I felt better. I had been right. It had been cathartic.
I stood up and walked out the front door, leaving it unlocked behind me. I had parked the rental car down the street so as not to alert my brother to my presence in the house. I sat behind the wheel and started the car but I did not put it into gear. I just sat there thinking about what I had done. Was it regret I was feeling or relief? I couldn’t tell.
“Joe?”
I looked around to see where the voice had come from but there was no one in the street. I began to worry about my sanity. I put the car into gear, made a U-turn and headed out of my brother’s neighborhood. As I drove, I thought to myself. I don’t think I was relieved at all. This had not been the catharsis I had been hoping for. But I didn’t regret it either. Or did I?
“Joe?”
Again the voice calling me. I pulled out onto the main road and headed back toward the airport. I thought that I must be losing my mind. I tried to think about my wife and kids at home, hoping that after this day I could return to a semblance of my old life.
“Joe!”
The voice was getting louder and more annoying. I worried for my sanity at this point. How many stories were told of people going mad after committing a murder? But this wasn’t murder, it was an execution. It was for the good of society. It was ...
“Joe!”
I felt my body shake and I opened my eyes. I was lying on a hospital bed staring at a white ceiling. As I looked around I saw that I was surrounded by faces looking down at me. I could see my wife. And my mother. And my father. They were all looking down at me. There was no rental car here.
“How are you feeling?” asked my wife.
And then I remembered. My eyes darted around to each of the faces around my bed and I remembered. I remembered that so much of this story I have been telling was true. The business my brother and I had started was real: his attempt to marginalize me, to move me to a 25% stake, to contribute double what he contributed to the new partner, to convert me to a supplier at 10%, my financial and mental deterioration. All of this had happened, of that I was certain. But what about my trip to Greensboro to get retribution? How much of that was true?
I looked around at the faces again and I saw part of the answer. My brother was here too, looking down at me. But I could not read his face. It was blank. Yet he was here. But, regardless of his presence, I knew I could not forgive him. I was in the hospital because he had indirectly caused the accident. Yes, I remember the accident vaguely. But I also realized that I could not have killed him either. And that realization gave me some measure of peace.
I closed my eyes and considered how to deal with him now. I remembered what had happened. My cracked teeth had been the least of my problems. I had fallen into a deep depression caused by the loss of my siblings and compounded by my financial problems. Overwrought with anxiety one evening, I had decided to go for a walk. It had been dark and the roads had been ice covered and I had not really been paying attention, still running through the last year in my mind, the deep disappointment in my brother clouding my judgement. As I had walked through the neighbourhood and turned a corner I only saw the brightness of the headlights for a second before I was hit. But that’s all I remembered. I didn’t remember anything else.
“Joe?” asked my wife. “Do you remember what happened?”
I opened my eyes and looked up at my wife. I parted my lips but no words came out. As I couldn’t speak, I shook my head. It wasn’t really a shake because I didn’t have the strength. It may have been more like a twitch but it seemed to convey my meaning.
“You were hit by a car. You’ve been in a coma for three weeks.” She looked down at me with a kind expression. It was that beautiful face that I had married and I was so thankful for it now. “Do you remember?”
I nodded. I remembered the accident but how could I remember a coma? I turned my head slightly to look over at my brother. Well, I tried to move my head but, again, I’m not sure it moved or just twitched again. Why was he here?
My wife saw my movement. “Do you want Emory to leave?” she asked.
I considered the question and then nodded. Nothing could make things right between us and I could feel my blood pressure rising just by his presence in the room. I started to relax as I saw him leave. I couldn’t see the expression on his face but I didn’t really care to.
“Do you want your parents to leave?” asked my wife.
I shook my head. I wanted them to leave but I wanted to make sure they understood that I considered them far different from my brother. By letting them stay, I was making a statement. I was glad I hadn’t killed my brother but I still wanted him to be punished. To my parents, on the other hand, I wished no harm.
“Joe, do you want me to leave?” asked my wife. She looked sad now, uncertain what I wanted.
“No,” I said coarsely, the single word barely audible to me. My wife bent down to hear me better and I then struggled to get out the next sentence. “You stay as long as you like.” And I tried my best to smile, although I’m not sure what it looked like.
“I love you,” I said, still hoarse yet audible, and I saw her smile. And then I closed my eyes and fell asleep to dream about my wife and my kids and my next enterprise. Somehow my brother was no longer in my dreams or, more accurately, my nightmares.
After another week and much more rest I was finally discharge from the hospital. And for that entire week I neither thought no dreamed once about my brother. For weeks afterward I wondered how I had managed to exorcise my demon and I could only reach one conclusion. Because of my accident and the divinely inspired coma, I had managed to kill my brother in a kind of virtual reality. Most people never had the opportunity to kill someone in their mind and believe in the killing so completely, but I did. And it was cathartic. Of course I now realize that it had all been in my mind but it was so real that it had the desired effect. I was free.
Being able to concentrate then gave me the ability to start my own business and to work towards a goal, any goal, without being distracted by the worry or stress or anger related to being mistreated by a brother. I had lost several years of my life to that bastard but now that I had killed him in my mind I didn’t have to lose the remaining years.
Thank heavens I was hit by that car.
###
About the Author
If you have enjoyed this short story, find out more about B. Regan Asher on the author’s web site at http://breganasher.com. On the web site you will also find out more about full length books like Il Vendetta and White Cell:
Il Vendetta
When a buyer was murdered in rural Pennsylvania, the secret world of Star Stores began to unravel. With almost a trillion dollars in sales, the company had completely concealed its clandestine operations. But now suppliers in China were starting to fight back. And, in the US, one lone man would choose to speak out. It was then a race against time to go public before the retailer could stop him.
White Cell
Hackers are a little strange and Jim Kincaid is no different. Deep in debt, he loans money from the uncle of an acquaintance. Now he's drawn into a world of Mafia and terrorism, a world which threatens his family and friends. Somehow he must free himself from this situation and, in so doing, learn the secret from his past which will explain so much.
The author behind B Regan Asher loves writing has been doing so on and off for over 30 years. He has also spent over 15 years working in the retail supply chain working with major North American retailers, creating software solutions for the supply chain, and travelling to China to source and develop new products. With extensive experience in supply chain management and software, the author has incorporated his personal background and philosophy into each book. Each novel is different, but based on the author's personal experience in the retail supply chain and the software development environments.
The author lives with his wife and two children in Ontario, Canada and welcomes comments and inquiries from inte
rested parties through his web site's contact form.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 - The Deed
Chapter 2 - The Characters
Chapter 3 - The Family Business
Chapter 4 - The Deal with My Brother
Chapter 5 - Breaking Up
Chapter 6 - The Nature of the Beast
Chapter 7 - Marginalization
Chapter 8 - Afterwards
Chapter 9 - Retribution
Chapter 10 - Greensboro
Why I Had To Kill My Brother Page 4