Halloween with my Brother

One Halloween, when I was a lil tike, I pulled the “little brother card” and guilted my older brother into taking me out with him and his friends.  He was not happy, but of course, mom and dad got my back and made him take me out. 

The night was cold and rainy.

It did not take long for me to start to get uncomfortable.  My brother and his buddies kept darting back and forth from the different houses to the sidewalk, and I quickly lost interest; I was getting really cold.  This went on for a while, my bro and his clan leaving me on the sidewalk, and then coming back briefly only to run off again.  I began to get scared, and I got even more worried because, being Halloween and all, I couldn’t really tell which one my brother was.  They were all dressed in costumes, some of them similar, and I’d lost track of which ghost or goblin was my older brother. 

I felt alone.

Despite the confusion, however, I could not help but feel a certain sense of calm and comfort by the way one of these costumed ghouls seemed to get right beside me during their brief stints on the sidewalk.  I couldn’t be sure, but I remember looking up at his horrifying rubber mask and thinking, “Are…are you my brother?”   He would look down at me slowly, without saying a thing.  I recognize now that it was probably that delicate balance of coolness among his buddies that kept him from picking me up and consoling me at that moment, but I did feel something in his presence.  Though I couldn’t recognize a thing about him, my heart warmed and my breathing slowed- just before he ran off again. 

That was my brother, and I suddenly wasn’t as cold.