Brotin Tales: Neil

Time once again to enter the mind of Brotin. This is part 2 of the story. Before you get completely confused, go check out part 1 at Otin's. Then come right back to hear how the story ends. Go ahead, I'll be here when you get back.

running my finger along the torn edges where the pages of my journal used to reside i still wonder about brother...

honey, what are you doing?, her voice floats up through the floor.

nothing, i mumble as i slip the journal back into the cardboard box in the corner of the attic, making my way gently down the pull down stairs.

fresh cut flowers glow in the sunlight from the center of the table, the bacon and biscuits fill the air, calling our boys from their rooms.

hey dad, today is the day, jacob's enthusiasm puts a smile on my face.

what day is that?

come on dad, jacob and i will be camping on the ridge tonight, my older son's voice gets deeper every day.

when did we decide that?, my thoughts still weigh on me from my time in the attic.

we have been talking about it for weeks, you can't change your mind now, jacob whines, as his balloon deflating.

honey...my wife's hand finds mine with a gentle squeeze.

ok, just make sure you have plenty of batteries for your flashlight, and your cell phone, and did you pack...

you're the best, dad!, they rush from the table to gather their things, while i wince with reservation.

the rest of the day drags slowly, though i try to keep myself busy. my wife helps coming up with random needs to provide me an excuse to drive into town. as i pass the pull over by the path that leads into the woods, it takes every bit of will power i have not to pull over and check on the boys. i berate myself all the way home, they will be fine.

still, i do not sleep, just stare out the picture window, imagining their faces in the glow of the fire, whispering prayers into the night.

give them a call, my wife relents handing me a cup of coffee and my cell phone as the sun rises above the mountains.

my fingers can not move fast enough across the touch pad...ring...ring...ring...the line opens but i hear no one, snapping twigs or limbs in the background...

they are not here. but i think i know where they are, a heavy voice answers.

who is this? my heart jackhammers in my chest making breathing near impossible.

it's neil, and somehow, I already knew that.