Blood Factor

         I have a brother? A twin brother? I’m twenty-two years old and my mother is finally confessing that I have a twin brother. My mother is dying, cancer has invaded her body, and it has taken over in a mere three month period. She is trying to tell me the only secret she knows. My father died five years ago, he was a firefighter, and he was trying to save a young woman. Yet there was a spark and the car caught fire, the car exploded killing my father and the woman, it also killed two other firemen and injuring three more of his friends. The only person I have left is now on her death bed, and desperately telling me that I have to continue her search for a brother that I never knew existed. Why hasn’t she told me this before? Why wait until the very last possible moment? She must know that I would have a hundred million questions for her. How could she and my father keep something so important secret for so many years?
         Sitting on the edge of my mother’s hospital bed, holding her hand as she struggled to talk, I patiently wait for her gasping words. Not only do I have a twin brother but my mother and father adopted me twenty-two years ago from a local church. My biological mother dropped my brother and me off, she disappeared into the night without a trace, and the nuns settled on privately adopting us out. They sealed our records so until we turned eighteen we would not be able to access our files. How could I possibly access files when I didn’t even know I was adopted? Stupid question but I don’t understand why she waited until now to tell me. Before I could stop myself, the question was out, and hurt glazed her dark brown eyes for a moment.
“Casey, your father and I never wanted you to find out, as you grew you began to look like us. We never thought in a million years that things would end up like this - which you would once again end up being an orphan.”
“I wish you would have told me sooner. I would have liked to get to know my brother. Who is he? Where does he live?” I ask.
“Forgive me dear, I lost track of him years ago, I don’t know where he is now.”
“What church did you adopt me from?”
“Center Street, Sister Mary Rose can help you, don’t think too harshly of your father and me.”
         With those words said and my promise to always love her no matter what, my mother closed her eyes, and she steadied her breathing the best she could. Within moments her breathing stopped and her hand went limp in mine. The machines went wild with their bells and whistles, doctors and nurses rushed in, and I was forced into a corner. Tears streamed from my eyes as I watched them work on the only woman I knew to be my mother. The failed attempt to revive Allison Parker caused my heart to cry out. I am alone in this world and I have to plan a funeral now. Both my parents were only children and their parents had died young too. The attending doctor called the time of death at fourteen fifteen, two fifteen in the afternoon, and all cleared except for me and a nurse not much older than I am. She hugged me and told me to take my time saying good bye. The young nurse promised to be at the nursing station when I was ready, if I needed any help with anything I am supposed to ask, at the moment nothing comes to mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
         I leave Center Memorial Hospital and walk the three blocks to the church were I was supposedly abandoned at. I stand outside the Catholic Church and stare at the doors. I can’t remember when I last went to church nor do I remember if I can simply walk in or if I should knock. I decide to sit on the steps for awhile and try to digest everything that has happened in the last few hours. I have had a shock to my
system and didn’t really have time to think if I should really try to find a brother that I never knew about until today. Did my mother really mean she wanted me to continue a search for someone I don’t even know? But knowing my mother as well as I do, she doesn’t say anything she doesn’t mean, even when she was in pain.
         I slowly rise up to my full height of five foot three inches and stretch my athletic body. I run my hands through my bluish black hair that comes to the center of my neck and has layers cut into it. My royal blue eyes are heavy, tiredness finally crept up on me, and my heart aches. I look back at the church doors and remember the name sister Mary Rose. I will return, to ask questions, and see where it takes me. But for now I have other things to attend to, I am alone in the world at the moment or until I find this brother of mine, and I want to make sure I honor my adoptive mother. I want to make sure she has a beautiful wake and funeral. Alison Parker, my mother, has done so much for me. I am now starting to see the bigger picture but she has made my life full of joy and exciting. She never once discouraged me. She gently guided me on whatever path I chose to walk along. She only deserves to have the best of the best but sadly the best is only what I can afford.
         I stretch my body and begin to walk down the steps towards the street when I hear the large heavy doors open behind me. A little old man walks out of the church with a little girl who appears to be no more than three years old. The elderly man, the little girl’s grandfather I am guessing, smiles at me. The little girl merrily says hi and gives me an enormous wave. I reply with a hello to them both and a little wave to the girl. The man stops and the little girl reaches up and takes his hand asking if her pappy is okay which sounds like ‘ok papa?’. The elderly man looks down at the impressionable little face with huge green eyes and he assures her things are fine. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow and asks if I am looking for something or if I’m lost. I smile softly.
“No sir, I came here to look for some comfort, and some answers. But at the moment I have some loose ends to tie up first.” I say.
“Oh, well, good luck ma’am. I just thought you might need directions and didn’t want to leave you without any help.”
“Sir?” I ask.
“Yes?”
“Does a sister Mary Rose work here?”
“Why yes she does. She will be back in the morning, she left an hour or so ago, she tends to feeding those less fortunate than we are.” He says.
“That’s great. I will check in with her when I finish up those loose ends.”
“Very good. Glad I could be of some help.”
         I watch the man slowly walk with his granddaughter until I could no longer see them. That little girl is lucky to have a grandfather. I had a pair but knew neither one of them for they passed away before I was added to the family. I wish I did know at least one of them, I would rather it be both, but I would gladly take knowing one of them if that was a choice. I wonder if they would have walked with me to church, if they would hold my hand, and what they would teach me. I sigh, there isn’t anything left right now, and I feel the dark despair starting to close in around me. Oddly enough it is soothing, the darkness engulfing my mind and feelings, I don’t want to think or feel right now. I don’t want to agonize, I want to be able to accomplish what I need to do, and I need to do it fast before the depressing weight takes a hold of me. I don’t need that, I need to stay focused, and concentrate on the good things.
         I know it will be hard for me. I don’t know who to contact or who to talk to. How do people get through a death like this? How do you keep your cool? Who do I call first? I don’t know the right things to do or say, I don’t know what is expected of me, why did this have to happen? I can feel myself slipping into the poor me phase and I don’t try to fight it. I know I need to grieve a little.