Brothers WC: 298

Brothers
WC 298

The streetlights were on; we stood at the rusted gate.

Being the older brother, I said, “Let’s head back, Timmy.”

“The streetlights are already on. What're a few more minutes?”
Timmy said. “Anyway, we’re on vacation.”

I, too, was curious about the old lady that lived in this Addams Family mansion.

“YOU OLD CROW,” Timmy yelled.

I pulled him back behind the bushes.

“What are you doing?” I shook him. “Might look like a crow, but she's a witch, stupid!”

“That’s a rumor, Sam.”

“And if it isn’t, and she is a witch? She’ll put a curse on us.” I turned to leave.

Timmy flapped his wings. “Pock, pock. You act more like the kid brother, Sam.”

Sometimes Timmy did act more like the older brother.

“She’s looking out the window.”

“So?”

“Sam!”

“What?”

The old lady was standing on the porch holding what looked like a paper airplane. She aimed it at the bushes; the missile flew into Timmy’s hand.

“Erma Gird, she is a witch!” he said and opened the folded paper.

There was a drawing of a circle; in the center of it were two boy stick figures, slashed out with a red X. Scrawled underneath: “I know where you live!”

We ran all the way home.

Our father was waiting at the front door. “Well, boys?”

We explained what happened and showed him the message.

“How did you provoke this?”

“We didn’t,” we said at the same time.

“Must have done something.”

“No!” I said, fingers crossed.

“Actions have consequences, boys.”

Silence.

“Speaking of streetlights…you two are grounded for a week.”

Back in our room, Timmy said, “At least we’ll be safe for one week.”

“And then what, Tim?”

“I don’t know! You tell me. You’re the older brother, Sam.”

“Only by eight minutes.”