A Brother's Oath

by

Anne Slease

A brother’s promise should mean something.

Contents
It All Started with the Socks A Day at the Improv
Giants in the Sky Spectator
He Heard a Snap Yellow
Oscar the Grouch, Supersized Crazy Eights
Park Place Memory Lane
Left with Nothing First Impressions
Remote Control My Favorite Things
Shiner The Dump
Red Hot Snowmageddon
The Joker Opposite Day
From Soup to Nuts You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown
Drama Kings First Light
Guess Who Served
Worth the Wait Figure Eights
Sights Unseen Ripples
Quite Possibly Great Expectations Luau for Three
Transformer Darkest Night
Sucker Punched Stone-Hearted
Ornament The Edge
Rebound Epilogue: Sunshine
Some Heated Competition Be That Friend: Mental Health Resources for
Hakuna Matata You or Someone You Love

© 2016 Anne K. Slease

 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/1

Chapter One
It All Started with the Socks

“GET OFF ME, YOU STUPID PRICK!” I yelled.

Inside my head, not out loud. I’m not an idiot.

Instead, I simply sputtered, “I just…wanted…my socks back,” twisting my face away

from the nauseating stench of bologna, Mountain Dew, and un-brushed teeth invading my

personal space. Cole’s mammoth fists locked onto my skinny wrists, his enormous knee pressing

so hard into my chest I could feel my lungs slowly deflating like a punctured balloon.

He’d pinned me down again, this time on his bedroom floor. I’d learned fighting back

wouldn’t help. Neither would calling for Mom. No, over the last fifteen years, I’d learned my

older brother had his own agenda, and the rest of us were just the backstage crew for his one-

man show: Cole Truman, Total Asshole.

“Dylan? Are you up? Your bus will be here in twenty minutes!” Mom yelled.

“Yeah, Dylan, get up! Your bus will be here in twenty minutes,” Cole echoed in a crappy

Mom imitation. “And stay the hell out of my room, dickhead!”

Gasping for air, I peeled myself up off Cole’s floor, successfully dodging multiple

landmines of dirty laundry but stumbling over his massive Air Jordans as I scrambled out of his

room. Thankful to have escaped with my life, I leaned against my locked bedroom door with the

familiar sound of Cole’s laughter taunting me.

 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/2

Still in my boxers and a t-shirt, unsuccessful in my latest sock retrieval mission, I

scavenged through the clothes on my closet floor. Grabbing two mismatched socks, and the best

shirt-pants combination available, then sniffing for possible B.O., I raced to the bathroom. The

bathroom that I shared with my brother.

I'm not a germaphobe. I don't fear water fountains at school. I'm not afraid of touching

doorknobs in strange places. Pink eye doesn't even make me squirm, but sometimes I feared our

bathroom. Between cleanings, that place was truly disgusting. Cole didn't spit in the sink,

preferring to spray the mirror or countertop. His aim wasn't the greatest; sometimes he didn't

even lift up the seat. And Cole usually didn't flush. Mom gave up trying to keep our bathroom

clean about a year ago, saying it was our job now. Since Cole didn't think any household chores

were his responsibility, for the sake of my own survival, I kept the bathroom as clean as I could

myself.

I showered and made it downstairs with six minutes to spare. Cole hunched over his bowl

of Captain Crunch, slurping crudely. A rap beat pulsed through the ear buds he wore— mine—

and his stocking-capped head bobbed left to right robotically. Just a wisp of dark blond hair

escaped out of his lime green cap, covering his left eye. Under the table, one knee bounced

rhythmically while his other lanky leg stretched straight out leaving me little room to sit. And, in

classic Cole form, he ignored me completely, as if, only moments before, he hadn’t just defended

his theft of my socks by bolting me to the floor nearly crushing me to death.

“Morning,” I sidled up beside Mom at the kitchen counter and surveyed the bagel

selection.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said as she sopped up the steady flow of brown liquid seeping from

the coffee maker. She never could get that thing to work right.
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“Mom, I need you to pick me up at five o'clock today. I have that thing after school,

remember?” I snagged a cinnamon raisin bagel and popped it into the toaster.

“Oh, right… that thing…” Though she tried to hide her confusion with a smile, it was

obvious Mom had forgotten all about my huge audition.

“You don’t remember what ‘that thing’ is, do you?” I’d told her about it three time

already. If this had been one of Cole’s basketball games, Mom would have remembered. She had

his sports schedules burned onto her brain.

“Of course, I remember!” she insisted, as another soppy wad of paper towel browned in

her hand. “You have a thing after school today.”

“It’s my audition, Mom, and it’s a big one.”

“Right, yes, your big audition. Sorry, I completely forgot. It’s just that I can’t get this

coffee maker—,” she chuckled to herself as she flipped the switch on Mr. Coffee once more.

“Anyway, don’t worry, Dylan. I'll be there at five o'clock on the dot.”

“Thank you.” With angry strokes, I smeared cream cheese onto my bagel and glanced

over at Cole. He still slurped his cereal, completely oblivious.

“No problem,” Mom said, cradling another handful of coffee-drenched paper towels and

hustling them toward the trashcan. “But this,” she raised up the soggy wad, “this may be a

problem. I waste more paper towels this way.”

“Why don’t you just get another coffee maker if that one sucks so bad?”

“Because there’s nothing wrong with this one. It’s my fault—operator error—but I’m not

giving up. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Whatever,” I shrugged, redirecting my focus back to my audition. Since I was a

freshman, I didn’t know what to expect. It was easy to land a part in my middle school plays,

especially since I was one of the only boys who tried out. I never really felt nervous at all. But
 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/4

this was high school; there’d be tons of other guys just as good as me, maybe better, so this time

I was definitely nervous.

“You okay, sweetie?” Mom asked, sipping from her Basketball Mom mug.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, hoisting my book bag onto my shoulders. It was no use trying to

explain how I really felt. Not only did Mom forget my big audition was today, she had no clue

how much it stressed me out. But that’s because she didn’t understand theatre at all. Neither did

Dad or Cole. They all only spoke one language: Sports.

I grabbed my jacket and bagel and headed toward the door. Cole never even looked up. It

was as if, at least to him, I didn’t exist.

***

My bus stop wasn't far from my house, only around the block. My best friend Tyler was

already there shoveling Pop Tarts in his mouth.

“Hey,” he mumbled and nodded simultaneously.

“Hey,” I replied as I bit into my bagel.

Justin Delaney, brainiac, shuffled across the street with an open book in his hand. Behind

him was a girl I'd never seen before. I know, because I would’ve noticed that girl.

Her hair was the color of the sun right before sunset, blonde with a little red. It was pulled

back in a messy ponytail, a few strays hanging loose around her face. She tilted her head,

sweeping some strands out of her eyes and tucking them back behind her ear as she moved

closer. Her pace quickened as she glanced down at her phone, her mouth forming a slight pout

and her eyes glared intensely, like an H&M model late for a photo shoot. Her light blue hoodie

gaped open, revealing a well-worn concert t-shirt of a band I’d never heard of, and peeking out

between the ankles of her skinny jeans and black Converse sneakers were neon pink socks.

Suddenly, I wasn't hungry anymore. I shoved the rest of my bagel into my backpack and
 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/5

zipped it up tight.

“Who's that?” Tyler gawked.

“No idea,” I muttered before she was within earshot.

Justin arrived at the bus stop first. He dropped his overstuffed backpack on the ground

and sat squarely on top of it like he did every morning, never taking his eyes off his book. The

mystery girl reached our corner and half-smiled at us. I think I smiled back at her, but I’m not

completely sure since before I could think straight, the bus brakes screeched to a stop, and the

giant door swung open.

It was Bill. Perpetually in need of a shave and a haircut, and reeking of cigarettes and cat

pee, our bus driver always looked like he was one day away from death.

Mystery Girl fell in line behind us as we boarded the bus.

“Morning, Bill,” I mumbled, holding my breath to avoid getting a whiff of his noxious

fumes.

“Morning,” he grumbled, slurping from his grimy, plastic travel mug.

Ours was the first stop so the bus was vacant. Tyler and I trudged to our usual seats—

the last two in back—while Justin slipped into his favorite spot behind Bill.

Mystery Girl stopped about halfway down the aisle and threw her book bag onto a seat.

Before sitting, she tried to open the window, but it was stuck. As the bus pulled away from our

stop, she struggled with the window clips, her mouth pursed with concentration. I wanted to help

her, but before I could get enough guts, the window clips released and the pane sailed down into

the metal frame with a crash. Startled by the sudden noise, Justin spun his head around and Bill

glanced up into his giant mirror. Mystery girl just shrugged and giggled to herself, as she slid

onto her seat.

“So seriously, who is that?” Tyler whisper-yelled across the aisle.

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“I have no idea,” I mouthed back shrugging my shoulders.

“Well, I'd like to find out.”

“Keep dreaming,” I said. We both knew she was out of our league. Guys in musical

theatre never attract girls that hot. We’re lucky if we attract girls at all.

“Yeah, yeah...so are you nervous about today?” Thankfully, Tyler changed the subject. I

didn't want to spend our entire bus ride staring at an unattainable goddess. It was too depressing.

I had to focus on the day ahead and my audition.

“Yeah, a little,” I admitted.

“Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about. I'm sure you'll be bloody brilliant,”

he said in his worst British accent, and he chucked the last of his Pop Tart at my head. That's how

I knew Tyler meant what he said. He sacrificed the last bite of his brown sugar breakfast tart to

bean me.

“Yeah, well, I hope so,” I mumbled as I sank down in my seat, imagining the competition

I was up against and hoping I wouldn’t make a complete ass out of myself at my first high school

audition.
 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/7

Chapter Two
Giants in the Sky

When I was younger, my parents signed me up for all the same sports as Cole—

swimming, basketball, baseball, soccer— I stunk at all of them. Swimming wasn’t a total failure.

I refused to put my face in the water, which eliminated three out of four of the strokes, but I

could make it to the end of the pool doing backstroke without crying my head off, so I guess it

wasn’t a total fail. Baseball and basketball were both disasters. Besides the participation trophies

everybody gets, I only earned two other things from those two sports: a black eye from a pitifully

missed catch and a sore butt from all the time I spent riding the bench.

Of all the sports I was forced to try, I liked soccer best. The giant Velcro goalie gloves

and colorful long-sleeved jersey were awesome, definitely the best costume on the field. Mom

always said she wished she’d known back then that I was an actor instead of an athlete. She

could’ve saved a fortune on equipment and league fees.

My first audition happened over the phone. I was nine. A director from the local

children's theater called our house and spoke to my mom. She needed to quickly re-cast a boy for

her production. The kid she’d originally cast dropped out five days before the opening show. My

school music teacher had recommended me and given her our phone number. With her hand

covering the phone, Mom explained the situation and asked if I was interested in trying out. I

said, “sure” and Mom handed me the phone. After my riveting rendition of “Happy Birthday,”
 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/8

the director offered me the part on the spot. The play was “Heidi.” It wasn’t a big part. I wore

green lederhosen, held a live goat, and yodeled a lot, but I loved every minute of it: the lights, the

audience, the applause. No question about it, the stage was for me. I’d found something of my

very own. Something Cole didn't do.

“Dylan, Dylan Truman.” Still smiling at the memory of holding that live goat, I almost

didn’t hear the director call my name. It was my turn to audition.

I stood up, took a deep breath, and made my way to the auditorium stage. My palms were

sweaty, and I was feeling a little queasy as I handed my music to the pianist. Stepping out to

center stage, I quieted the chaos in my mind and forced a convincing smile across my face. Tyler

crouched low in his seat grinning and waving me two big thumbs-up. That helped. Then the

piano introduction began, and by the time my cue came to start singing, all the nervousness had

vanished. I became Jack coming down from the Beanstalk.

There are giants in the sky. There are big tall terrible giants in the sky...

At auditions, directors usually cut you off after they've heard part of the song, but this

time they didn't yell, “cut.” They just let me sing all the way to the end. Good thing I knew all

the words.

As soon as the music stopped, Mrs. Gunther, the director, called out, “Dylan? What grade

are you in? Are you a transfer student?”

“No, ma'am. I'm a freshman,” I said, grinning broadly, this time for real. I thanked them

and grabbed my music book from the pianist. High-fiving Tyler as I returned to my seat,

electricity lit me up from the inside out. I’d nailed it.

Unfortunately, my confidence had completely deflated by the time Mom showed up to

get me. I was the last kid left waiting, as usual. Mom didn’t have trouble picking Cole up from

basketball practice on time, but whenever I had a theater thing, she was always late.
 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/9

“Hey, sweetie. Sorry, I’m running a little behind,” she said as I threw my book bag in her

backseat. “How was your day?”

“My day? It was fine,” I snapped. “And, in case you’re wondering, my audition went

really well, too. Thanks for asking.” We rode in silence for a couple of blocks before I added,

“You know I almost called Grandma to come get me since you were so late.” I really had almost

called Grandma. She would’ve picked me up on time, and she would’ve remembered I’d had a

big audition, something important to me. My mom had no clue.

“I told you I was sorry, Dylan. Just let it go.” She reached over, gave my knee a

patronizing squeeze, then changed the subject. “Cole has a game tonight, but we have just

enough time to swing by Burger Shack for a burger and milkshake first. How does that sound?”

Mom knew just where to get me, my stomach. I was starving and Burger Shack burgers

were the best in town. Instead of continuing a pointless argument, I let my hunger do the talking

and caved. “Sounds good,” I mumbled.

Mom's phone rang, and she answered it on speakerphone.

“Hey, you two coming tonight?” Dad asked.

“We'll be there soon. I'm just getting Dylan now, and we're grabbing some dinner first.”

“Okay. I'll save you seats in our regular spot.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Craig.”

Even though my parents weren't together anymore, they still shared a deep interest in

Cole's athletics. They always sat together at Cole's games, which sometimes confused people, but

not me. I understood perfectly. They divorced each other years ago, but they both stayed married

to Cole and his basketball career.

 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/10

Chapter Three
He Heard a Snap

Cole was a senior at Townsend Academy, a private school where my dad taught

Geography and A.P. World History. I could’ve gone there too, but I chose to go to our local

public high school, John C. Henley, instead. I told people it was because their theatre program

was the best in the state, which was partly true, and because my best friend Tyler went there.

Mostly, though, it was because of Cole.

I’d spent my whole life being nothing more than Cole's little brother and I was sick of the

constant comparisons to Cole Truman, Super Athlete. Each year in school, gym teachers would

light up when they saw my name on their roster. “Oh, you must be Cole’s brother,” they’d say.

Then when they discovered I couldn't even do a single chin-up, they’d shake their heads in

disgust.

It wasn’t only teachers I let down. When I didn’t live up to the Truman tradition of

athletic excellence, I knew my parents were disappointed, too. Mom was a high school state

champion swimmer and my dad was a three-sport all-star. So when it came time for me to choose

a high school, I picked one where the gym’s wall of fame didn’t boast a single Truman name. I

chose John C. Henley High School where nobody knew I was Cole Truman’s little brother. In

fact, I hoped nobody knew Cole Truman at all.

 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/11

When Mom and I arrived at Cole’s basketball game, the Townsend Academy gym was

already packed. This was a pre-season, tournament game and the other team—Danforth Hill—

was supposedly pretty good. I spotted Dad a few rows back behind Townsend's bench. At 6 foot

3 inches, Dad towered above everyone around him. Plus, his shiny, bald head was hard to miss.

He was talking to a lady dressed in a tight, pink sweat suit. She was leaning towards him with

one hand on her hip, flipping her blonde-streaked hair from side to side and giggling. Even at his

age, Dad was a chick magnet, just like Cole. Apparently, the trait was hereditary, but somehow I

missed that genetic benefit. Dad glanced up and waved us over, while the lady in pink motioned

a cheesy good-bye to Dad and left.

My grandparents sat a few rows behind Dad. Gramps immersed himself in the sports

section of the newspaper while Grandma nervously surveyed the crowd, her Q-tip shaped, gray

head oscillating from left to right. I’d much rather have joined them, but their row was already

full. At least sitting with them, I had a chance at a conversation that didn’t revolve solely around

Cole and his athletic perfection.

Cole and his teammates were out on the floor warming up. As usual, he was nailing every

three-pointer he shot. Even though I didn’t like to admit it, my brother was really talented when

it came to basketball. Dad said Cole would probably get a decent scholarship to any school in the

Big East. Cole was hoping for Villanova or Georgetown, but he really didn't care as long as he

got to play.

The first half of the game was not even close. Cole was leading his team to what

appeared to be a solid victory. There were sixteen seconds left in the third quarter when Cole and

his teammate Eddie, the center, along with two other guys from Danforth Hill, went up for a

rebound. Nothing special about it, just a regular old rebound. All four guys jumped up with their

hands stretched over their heads reaching for the ball. Eddie snagged it first, yanking it down
 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/12

towards his chest. The Danforth Hill players swatted at Eddie a few times as he clutched the ball,

then they all cleared the lane and made their way back down court. That’s when everyone first

noticed Cole still lying there under the basket, white as a ghost.

Mom immediately sprang up from her seat. Dad’s outstretched arm flew out to stop her.

“He'll get up. Just give him a second. He’ll get up,” Dad assured her.

The entire gym fell silent. Cole didn't get up.

The team trainer raced onto the court while Cole lay remarkably still right where he’d

landed. Then, disoriented, he twisted himself around to find us in the crowd. There was this

expression on his face that I'll never forget. Shock. Confusion. Defeat. It must have looked like

pain to everyone else, but I know what I saw that day in my brother’s eyes. It was total

devastation.

***

“I heard a snap, Dad. I heard a snap!” Cole's voice cracked with panic. He sat on the

bench behind his team with his right leg propped up, an ice pack balanced on his knee. “I heard a

snap. Damn it!” He nodded his head hard as if the shaking would make this all just go away.

“This isn't happening. This cannot be happening,” he kept repeating to himself.

The game had resumed by then. Mom was talking to the trainer and the coach down on

the court, while Dad, Grandma, Gramps, and I were all trying to calm Cole down. His ashen face

reddened with rage as he watched his teammates race back and forth down the court.

“Now, there are lots of little things in knees that can make it seem like a snap. Don't

worry, son. We'll get it checked out.” That was Dad, forever the optimist. “I'm sure you'll be fine,

back out there in no time.”

 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/13

“Yeah, Rex, don't sweat it now. We don't know anything yet,” Gramps said

encouragingly. Gramps called everybody Rex. I’ve always thought it was because he didn’t have

to remember anybody’s name that way.

“Gramps is right. We don't even know what it is yet, honey,” Grandma echoed as she

reached out to pat Cole’s shoulder.

“Hey, yeah, and anyway, you got a standing O for it. That was pretty cool,” I piped in.

“Shut. Up. I don't give a crap about a standing O. I just blew out my effing knee, ass

face!”

I sank back down onto the bleachers. So much for making him feel better.

Cole's cheerleader girlfriend, Meghan, watched it all from across the court. Every time

her squad finished a cheer, she'd look our way and try to get Cole's attention, batting her weepy

eyes. Her squad swarmed around her like bees trying to console their queen. She totally milked

it, but Cole didn't even acknowledge her. He was too focused on his knee.

Mom jogged back up the bleacher steps and grabbed her purse and coat. “We've got to

head over to MC. He needs an MRI. It could have been his ACL.”

All those initials had me confused. MC. I knew that was Memorial Children's, as in

Memorial Children's Hospital. And MRI was some kind of medical test. But ACL? What was

that?

“No. No no no no. It doesn't even hurt. You can't blow your ACL without it hurting, can

you? Can you?! And look, it's not really swollen...” Cole started lifting his right leg off the

bleachers as if he would try to stand. As soon as he let his right foot touch the floor, terror blazed

in his eyes. He grimaced and groaned trying to fight back the pain.

“Cole, sit down, son,” Dad commanded as he put the ice mound back onto Cole's knee.
 Slease/A Brother’s Oath/14

“Colby, honey, wait a sec,” Mom said. “They are getting you crutches right now. You

can't put weight on that knee. We don't know what's wrong yet. They just said it might be the

ACL, but it probably isn't.”

“Wait, what’s an ACL?” I asked.

“It’s something in your knee, Dylan,” Mom said as she put on her coat.

“Oh, so is it bad or something?” I asked.

“No, dipshit. It’s awesome to blow your ACL! Freaking awesome!” Cole barked.

“Okay, guys, please. This has been a crazy night,” Mom sighed as she fished her keys out

of her purse. She turned to Grandma and asked, “Can you take Dylan in your car? I don't have

any idea how long this will take.” Mom spun back to me as an afterthought and mouthed,

“Okay?” as if my opinion mattered.

I shrugged, then nodded in agreement. I didn’t really care about how long it would take

as long as I didn’t have to ride in the back seat with Grouchy McGrouchmeister. Plus, I was

banking on Grandma having peanut M&M’s in her car like she usually did.

“Of course, Amy, of course,” Grandma said. “We’ll take Dylan with us and drive behind

you. And if it takes too long, he can stay with us tonight. He owes me a game of Monopoly,

anyway, don’t you, Dylan?” Then she turned to Cole and added, “Hang in there, sweetie. You’ll

be out on that court again in no time.”

“That’s right,” Gramps said, as he put his arm around my shoulder. “Let's go, Rex.”

We started down the steps of the bleachers with Grandma behind us. When I reached the

gym floor, I glanced back up at Cole. He was still sitting there balancing a giant bag of ice on his

knee. Sweaty blond curls matted around his ears, and his face had cooled to a colorless white. He

looked at me with the strangest expression. Blank. Totally blank. For a minute, I almost felt sorry

for him.