by Olga Menson
I guess what I'm saying is, we've had our share of problems, and we've overcome them together too, and grown closer for it. We seemed dysfunctional at times, but we weren't. In fact, the more we shared and supported each other, the more smoothly all of our lives went.
We were charmed, really. It had to end sometime.
* * *
Craft and War
* * *
I grew up, got rebellious and moody, jumped from art to science, and back again. You could say I never really found my calling, but that wouldn't be correct. The truth was that I loved to mix things. I loved to bring science to art and vice versa. I'm pretty sure neither Mom or Dad knew what to do with me, so they just kept getting me books and tools and electronics and art supplies. I'm not a genius or anything, I don't want you to think that. I'm not really great at any one thing, but I'm good at a lot of things, especially if those things are technical, mathematical, or musical.
Athena was a different story. She showed us all that she was a genius. After two years of dance, it was evident that she not only took it more seriously than other children, but she was developing faster, with a natural sense of rhythm and movement. She took classes in ballet, interpretive, fusion, historical, and contemporary dance.
We used to play a game when I was in high school. I always had one of my "instruments" around, which basically were devices that I'd hodge-podge together and then hook up to a basic PC interface. I wrote or played music on them. A lot of the time, it was trash, to be honest, but sometimes I would make something that people liked, or at least found compelling enough to listen to.
I would write simple songs, and Athena would dance to them. It wouldn't just be a one-off thing. I'd play it, and she'd dance, then we'd talk about it. She'd do it again, with changes. By the third repetition, her movements were like a part of the song, and that was when she usually started making suggestions to me about ways that I could improve the song itself.
It would have been infuriating if she wasn't always right, too.
After we'd worked on something for an afternoon, Athena would spin and blend through multiple styles of dance - styles that were never meant to work together so closely. Still, she made the transitions seem as natural as the weather and watching her affected me. I hoped that one day I would create or design something as beautiful as she moved.
Together, we worked on a project the last year I was in high school, a composition, just between us. We didn't work on it consistently, both of us were too busy for that, but at least once a week we'd go over what we had and revise and build and compose and choreograph, together. When it was done, we saved the music and the plans and stored it. I was sure that it would never really come to anything, but that didn't keep me from opening up the files periodically, even at college, and reviewing them. I was sure that Ath did the same.
Of course, she was beautiful in motion or still. Boys (and girls) had noticed that. She dated, which worried me a bit. I told myself it was just my natural protectiveness, but she never really had time to go out with anyone more than once every two weeks, and for that reason, her relationships never seemed to work out. I always felt a guilty sort of relief when she told me that she'd broken up with someone, and I'd hug her, and she'd sit on my bed with me and cry a bit. It was never anything too serious, but even then, she knew that she was giving something up for the future.
I dated with some success. I lost my virginity in a fumbling way to a girl one year behind me in high school. Monica was lovely, and we did like each other a lot. When we broke up, it was kind of natural. She never liked Ath, though, which I found strange. Everybody liked Ath. A few months after we broke up, I got the courage to ask her why. Monica just kind of rolled her eyes.
"Your little sister isn't big on competition. Didn't you notice how she always wanted to hang out with us when we were at your house? Or sit between us when we were on the couch? Or find random reasons to interrupt us if we were in your room together? It was a little cute and a lot annoying. I don't really dislike her, but she has serious jealousy issues."
I was surprised and confused by this. I'd never once seen anything Ath had done from that perspective.
In any case, Ath focused on her dance, but her grades were almost always perfect. Mine were more irregular as my interest waxed and waned, which drove my Mom and Dad crazy. Her's stayed constant. She admitted to me later that she never wanted to give our parents any reason to stop her from going to her dance classes.
By the time I was in college, and she was in high school, she was performing in adult-level competitions and occasionally moonlighting for our nearest city's interpretive dance company. They were less formal than the kind of ballet school that she really wanted to get into, but our parents weren't going to let her skip the rest of her education to get ahead. This drove her insane, but she put up with it. Always diligent, always bright, always happy, she pushed forward. There was no doubt in any of our minds that she would be famous.
* *
Our grandfather Joel was the only one left out of our grandparents, the others having passed when we were very young. He was tall, burly, and had hair and a beard like a German philosopher. He was also much kinder than he looked. During the bad times, Athena and I had stayed with him for a week or two. Our family always left the city for the small university town where he lived every Christmas season, and he visited us quite often throughout the year.
Mom and her father had always been close, and he'd encouraged her to pursue the sciences when she'd shown interest. He was where she'd gotten her stubborn nature, and they consistently argued, if in a friendly way, whenever they got together.
Grandfather Joel loved Dad too because they were similar. They both were in the humanities, Joel teaching literature for most of his life at the local university. He was never overbearing or pretentious, and every visit, he would tell us stories from world mythology and folklore, making them come alive.
Joel especially loved to tell stories about our namesakes: Odin and Athena. Everyone knows the father of the Norse gods now thanks to the movies, and he was kind of a one-eyed jerk, but he was also wise and adventurous and could be both kind and ruthless. He traveled with two ravens and two wolves and rode a horse named Sleipnir, which had 8 legs. I kind of still hated my name, though, since even my friends would make fun of it from time to time.
Athena was the Greek goddess of wisdom, craft, and war. Craft not necessarily meaning art, but strategy and thought. She was graceful, clever, and dangerous. Ath loved her name, and at times I felt it a bit unfair that she got one that was more "normal" than mine. Honestly, she seemed more like the Graces and Muses to me than a warrior, but I was wrong about this.
I was wrong about a lot of things, as it turned out.
* *
I attended college "away" from home, but really it was a half-hour by public transport, in the downtown of a nearby city. I may have stayed at the dorms, but I came home once a week, at least, and always made sure to attend all of Athena's dance recitals. When my friends gave me shit for it, I told them that it was just how our family was and that I was expected to be there.
The truth was that I wanted to be there. I wanted to watch her dance and move and spin. I wanted to see how she would surprise us all, either as a lead or a supporting member of the troupe. I look back now, and I wonder. I wonder if things hadn't happened the way they had, would we still have been pushed together?
I don't know. I do know that she always looked forward to seeing me after every dance, and she hugged me first. I know that if I couldn't come home in a given week, that she'd come up and visit me for lunch or dinner. I know that she always asked me about my love life but never seemed disappointed that with my ambitious (some would say ridiculous) course load that I never had time to date seriously.
I also know that I spent more time looking at her figure. Noticing how she filled out, modest breasts curving through a perfect hourglass into lovely proportional hips. I saw how her eyes, always crys
tal blue, seemed to invite the observer to look more deeply. I noticed how her cupid's bow mouth complimented her elfin features, and how her dark brown hair poured over her shoulders.
I saw the confidence she had in her appearance, and the cleavage she showed in tank tops. She often wore tights when she visited me, and a lot of men frankly observed her without even bothering to conceal it. Once, when we were eating together, I got a guy checking her out and glared at him. The dude had the decency to blush and look away. Ath, always perceptive, saw my reaction.
"Does it bother you?"
"What?"
"How guys...you know...look at me? If it does, I can change how I dress when we meet."
I was kind of stunned. She was beautiful; gorgeous, even, and she dressed to accentuate her figure. But the clothes she wore were far from scandalous, and even if they were, I'd never ask her to change because guys couldn't make their eyes behave.
"No. Okay, yes, it bugs me sometimes. I mean, checking someone out is one thing, but just kind of leering and staring? That's fucked up. But no, I don't want you to change. You look incredibly sexy."
I immediately regretted the last sentence. There were so many words for beauty, but I'd chosen "sexy." Why? Fortunately, Athena smiled and blushed, looking away in a way that somehow managed to make her even more attractive.
That was when I realized that I had a problem.
* *
An attraction is just an attraction, though. If you don't act on it, it doesn't matter how weird it is. Right?
Yeah. That's what I told myself. I was lying, but it was easy. After my new self-awareness, I didn't hang out with Ath as much, and I'm sure she noticed. Fortunately, her schedule picked up, too. I still never missed one of her performances.
Things went like that until I got the call. It was late on Wednesday night. I had a mixed-media project due to be in a show early the next week, and I needed to make sure that all the audio and video worked properly for the installation. So I was at the Art Building when I got the call.
"Odin, It's your mother."
Her voice was more haggard than I'd ever remembered.
"Hey, Mom, what's up?"
"It's your grandfather," Mom said, "He collapsed today while he was walking. We're going to the hospital. Can you make it if we go ahead?"
It was at least an hour's drive to get to the small town where he lived, so I understood the question. Mom was torn. She wanted to wait for me, but she was afraid that if she got there late, he'd already be gone. It was obviously dire.
"Of course, I'll get my car and then drive out separately."
"Good. Thank you. We'll see you soon."
I kept my car at a long-term garage near the university. It wasn't free, but it was cheap for students. I had to put my project away first, and between that and the walk over, I didn't get started on the drive for another half hour. I got stuck in traffic, too, so by the time I pulled in to the hospital, I was about an hour behind my parents. I hoped that it wasn't the case.
I practically ran inside and, with the help of a merciful attendant, found my way to the ER waiting area. Mom was crying, standing up, and Dad was holding her. Athena sat near them, staring blankly. When she saw me, she teared up too.
I was too late.
* *
We stayed a little longer while Mom and Dad signed some paperwork. I sat next to Ath. When she reached out for my hand, I gave it to her. She leaned into my shoulder, and we were quiet for so long that I thought she had fallen asleep. When she spoke, it surprised me.
Don't feel guilty that you weren't here for it."
I smiled wanly.
"I should have put my stuff away faster, or just left it there. Or sped. Or something."
"No. You know him. There was nothing you could have done. And besides, he'd never want you to lose your work. You know that."
Our grandfather had never thrown away a single thing we'd made for him, and he was pretty infamous for living a minimalist lifestyle. It was true. Had he lived, he would have been the first in line to see my installation. He might not have liked it, but any criticism would have been constructive in nature.
"I still wanted to say goodbye."
As she was still leaning into me, I felt rather than saw Athena shake her head.
"We didn't get to either. Not really. He was hallucinating, we think. He was shouting. It didn't make much sense to me, but Mom thought it was about when grandma died."
"What was he saying?"
"'Don't take her yet. It's not right.' Over and over. He was afraid and angry. He did see us then, I think. He just sort of settled back and closed his eyes. He was gone just like that. I thought he was asleep."
I shuddered. Something about her story chilled me. I was suddenly glad in a guilty way that I was not there to witness his passing. I put my arm around Athena, without thinking. She cuddled into me, eagerly, leaning her head on my chest.
Admittedly, at a time like this, that was appropriate.
At least I didn't jerk away guiltily when Dad came back into the waiting room.
"Where's Mom?"
Athena was worried. I could tell that this had her spooked. She wanted to know where her loved ones were at all times. I couldn't blame her. Dad sighed.
"She's on the phone with family and filling out forms. She sent me out here. The funeral probably won't be for weeks. Some people will want to come who live in Europe and even Asia. Joel has...had friends all over the world. Your mother wants to give them time to arrive. We're going to have to stick around for a while at Joel's house. I'll go back tomorrow and get us clothes and things, but you two don't need to stay."
"But we want to!"
Athena spoke for both of us, so I simply nodded. Dad shook his head.
"No. I don't mean this to be cruel, but I know Odin has a project due next week, and in two days you have your audition."
"Audition," I said, feeling slow and stupid, "what audition?"
Athena looked at me, and there was, for a moment, a hint of guilt. But why?
"The Kilsgaard School in Sweden. They've sent some of their instructors around to some of the big cities in the US. Limited auditions by invite only. I...got an invite."
I smiled a little at the news, despite the circumstances. I'd never heard of the school, but if it had invite-only auditions, then it must be at least prestigious. I had no doubt that she could get in.
"Grandfather would never want you to miss that on his behalf," I said, and Dad nodded. It was merely the truth. He'd rather we skip his funeral than miss out on real opportunities. We wouldn't, of course, but getting Athena home where she could rest well seemed suddenly very important.
"Will you take Athena home and get her settled before you go back to your dorm?"
Dad asked the question so directly, and I just nodded, knowing that I couldn't leave her alone tonight. I forced myself not to think beyond the immediate moment. I had to get her home, make sure she ate, and get her to bed. It was silly, in a way, because she could and would take care of herself. But it gave me something to focus on, besides my own need, suddenly escalated by the proximity of death.
No. I would ignore that smoldering spark. I would quench it in other ways, with other people, if I could, but later. For now, I would focus on the present. I would not take advantage of my little sister while she was vulnerable. Or ever.
* *
The drive home was quiet. I looked over, and Athena was leaning against the window of the car, passed out within minutes. God, she was beautiful like that. Even in the shapeless hoodie that she had on, even in the baggy jeans, her curves suggested themselves in the shifting light of the street lights. It would be easy to put a reassuring hand on her leg. It would probably even be welcomed, in the circumstances.
Athena shifted and made a small noise like a moan in her throat. I was suddenly aware of how hard I was, and I was then plunged into deep shame. What kind of sick brother would think those thoughts about his sleeping sister? Especiall
y on a night like tonight?
At least I was aware of my sickness now.
God, maybe it was good that she'd be going to Europe soon if the audition went well.
I swerved a little as that hit me. I hadn't considered it when she mentioned the audition, nor the way she'd looked away from me. She must know that she has a good chance of making it, but she hadn't told me. But we share everything. Oh. Oh, god.
Athena kept it from me. She must know. She must have figured out that I was attracted to her. She was smart, lord knows she was more intelligent than me. If she realized what I was like before I did...
I mean, there was no doubt that she loved me as a brother. Maybe this was her way of getting away from my attention but preserving our relationship.
But was she really leaving the country to get away from my unwanted interest? I couldn't let that happen. I mean, maybe she wanted to go to this school. It sounded terrific, and I bet she'd love Sweden. But...if she was going because of me...
God, no. I had to talk to her. To be perfectly honest and frank with her, and then I could offer to transfer somewhere else. If I got away, I could forget about...well, at least the sick parts of my affection for her. I hoped.
And if not, I'd be too far away to do anything about them.
By the time I got home, I had resolved to have a direct and open conversation with her. After the funeral. Now or even a few days from now was too soon. She needed space. Especially from her sick older brother.
When I pulled in to the driveway of our house, Athena stretched and yawned lazily, somehow looking like a model striking a pose, but much more natural.
"Thanks," she said.
"For what?"
"For driving me home, silly."
"Oh, of course."
"You...you don't have to be up early tomorrow, right? Thursdays you have off. Well, I mean, you work on stuff, I know, but you don't have..."