In this land of opportunity…
I will make it big…with or without him…
Long time, no see…hasn’t it, Flim?
Good ol’ brother of mine…
This isn’t anything but family business…family business…
…
Gods, I’m so thirsty…so damn thirsty…
The light turned on. The thumping began.
The first thing Flim heard was the sound of his own raspy breaths, accompanied by an incessant, high-pitched beeping. An ache still lingered in his chest, but the pain had died down, much like the thumping of his heart. He kept his eyes shut, trying to remember those last few moments before he collapsed. But it was all fuzzy, a fragmented piece of memory that he struggled to piece together.
Flim opened his eyes into slits, seeing that he was situated in a dark room, underneath some unfamiliar blue sheets. He shifted his head to the right towards a window, where it was still dark and rainy. Then he turned his head to the left, where a lone figure sat beside the bed, his head resting on his hooves.
Suddenly the figure glanced up. When he saw his brother awake, Flam’s eyes widened, and he let out a sigh of relief. “Flim? Oh thank goodness,” he muttered softly, rubbing his tired face with his foreleg.
Flim tried to respond, only to find his mouth wired shut, and a bandage wrapped tightly around his head. All he could do was grunt and shoot a resentful glare. His brother half-grinned, despite the sadness perpetuating from his green eyes. “I take it you’re probably upset,” Flam said. “I know I’d be if I couldn’t talk. You hit the table hard, really hard. Broke your jaw, and opened up a huge gash. Doc said thirteen stiches.”
He waited for an answer, out of habit more than anything. It was futile, of course, as Flim simply closed his eyes and rested his head on the pillow. He attempted to move his limbs, but they felt heavy and almost detached, as though his brain was still establishing a connection with the rest of his body.
“You know, brother, I’ve always feared this is how we’d wind up together.” Flam propped himself on the side of the bed. “Only you’d smell like cider and I’d be bawling my eyes out. Only one of those is true, you know. I’ll let you guess which one.” Flim opened his eyes, noticing the crooked trails of matted fur going down his sibling’s cheeks.
“You’ve always had a fiery temper, brother. You were always insanely competitive. I…I suppose it’s good one of us was. Maybe that’s why we were such a good team.” The faintest hint of a smile tickled the corners of Flam’s mouth. He glanced to the side, as if the remnants of the past would come flying across the room. But after a while of useless pondering, he sighed, adding, “…You know, before everything went to hell.”
Flam noticed his brother’s breathing quicken and his eyebrows arch menacingly. The beeping on the monitor sped up. Flim looked like he wanted to scream, but his jaw remained locked in place by the bandages and wires, and his weak body remained motionless.
Flam quickly placed a hoof on his brother’s shoulder, knowing he couldn’t shrug it away. “Brother, please...you can’t be so angry all the time. Your heart can’t take it. The doctor said you’ll be fine, but you’ll have to take medication to keep your blood pressure down. And no strenuous exercise or outbursts like that again.” Pausing, he whispered, “He…he said you were lucky. Said you had years of strain on your heart. It could’ve given out anytime.”
He let out a long sigh, followed by a soft chuckle. Wiping his nose on his sleeve, he continued, “It’s…crazy, Flim. I don’t know about you…but when the doctor told me that…it felt like my heart was gonna explode or something. I-isn’t that crazy? I think it’s crazy.”
Another empty silence, only pierced by a couple beeps on the monitor. Flim’s eyes were turned away from his sibling, focusing on a black mark—maybe a fly, or some dirt— on the window. Behind him, the voice continued, “I'm sorry you can’t respond. You probably have a lot to say…you always do. Well this time, so do I. I’ve had a couple of years to think about this stuff, actually. It’s just…too bad it took this to make it happen. I know you probably don’t think so, but I never stopped caring for you, brother. If you thought I never thought about you, well you’re wrong. Not a day went by when I didn’t wonder where you were. But you had disappeared off the face of the earth, and the only things I heard about you were from snippets in newspapers.”
Same goes for you, Flim thought, only able to roll his eyes.
“When I got your letter…I didn’t know what to feel. I guess I looked forward to seeing you, and dreaded it at the same time. I…I wanted it to be like old times, you understand? I wanted to act like brothers again. And for a little bit, at dinner, I was having fun. Real, bona-fide fun. I guess among all the jazz and the dancing and the wine, I thought I saw a chance. I thought we’d changed.”
Flam looked down and, for a split second, locked onto a pair soft eyes staring up at him. But they quickly flickered away, hardening once again. Drawing in a deeper breath, he continued, “Who…who are we, Flim? All we’ve been doing is trying to run away. But no matter how far we try to go, or how much we try to pry ourselves apart, we always end up right here, in the same spot. The two of us…stuck together. Maybe…maybe that really is our fate."
Fate? Don't get me started on fate...gods, that beeping...that incessant beeping! And that mark, what is that? Flim shifted ever so slightly in his bed.
“Before I came here, I told myself I wouldn’t help you. No matter what you said, I wasn’t going to give you anything. I tried to distance myself from you. But now I realize…that’s impossible. I’m not going to give you a share of my money. I can’t hand you something you haven’t earned. But I can give you a job. Nothing big; you know that. But it will be something. I assure you this is the best way, Flim. You’ll get some money to support yourself, I’ll make sure of it. But not without some hard work, you understand? Please…please give me a sign.”
He glanced down, hoping to find those eyes staring back at him once again. But all he received was a bandaged cheek. Casting a frustrated sigh, Flam kneeled down next to the bed, clutching his brother’s limp hoof. Holding it to his forehead as though it might slip away, he whispered, “I don’t want to leave you like this. I…I can’t. I’ve failed to help you before, and I can’t let myself do that again. You are my brother, and I’ve got to take care of you.” He planted a kiss on the foreleg, holding back the tears welling up in his eyes. “I-I'm so, so sorry, Flim. I just want both of us to be fine.”
The brother kneeled silently by the bed, the clock ticking away the slow seconds. The endless drone of the storm continued, as did the beeping. There was no sign of stopping.
Suddenly, a muffled sound began to grow from Flim’s throat, the short wheeze of a labored breath. Flam looked up, eyes wide. Flim’s head was turned away; his eyes kept staring at the mark on the window.
“Go……….awayyy……Flam...”
The words hung in the air for a moment, before crashing down right atop Flam’s scruffy mane. Three words, three seconds—opening up the floodgates holding back years of worry and guilt. He slowly stood up, letting out a quivering breath. Standing there, watching over the blanketed figure that he knew would never respond, he let the tears fall onto the tiled floor. “I’ll…I’ll always have a spot open for you,” Flam said feebly. “You…you know how to contact me, okay?”
Levitating a cap to his head, the brother made his way toward the door. He stopped halfway, casting a pale shadow which engulfed his brother. Turning his head, he whispered, “I love you, Flim. Someday I hope you’ll believe me.”
The sound of clopping hooves echoed in the hallway, fading away until all was silent except for the rain. Flim found himself staring at those droplets on his window, jaggedly travelling along the glass. The unknown black mark was still there, a still shape in the constantly moving torrent. A trembling hoof slid out from under the covers, trying to reach for the windowsill, for the tiny black smudge. But like the countless raindrops fighting the relentless pull of gravity, it fell far short of the edge.