of course by a teacher. He waited for me to catch up, he wore an expression that seemed alarmed and yet pleasantly surprised.9

‘So where do you live?’ I asked while catching my breath.10

He looked confused by my interest in him, I think people normally passed by his way without stopping to glance at him never mind talk.11

‘Well I live about three miles away in this trailer park, my parents are trying to make ends meet but they say we’ll have a house one day.’ David was a little flustered and seemingly apologetic for his trailer park home.12

I was annoyed at myself for guessing that he lived in a trailer park, I wished he lived in a posh house but just chose to wear smelly clothes and outright refused to wash his hair.13

‘Oh right, I could walk with you for a bit of the way if you like.’ I said trying not to sound too forceful in my bid for friendship.14

‘Yeah okay if it’s on your way home’ He replied.15

We talked as we walked along the main road that led to my house and eventually to David’s trailer park home. The bus went along that route but I guessed that David’s parent’s couldn’t afford a bus pass for their son, I guess food must have had to of been their priority over a bus pass. One of the school buses shuttled passed us as we were walking along16

‘You stupid suckers.’ Shouted one kid from the top deck as others tried to spit on us.17

I had a bus pass but I would have rather walked home with David any day than get on the bus with those animals, those slobs that were so bad at consoling me.18

‘I heard you lost you’re brother recently, I’m so sorry for your loss.’ Said David with genuine sympathy.19

I thanked him for his sympathy; he was like me, quite mature for his tender age of thirteen. The other kids at school were growing up fast but in the wrong way, they done adult things among their childish bullying, but their growing up was all to do with their bodies and nothing involving their minds. We talked some more after that, David wanted to know what my deceased brother was like, I delighted in telling him even though it brought my pain to the surface, but even so my tears still shied away from me.20

‘So what was that all about in class? I’m sure I saw you bring the bee and the fly back to life.’21

David went shy on me as if his ability was something to be ashamed of, as if his ability was too big to be put into words…in truth it was. He eventually answered me, but I felt he told me in confidence.22

‘Well ever since I was about five I use to stare at dead insects, for some reason they came to life. When I done that in class today it was the first time I risked others seeing my ability. The only thing is every time I stop concentrating on the flow of life the insects die, like the bee did in class today. It hurts too if I do it for too long, or if I concentrate too hard.’23

I was blown away by my image of David as a five year old boy bringing insects back to life; I asked him whether his parents or anyone else knew about his talent, he told me I was the only one. The next question I asked was bold and out of the blue, like a humpback whale splashing in the ocean I knew it was going to make waves.24

‘So does it work on humans as well?’25

I think he was shocked by my question but he knew where things were going.26

‘You mean will it work on your brother.’ He said with great intensity.27

I couldn’t deny it, the thought passed through my hurting brain the minute I saw him bring the hum back to the bee. He was a miracle maker in my eyes.28

‘Well I guess it’s possible, I mean in theory it’s possible.’ He said, trying to steer me in a different direction, but he knew what I wanted, he knew too well.29

David seemed like a miracle brought into my life, Jesus must had put a little of himself in David, I mean he was able to bring back life to insects, so why not put the life back into my poor dead brother. As we walked home on that reasonably hot day, we discussed plans for the miracle to be performed. We planned it for that night; it involved sneaking out of our homes and meeting near the cemetery where my lost brother spent his days and nights. I was to bring a shovel and a torch, and David just needed to bring his ability to renew life.30

I remember that night like it was just yesterday, it was the clearest night I had ever seen before, and the clearest night I have ever seen since. The stars didn’t seem too far away, they felt like mini-moons, as if they were the moons offspring. The air was crisp and clear, the moonlight lit up the things that usually remained dark in daytime, the world was very different that night. I met David just outside the cemetery; he strolled up to me shivering in his crossed arms and rugged clothes. Our anticipation seemed to mix with our fear; we bounced our emotions off of each other like two tennis players in a long rally. I held my dad’s shovel and torch with a solid grip, a grip that seemed to ease the torture of my heart and the excitement of my mind.31

We entered the locked cemetery though a hole in the metal fence where a few metal rods had been removed, that was when it really hit me on what I was about to do. I was about to dig up my dead brother, I was about to disturb the grace of his grave, I was about to be a villain in the eyes of my parents. First we had to find his grave under the subtle moonlight, the names all looked the same, they all rang of death, of lives passed on. As we walked through the graveyard, like shoppers in a mall looking for that particular gift, I could sense the spirits of the night. They hung around lost as were we, some trees looked like headstones, and some headstones looked like trees. The torch helped a little but there was a whole lot of night to light up and the torch could only manage a few circles of light at a time. It had only been a week since I attended my brother’s funeral, but that was in daylight, now I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing, that was until I heard a loud whisper from behind a blank headstone.32

‘He’s here Tim…Douglas Matthews right?’ David whispered33

I scuffled over to face the headstone he was looking at; there it was, engraved in marble the name of my brother.34

          Douglas Matthews35

       Age 1036

       Died At Ten Years Of Age 37

  In A Swimming Accident38

He Had A Mum, Dad And 39

Brother That Loved Him Dearly40

      He Will Be Dearly Missed And 41

       Always Fondly Remembered42

 May He Rest In Peace43

        198944

To see his headstone under the moonlight brought a chill to my eyes and a shudder to my chest.45

‘Are you sure you still want to go through with this?’ Whispered David.46

I wasn’t sure but I knew that if I didn’t go through with it regret would have hit me at some time in my life, you have to cease the moment, you have to take chances, and you have to give in to life’s miracles.47

‘Yes I’m sure; I can’t turn my back to his grave now I’m here.’48

I started to dig while David watched; I dug faster in my mind than I ever could in reality. I wanted it to be over quickly, every fall of the shovel felt like a dagger through my brother’s heart, every rise of the shovel felt like an awakening of his sleep. Maybe some things just are and I was wrong to change them, maybe that night I went against God’s very own wishes, maybe my brother couldn’t awake from his sleep. My head was full of thoughts but the love I felt for my brother pushed me on, I done it for the love of my brother and I didn’t think God could ever have seen that as being wrong. It took me ages to reach my brother’s coffin, that night felt like a hundred nights all jumbled into one. David offered to help a few times but I refused, I wanted him to save his energy for the miracle he would perform. I will always remember that clunking sound when my dad’s shovel finally hit my brother’s coffin; it seemed to wake the night owls from their sleep. I cleared the damp soil from the surface of the shiny white coffin, I wasn’t sure how decomposed he was going to be, I wasn’t sure if he was going to smell of death.49

David helped me with the lid of the coffin; it felt so heavy to my aching hands and arms, my energy level had fallen and I wished I had brought something to eat even though I didn’t feel like eating. We managed to take the lid right off and place it next to the grave, I avoided looking at Dougie at first, it was something that I couldn’t do lightly. When I finally mustered up enough courage I looked, there was Dougie looking peaceful in his sleep. He looked no different than when I had seen him sleeping at home, he looked white but he still looked like Dougie. He smelt of death though, mixed with a fragrance I assumed they added to the coffin, it smelt like roses growing out of shit. To see Dougie brought me close to tears but that feather still floated in the air, that sand still clogged the corners of my eyes.50

David knelt down towards Dougie without any prompts; he placed a hand on Dougie’s forehead and one on his heart. He looked up into the sky, the sky that seemed crisper than any I had ever seen, I watched David pray for a miracle to be passed through his hands. I just stood by and watched. I also remember looking up into the sky, I wondered where heaven was and if it could be seen in that delicious night sky. David started to shake as if he was holding a pneumatic drill, Dougie was being shaken so hard that for a moment I thought the shaking alone might have awoke him from his sleep. My heart felt like a giant butterfly in my chest and my stomach felt like a roasting joint being turned above a hot fire. I looked into David’s eyes, they were blood shot and I swear I saw his forehead start to bubble.51

I turned away from David and tried to concentrate on my dead brother. In a simultaneous action, my brother opened his eyes to the world while extracting a sudden gasp of air. David let go of him and lay beside the grave not saying a word, I assumed he was focussing on keeping the life in Dougie’s body. At first Dougie’s eyes pointed straight up into the sky, then very slowly they glanced over towards me, we stared into each others eyes and the intensity I felt blew me away. Dougie let out a gentle smile but he seemed very weak, I fell to my knees and reached for his hand, it was still very cold. I rubbed it to try and warm it up, it was no good, I could see that Dougie wanted to say something but he just didn’t have the energy. I placed a finger across his cold blue lips telling him to be quiet.52

‘I love you Dougie, I never got a chance to say it before you died, I will always remember those great times we had together. My love for you will never perish, my love for you will never die, and I will always hold memories of you closest to my heart.’53

Dougie looked calm but weak, I think he knew exactly what was going on, he knew of his death, of his legacy. He also seemed older and wiser; he seemed as wise as an angel, just with his looks and manners alone, and eventually he found enough energy to speak.54

‘I’ll miss you brother, but remember I’ll always be with you in some way.’ Dougie whispered.55

I was comforted to hear his voice again; just before he departed the world for the second and final time he said ‘You can cry now brother.’ As his eyes closed my eyes started to water, I imagined there must have been a couple of icebergs in the corner of my eyes and that it took bringing my brother back to life just for them to melt.56

I had never cried as much as I did that night, there was times when I banged my head as a kid – or fell off my new bike on Christmas. None of those times made me cry a tenth of what I did that night, I could have filled a swimming pool – or put out fires with those tears, they were tears of pity for me and for my brother. No one ever found out that the grave had been opened, through my tears I covered Dougie back up, every spade full of soil dug the pain a little deeper down, so far I could hardly feel the pain only the sorrow. That night David consoled me, to me he was Jesus – he had to have been to bring a human back to life like he did. We didn’t talk on our way back from the cemetery, neither of us had the strength or the will; it was hard enough just walking home and David had an extra mile to walk than me.57

That night allowed me to say goodbye to my brother, and my life was blessed with a new friend, a friendship made under the strangest of circumstances. Fourteen years on I’m still friends with David, together we both run an agency looking into the paranormal, we do everything from communicating with past spirits to helping families say goodbye to their loved ones. That night I caught my feather of pain, I also captured a desire for the unknown. Shortly after that night David lost most of his ability to bring things back from the dead, I don’t know if he blew a chip in his head when he brought back Dougie, or if he just forgot how – maybe God took it away as a punishment. All I know is that there are miracles out there happening all the time, I could ask why my brother was taken away from his family? I could ask, but who am I really talking to and what are the chances of a reply. I think a miracle should be left to flourish on its own merits, there are bad things out there happening all the time, but there are miracles happening out there all the time too, and I just pray you’re chosen to witness a miracle as big as the one that was granted me.58

         The End59

Paul Dawson (Darkimagination)60