Blood Brothers
Chapter 3
The time passed all too quickly…for me, at least. I could only imagine how Ms. Way was feeling, but in a way, I was also a little upset with her. She had seemed so strong to me, frail as she was; broken, but never defeated. Until that day.
I couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time I thought of it. The event replayed itself in my mind several times a day. I kept the poem close at hand, a constant reminder that I needed to tell someone. Every day for five months I told myself what I needed to do: march down to the police station and tell them what was going to happen in the future, though that future drew nearer with each passing day of my attempted self-persuasion.
During that time I made it a point to avoid her. That brought another cloud of guilt over me, but I felt I couldn’t face her without blurting out some detail of that day’s conversation. Sometimes I would see her walking up ahead of me, following her daily routine, and I would consider saying hello- only to remember what she had done. It was all I could do to keep the secret from the normal world; I knew I would fail completely at trying to hide something from her. She had a way of seeing through a person at first sight, and I knew it was purely because she had seen too much already.
Whether I stopped her for conversation never mattered in the long run. For all too soon, they were born.
I walked slowly along the sidewalk, chancing to look up at the thickly layered clouds every now and then. They seemed so heavily laden with rain, trapping the city in a bubble of humidity, that I wondered if they might fall out of the sky at any moment. ‘Thinking too poetically again,’ I mentally chided myself. It had been happening far too often recently. I caught myself daydreaming at least five times a day. It was starting to interfere with my routine, something that didn’t help. Now that I was finally employed at a publishing company, I had to focus all of my energy into my work. It was my only hope of ever becoming one of the editors.
A small, squeaking sound caught my attention from across the street. A shock ran through me as I realized it was Ms. Way, wheeling along a broken down stroller that was literally on its last legs. A high-pitched wail escaped from within, only to be silenced by her hushed voice. She stared down at the babies with a calm, quiet demeanor, though I knew the turmoil that must be lying underneath. Waiting to spill over and rain down on anything nearby, much like the clouds overhead.
Instead, she sang a soft lullaby to them and kept them still. I listened carefully and tried to remember as many of the words as I could.
“Only mine until
The time comes ‘round to pay the bill...
Then I’m afraid
What can’t be paid
Must be returned.
You never, ever learn
That nothing’s yours
On easy terms...” She sighed sadly at the end of the soft, slow verse. I waited until it was safe to cross the street. She was too entranced by her own song to notice my appearance, as far as I could tell.
“Only for a time,
I must not learn to call you mine.
Familiarize that face, those eyes;
Make future plans that cannot be confirmed.
On borrowed time, on easy terms…”
I continued to listen to her words, noting how deliberate and unhurried her pace had become. Delaying the inevitable.
“Living on the never never,
Constant as the changing weather,
Never sure who’s at the door,
Or the price I’ll have to pay.
Should we meet again,
I will not recognize your name.
You can be sure
What’s gone before will be concealed.
Your friends will never learn
That once we were on easy terms…”
We reached the Iero mansion in a matter of minutes, minutes that passed too quickly to seem normal. She stopped outside the double doors, and I felt I knew why. The song wasn’t finished yet.
“Living on the never never,
Constant as the changing weather
Never sure who’s at the door
Or the price I’ll have to pay…” She let out one final sigh and steadily walked up the path, carrying the stroller carefully with crystalline tears forming in her eyes. I remained a safe distance away, facing the other side of the street, interested in nothing except the conversation echoing through the thick air, just off to my left. The doors swung open within seconds, and I took a sideways glance toward them. Mrs. Iero stood there with a shocked look on her face.
“They’re born!” she exclaimed in a whisper, careful not to awaken the children from their slumber. Ms. Way nodded solemnly, never removing her deep, untrusting eyes from their faces.
“You didn’t notify me,” she continued crossly. Ms. Way began to stutter.
“Well, I…it’s just…couldn’t I keep them? Just for a few more days? Please? Please?” she begged. Her voice grew weaker with each passing word. “They’re a pair…they go together-”
“My husband is due back tomorrow, Ms. Way,” Mrs. Iero said abruptly. “I must have my baby. We made an agreement, a bargain. You swore on the Bible.” The words seemed to fall through the air and land on the step beneath her feet, clad in her ever-expensive shoes. Ms. Way gave a defeated sigh.
“You’d better see which one you want then.”
And even after all this time, I couldn’t believe it.
“I’ll take-”
“No, don’t tell me which one. Just take him, take him!” the children’s real mother cried.
I looked away.
I knew she had to have seen me by then, but she showed no response to my presence. She simply continued walking, now only humming the melody to herself. The words escaped soon after and made themselves known once again, too powerful to be kept silent.
“Living on the never never,
Constant as the changing weather
Never sure who’s at the door
Or the price I’ll have to pay
Should we meet again…”
I followed her again. She arrived back at her house with tear-filled eyes and a broken stroller wheel. She walked through the decrepit door and placed the baby in his cradle. He stirred and let out a soft cry that broke my heart. He sounded lost, desperate…longing.
The other children were soon awake.
“Where’s the other twin, mom?” Eliza questioned. Her voice seemed to have matured, but she still sounded so young, too young to understand.
“Yeah, I thought there were supposed to be two of ‘em!” exclaimed Gerard. I almost laughed at the tone of his voice. Trying to sound tougher than he really was. Ms. Way quickly hushed them.
“He’s up in heaven, children,” she said tearfully. “Up with God and the angels, in the finest house that could ever exist.”
Time passed, and I soon found myself back at my own home. I didn’t remember a single second of the long walk back. Too distracted, I suppose. I turned on the radio for the sole purpose of background noise as my hand found its way to pen and paper once again.
How swiftly those who’ve made a pact
Can come to overlook the fact,
Or wish the reckoning be delayed,
But a debt is a debt,
And must be paid.
I couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time I thought of it. The event replayed itself in my mind several times a day. I kept the poem close at hand, a constant reminder that I needed to tell someone. Every day for five months I told myself what I needed to do: march down to the police station and tell them what was going to happen in the future, though that future drew nearer with each passing day of my attempted self-persuasion.
During that time I made it a point to avoid her. That brought another cloud of guilt over me, but I felt I couldn’t face her without blurting out some detail of that day’s conversation. Sometimes I would see her walking up ahead of me, following her daily routine, and I would consider saying hello- only to remember what she had done. It was all I could do to keep the secret from the normal world; I knew I would fail completely at trying to hide something from her. She had a way of seeing through a person at first sight, and I knew it was purely because she had seen too much already.
Whether I stopped her for conversation never mattered in the long run. For all too soon, they were born.
I walked slowly along the sidewalk, chancing to look up at the thickly layered clouds every now and then. They seemed so heavily laden with rain, trapping the city in a bubble of humidity, that I wondered if they might fall out of the sky at any moment. ‘Thinking too poetically again,’ I mentally chided myself. It had been happening far too often recently. I caught myself daydreaming at least five times a day. It was starting to interfere with my routine, something that didn’t help. Now that I was finally employed at a publishing company, I had to focus all of my energy into my work. It was my only hope of ever becoming one of the editors.
A small, squeaking sound caught my attention from across the street. A shock ran through me as I realized it was Ms. Way, wheeling along a broken down stroller that was literally on its last legs. A high-pitched wail escaped from within, only to be silenced by her hushed voice. She stared down at the babies with a calm, quiet demeanor, though I knew the turmoil that must be lying underneath. Waiting to spill over and rain down on anything nearby, much like the clouds overhead.
Instead, she sang a soft lullaby to them and kept them still. I listened carefully and tried to remember as many of the words as I could.
“Only mine until
The time comes ‘round to pay the bill...
Then I’m afraid
What can’t be paid
Must be returned.
You never, ever learn
That nothing’s yours
On easy terms...” She sighed sadly at the end of the soft, slow verse. I waited until it was safe to cross the street. She was too entranced by her own song to notice my appearance, as far as I could tell.
“Only for a time,
I must not learn to call you mine.
Familiarize that face, those eyes;
Make future plans that cannot be confirmed.
On borrowed time, on easy terms…”
I continued to listen to her words, noting how deliberate and unhurried her pace had become. Delaying the inevitable.
“Living on the never never,
Constant as the changing weather,
Never sure who’s at the door,
Or the price I’ll have to pay.
Should we meet again,
I will not recognize your name.
You can be sure
What’s gone before will be concealed.
Your friends will never learn
That once we were on easy terms…”
We reached the Iero mansion in a matter of minutes, minutes that passed too quickly to seem normal. She stopped outside the double doors, and I felt I knew why. The song wasn’t finished yet.
“Living on the never never,
Constant as the changing weather
Never sure who’s at the door
Or the price I’ll have to pay…” She let out one final sigh and steadily walked up the path, carrying the stroller carefully with crystalline tears forming in her eyes. I remained a safe distance away, facing the other side of the street, interested in nothing except the conversation echoing through the thick air, just off to my left. The doors swung open within seconds, and I took a sideways glance toward them. Mrs. Iero stood there with a shocked look on her face.
“They’re born!” she exclaimed in a whisper, careful not to awaken the children from their slumber. Ms. Way nodded solemnly, never removing her deep, untrusting eyes from their faces.
“You didn’t notify me,” she continued crossly. Ms. Way began to stutter.
“Well, I…it’s just…couldn’t I keep them? Just for a few more days? Please? Please?” she begged. Her voice grew weaker with each passing word. “They’re a pair…they go together-”
“My husband is due back tomorrow, Ms. Way,” Mrs. Iero said abruptly. “I must have my baby. We made an agreement, a bargain. You swore on the Bible.” The words seemed to fall through the air and land on the step beneath her feet, clad in her ever-expensive shoes. Ms. Way gave a defeated sigh.
“You’d better see which one you want then.”
And even after all this time, I couldn’t believe it.
“I’ll take-”
“No, don’t tell me which one. Just take him, take him!” the children’s real mother cried.
I looked away.
I knew she had to have seen me by then, but she showed no response to my presence. She simply continued walking, now only humming the melody to herself. The words escaped soon after and made themselves known once again, too powerful to be kept silent.
“Living on the never never,
Constant as the changing weather
Never sure who’s at the door
Or the price I’ll have to pay
Should we meet again…”
I followed her again. She arrived back at her house with tear-filled eyes and a broken stroller wheel. She walked through the decrepit door and placed the baby in his cradle. He stirred and let out a soft cry that broke my heart. He sounded lost, desperate…longing.
The other children were soon awake.
“Where’s the other twin, mom?” Eliza questioned. Her voice seemed to have matured, but she still sounded so young, too young to understand.
“Yeah, I thought there were supposed to be two of ‘em!” exclaimed Gerard. I almost laughed at the tone of his voice. Trying to sound tougher than he really was. Ms. Way quickly hushed them.
“He’s up in heaven, children,” she said tearfully. “Up with God and the angels, in the finest house that could ever exist.”
Time passed, and I soon found myself back at my own home. I didn’t remember a single second of the long walk back. Too distracted, I suppose. I turned on the radio for the sole purpose of background noise as my hand found its way to pen and paper once again.
How swiftly those who’ve made a pact
Can come to overlook the fact,
Or wish the reckoning be delayed,
But a debt is a debt,
And must be paid.