My Big Brother

A Day In The Life Of. . .




“Hey, Pete. Let’s go.” My brother, Ed, grabbed my coat. “The snow is perfect.”
There isn’t anything my brother could do wrong. If he said the snow was perfect, it was perfect. “Okay, did Mother say it was okay?”
“Mother’s at work. Now, do you want to go sledding or not?”
That was a stupid question. Of course, I wanted to go sledding. I looked out the window and the snow showered down like a heavenly pillow fight with goose-down feathers. It was going to be so much fun.
Ed found a piece of corrugated tin from an old shed roof. After carefully measuring out enough rope, he punctured holes in the front sides and slipped the rope through. It not only gave the rider a handle to grab on to but it also secured the tin once tied behind the jeep.
I saw the sled the day before, “Ed, it’s beautiful. Where did you get it? When can I ride it? Can I ride it?”
Jumping up and down Ed grabbed me, “Pete, calm down. Would I ever make a great thing like this and not have my little sister ride?” I hugged him with all my might.
That was yesterday. Today was an adventure. Ed helped me get into my show pants, oversized boots, and coat. I was headed out the door. “Let’s go.”
“Get your little butt back here. Mother would kill me if you got sick.”
I turned around so my big brother could finish helping me get dressed. He held out my scarf, mittens, and hat. It was going to be tough to maneuver with all the garb on but we were going sledding and we were going to spend the day together, Ed and me. It was everything I ever wanted.
Ed was six years older than me and so worldly. His thin, six-foot frame was complimented by white-blond hair and dark brown eyebrows. It was like God wanted to make sure everyone would focus on his eyes, his loving eyes. “Pete, get this stuff on.” And, like John Wayne in so many of his westerns, “We’re burning’ daylight.”
Pete is a name that only two people in the whole world could call me. It was my brother and my cousin, Bob. No one knew where it came from but it made me feel so special when I was with them. It was like we had our own little club and when you’re nine and your big brother invites you into a club, there are no words--just warmth, love, and acceptance.
“Pete?”
“I’m coming. Is Myrna coming?”
“You know our sister has to primp and preen for the day.”
We both laughed as we headed out to the barn. The sled was waiting.
“Ed, how come Dad isn’t making you work today?”
“He said with the snow this bad, nothing can get done except feeding the cattle, pigs and chickens.”
We walked through the snow down the gravel road to the machine shed. “I have to back the jeep out and get the sled ready?”
I nodded. My lips were already cold and the snow wasn’t melting anymore when it hit my face. “Ed, I’m already cold?”
Ed walked over to me and pulled my scarf up over my nose. He turned me around and tied a tight knot in the scarf. My nose was squished but I noticed it was warming up. Ed was so smart.
The machine shed held everything a farmer needed to work, tools, the off-season equipment, and a place to put homemade toys—like Ed and my new sled. Ed backed the topless jeep out of the shed. I heard the crunch of the snow and the roar of the engine. We were about ready to go. Or, so I thought.
Dad came running up from the barn. “Ed, where are you going?”
Ed squinted as if that would help him hear over the jeep noise. “Huh?”
Dad didn’t look happy. “I said where are you going?”
Ed said, “I didn’t think I needed to work today because,” he looked up at the falling snow, “of the weather.” He climbed out of the jeep, “At least, that’s what I thought.”
Dad’s gray eyes smiled, “I don’t remember saying anything about work.”
He pulled Ed away from the driver side of the jeep and jumped in. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going sledding.”
Ed and I smiled when we heard my sister’s voice behind us. I turned around and saw Myrna bundled up with all the accessories that make you stay warm. She brushed off the snow off the front passenger seat and climbed in, “I call shotgun.”
Ed tried to pull her out of the seat to take over. After all, he was the big brother. “I always ride shotgun.”
Dad said, “Not today. Now are we going to fight over who sits where or are we going sledding?”
Ed picked me up and plopped me down on the slick metal seat behind Myrna. Ed grabbed the sled and vaulted into the seat opposite me. He tapped Dad on the shoulder, “Let’s go.”
My dad laughed and when he laughed it came from his toes. “We’re. . .”
Myrna interjected, “burning daylight.”
We all joined in the moment, laughing and hiccoughing as the jeep bounded down the road, hitting every rock and divot. Each time we smashed into a big rock, I flew off the seat and once Ed had to actually grab me and put me back down. “Pete, hang on. It’s only going to get bumpier when we’re on the sled.”
Dad made a sharp turn into one of the fields that we used for growing corn when planting season came. I was so glad it wasn’t planting season. The sharp turn pulled me off my seat one more time. I landed in Ed’s lap.
“Sure glad you were there,” I said.
Ed picked me up, brushed some of the new snow off my jacket, and put me back in my seat,” Me too.”
The jeep stopped right in the middle of the field. I looked around. There were a few cornstalks peeking out from under the blanket of snow but mostly all we saw was white, clean untapped snow.
Dad jumped out of the jeep. He looked at the sled and the imaginative way Ed put the rope. “Good job, son. Who’s going first?”
Myrna said, “Me.” She slid off the seat and picked up the tin sled. “I think I need to go first.”
Ed disagreed. “I’m the oldest and made it. I need to go first. Come on, Dad. It’s only fair.” He snatched the sled away from Myrna.
Dad seized the sled from both my older sister and brother. “I think Alida needs to go first.”
I jumped up into my Dad’s arms. His wide rough hands gripped me so I wouldn’t fall. All my life I wondered how my dad’s hands could be so rough on the outside but all I ever felt when his hand encompassed mine was softness and gentleness.
“Daddy, really? I can go first. Really?” I looked at Myrna and Ed. They didn’t seem pleased at all. I skimmed down my dad’s side and landed in the snow. “That’s okay Daddy. Ed can go first.”
Myrna piped up, “Why Ed?”
Dad raised his hand to halt all the bickering. His voice was stern and unquestionable, “I said Alida was going first.” He took Ed by the sleeve of his coat and dragged him toward the back of the jeep. Myrna and I couldn’t hear what they were saying but Ed was agreeing with him.
Ed came back around the jeep, “Pete, let me show you how to ride this bucking bronco.” He smiled at me and stuck his tongue out at Myrna.
Myrna stomped back to the passenger seat that she cherished so much just minutes ago. “I’ll be here when it’s my turn.” The pout in her voice screamed at us all.
Ed just shrugged. He loved getting under Myrna’s skin. I guess it came from them being only three years apart in age. Myrna also told me he couldn’t get her to do everything he asked like he could get me to. I didn’t care. Ed was my favorite person.
Ed looked away from Myrna and put me on the sled. My feet went out from under me and I landed unceremoniously in the middle of the tin. “Ed, my feet are cold and there’s snow under my pant leg.”
“Now, don’t be a baby. My little sister isn’t a crybaby, is she?”
I shivered, “No. I’m okay.”
Ed rubbed my legs hard and fast. The friction brought warmth in what was a very cold day. “I’m okay, really.”
“Okay, Ed said, conspiratorially. “Listen close. Dad’s gonna run the jeep straight down the field so you won’t fall off. He won’t go too fast.”
“I wanna go fast.”
Ed patted me on top of my head which I could hardly feel due to a hat, ear muffs, and a scarf wrapped around it. “Let’s take it easy this time, okay?”
Dad said, “Let’s go.” He revved the motor, “Hold on, honey. Here we go.”
My heart was beating out of my chest. The jeep had to be going a thousand miles an hour as the snow spit up from the jeep and hit me life ice daggers. I wasn’t going to let go for anything. I was scared, happy, exhilarated, and scared. No one but me was ever going to know that though.
The jeep made a gentle turn back to my sister and brother. It was the only time when the snow, mixed with dirt and little pieces of cornstalk, wasn’t spewing at me. The reprieve gave me time to try and smile. The cold made it hard but I cracked a smile that was only obvious to me since Ed had tied such a strong knot in the scarf around my face.
The jeep stopped and Ed helped me off the tin. “Was a great?”
I tried to get my face to move, finally after gyrating my muscles a couple of times, I could finally talk. “It was the best time of my life.”
Dad picked me up and put me in the back of the jeep. “You can watch your brother and sister from here.” He jumped back behind the driver’s seat and peeled out, throwing dirt, cornstalks, snow, and bits of ice at Ed.
”See how long you can stay on.”
Ed just smiled that beautiful smile. He took one hand off the rope and put it up in the air like a bronco rider,” I’ll do chores for a week without complaining if you buck me off.” Myrna and I grabbed on to whatever would keep us in the jeep and Dad took off. He spun, whirled, and intermittently slowed down and sped up. Ed kept holding on, laughing so loud that we could hear him over the engine.
Then, it happened. The jeep’s front wheel hit a boulder hidden under the snow. It tiptoed on just the right side wheels for what seemed like an eternity. Ed stopped laughing. Dad spun the steering wheel to the left and took his foot off the gas. No one was laughing.
The jeep came back down on all four wheels with a thud. All I heard was the eerie, icy wind trying to invade my hat and scarf. Dad vaulted out of the jeep and ran back to Ed and the tin sled.
Then, I heard Ed start to laugh again.
“Well, dad, you didn’t buck me off. Does that mean I don’t have to do any chores for a week?”
Dad looked at Myrna and me and winked, “Nope. I mean you can still complain.”
Ed hopped off the tin and jumped in the back of the jeep with me. “That isn’t fair.”
Myrna shrugged, “You should have made sure of the bet before you made it.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Dad intervened, “Now, kids, let’s get home.”
Ed said, “Why isn’t Myrna going to ride?”
Myrna answered, “Because I don’t want to.”
Ed started the badgering, “Chicken. Chicken.”
Myrna, sitting in the front seat again, just kept looking ahead. “I’m not chicken. It’s just that I have to help mother with supper pretty soon.”
Dad put the jeep in four-wheel drive and turned toward the house without any added comment. I found out years later that what my dad and brother talked about behind the jeep was the fact that new snow was the safest to sled on and being the baby of the family, Dad and Ed wanted me safe.
That was one of the best days of my life. I look back at it as if it were yesterday. I remember the snow, the smells, the smiles, the fields, and that old jeep. But, most of all, I remember my brother and his smile. Sometimes, in my dreams, my brother is walking away from me; he turns, and waves to me. I don’t know where he’s going but his warm eyes and infectious smile promises me he’ll be back, even if it’s only in my dreams.