Page 80 of Two Marlboros

Jimmy immediately ran up to him and, from the sound, I guessed that my father had hugged him. I felt the chill, even though it was mid-August. My eyes couldn’t tear away from the rifleman hiding behind a dune. He was small and inanimate, and at that very moment I wished I were like him. I could feel Jimmy’s eyes on me. I could feel my father’s, too. I even heard my mother’s sigh as she tried to say something, but failing.

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

His contempt encapsulated in a single sentence. His disgust hidden behind that nauseated look he was giving me. I had stopped being Nathan and had become just an abortion.

“He’s playing with me.”

I thought I heard wrong, but Jimmy was sustaining my father’s gaze, never lowering his eyes, which betrayed his fear, shifting a little bit.

“Alright, the games are over. Out of the way.”

My legs were soft. If I had stood up, they would not have held. I felt two fingers grab me by one ear and pull me up.

“I said ‘get out of the way’, got it?”

I pulled myself up and looked at him. His eyes in mine. I was shaking. Then again, even if I hadn’t, my heartbeat, which I had never felt so strong, would have taken care of it.

“Leave him alone!”

I watched as two small hands pushed on his thighs to pull him away from me.

My five-year-old brother had more spine than I did. I felt like a little caterpillar, the hairy, lumpy kind; and I also felt that my father was crushing me with the toe of his foot, as I had done just before with the cigarette butt, to make sure he had squished me well on the asphalt.

My father grabbed Jimmy by the arm and yanked him away. My arms moved on their own and I slammed them into his chest.

“Don’t you touch him! Don’t you dare!”

My father pushed me too and I fell face first to the floor.

“Stop it right now! Stop it!”

My mother was between us. I sustained my father’s gaze until he walked away toward his study.

Jimmy’s cry made me realize that I had lost some blood.

“Does it hurt?”

My mother stuck a large piece of paper up my nostril.

“A little,” I replied in a nasal voice that amused my brother, who meanwhile had snuggled onto my thigh and seemed unwilling to get off.

“I’ll help you!”

Jimmy stretched his little fingers over the pad, but he pushed too hard and I let out a groan.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he shouted.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing.”

In truth it hurt like hell. Our mother came out of the bathroom and Jimmy waited until she was gone to throw his arms around my neck. His squeeze was the sincerest gesture I could receive at that moment. I squeezed his little body in my arms and was surprised at how small he could be.

“You are my big brother and I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, too,” I replied.

I felt his little fist squeeze my shirt, so I pulled him to me even tighter, caressing his back.

“When are you coming back here?”

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