Brother Broken

Foreword Clarion Review 

Alf Reads about about skull cramps...

The next afternoon, John was slouched in a chair in the kitchen when Alex came in from outside. He watched as John sat up, using his elbows to steady himself at the table.

“Uncle, what’s wrong with you?”

John’s reply to the question came out slurred and slow, with a garbled chuckle: “Too many barley sandwiches last night.”

“What’s a barley sandwich?”

Alex waited, watching as John tried to light a smoke. But the shakes made it difficult. The little spectator wasn’t going anywhere. John cocked an arm to rest his forehead in his palm. He tilted his head slightly and stared, glossy-eyed, at Alex. They ogled each other for a silent moment. Then John raised his eyebrows as if to convey the burning question, What?

“Can you give us rides on the trail bike?”

“Do it later, ’kay? I got skull cramps.” He reached for the ashtray, turning his attention away from his nephew.

Alex went outside to the backyard, where his buddies sat waiting.

“He can’t. He got skull cramps.”

“He got what?”

“Is that like when you get the shits?”

Dad was making himself a fresh cup of coffee, trying but failing to ignore John, who was hunched at the kitchen table nursing a hangover. The sight upended Dad, and he couldn’t help but pose the question.

“Can’t you stay off the booze for a while?”

“Oh, for shit’s sake.” John didn’t want to hear another lecture. He spewed whiny sarcasm: “Well, I’m not drinking now, am I?”

There was no point getting into it again, so they quickly dropped the exchange.

Tension always mounted the morning after. Dad couldn’t ignore the boy’s drinking. Mom was better at sidestepping arguments. She understood there wasn’t a thing she could say or do to mend his ways. It had to be John’s doing and John’s alone, and a change didn’t seem to be coming anytime soon.

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