“Mother, Mother! Tim’s getting clobbered!” Sprinting through the front door I blurted the news. My mom’s face showed both alarm and puzzlement. Tim? Fighting? My brother survived the fracas. But
“Mother, Mother! Tim’s getting clobbered!”
Sprinting through the front door I blurted the news. My mom’s face showed both alarm and puzzlement. Tim? Fighting?
My brother survived the fracas. But the image itself seemed crazy. Regardless, an oversized bully at school had spotted a random kid. Classes had ended for the day. The random kid was my brother. The bully pounced.
Actually Tim did fight throughout the years. Though not in a fist-swinging way. He fought throughout most his lifetime, with unassuming valor.
Tim’s main fighting was to do with goodness. Indeed, he simply fought to be a good person. To those near him, his struggles toward goodness hardly appeared as struggles at all. He just “breathed” the virtue – or so it seemed to me – his kid brother who more typically breathed mischief. Often this kept me a little off-balance.
Our dad once suspected us of cigarette smoking and drew me aside for a little chat. “Jerry, do you boys sometimes smoke?”
“Mm, well, I think Tim might.” Mischief. But I idolized my big brother. We were little when I overheard mother say to a friend, “Tim doesn’t eat tomatoes. . . he also dislikes coconut and, oh yes, pineapple.”
This was intel enough for me. If Tim shuns those things there is good reason for it. “Mom can mark them off her grocery list.” I did acquire a taste for all three foods later in life. Once I sampled them.
To whatever measure they may have troubled him, Tim went to war against impoliteness, rudeness, discourtesy and the like. Years after our childhood days I heard him reveal to his Pinole Valley Bible class, “A practice in our home is we save the command to ‘shut up!’ for only addressing our dog.”
I admired him. I envied him. I was ticked with him. Why did my brother need to be so pleasant, so compliant. So stinkin’ good?
“Maybe I could learn a thing or two.” Unpleasant thought.
©2018 Jerry Lout
In his pre-college years Jerry Lout schooled at Wilson Elementary, Preston High and O.S.U. Okmulgee. He writes memoir and reflections on living. Jerry authored “Living With A Limp”, from which this piece is edited ( Amazon.com ). Additional narratives are published at www.jerrylout.com. He may be reached at jerrylout@gmail.com
