It's early evening, just dark enough for the street lights to flicker on and bathe the world in a hazy glow that presents more as eerie than utilitarian. Such is the place upon which I drive deep into the night all by my little lonesome. A low, heavy metal sound begins to play inexplicably. My head bumps with the music, then my brain catches up with the rest of me.
It's my cell phone, ringing away in my pocket, giving quite the concert for the delight of all who stand within my proximity, even though I'm the only one listening. I turn on my blinker and pull to the side of the road. I absolutely refuse to deal with a cell phone when I'm driving. I open the antiquated flip phone and see I had a new text message. It's from my younger brother.
I open the message. "Come over," is all it said.
I press the speed dial option and hold the receiver a few inches from my ear.
The line opens. "Dude you have got to learn to text," my brother's voice comes over the phone.
"Yeah well, I don't like it," I respond and adjust my seat.
"That's only because you can't type for shi-" my brother returns.
"Ah, ah." I interject before he can finish the curse while waggling my finger as though he could see the gesture.
"Ship. I was going to say ship," he insists in a half-hearted fashion.
"Sure you were," I shoot back and cock my head to the side.
"Where are you?" my brother asks.
"I'm on my way home," I answer as I look around my vicinity. "I'm just passing the factories."
"Well forget that and come on over," he persists in his cause.
"Why?" is my curt response and I notice the fog on my window turning to water.
"Because I, that is, oh," he trips over his words. "Just come on and stop being a whiny little bi-"
Again I interject and waggle the finger again. "Ah, ah."
"Biscuit. I was going to say biscuit," my brother mockingly defends his choice of words. "You know, you really need to stop that. People curse."
"Yeah, well I don't," I inform him of facts he already knows and stretch my back some. "And I'd prefer not to hear it."
"Anyway," he resumes. "Just come on."
"Is she there?" my brother doesn't need anymore description to know I'm talking about his girlfriend and I take a swallow.
"She is," he admits. "But come on anyway."
"You know I can't," I reply to his seeming command while my mind thinks back to the last time I was introduced to a girl. It did not go well.
"Yes you can," my brother presses. "Look, you're in control. Besides if you don't I'll just fill your messages with creative internet images of sick sh, I mean stuff."
The conversation doesn't need to continue. I know my brother and that's no threat, that is a promise. I surrender. "I'm on my way," I breathe and sit forward some.
"Good," is all he says. See ya soon. Bye."
The line goes dead. I close the phone and slide it back in my pocket. I check myself in the mirror, I'm already starting to perspire. I activate my turn signal's other direction and pull back on the road. It will take me at least forty minutes, plenty of time to suffer. I wipe the beads of sweat from my head.
"So, your younger, yet more successful brother called you over, did he?" the voice is coming from me, but it isn't me.
"Yes," I reply simply and take a quick glance in the rearview mirror at how hard my eyes have become..
"And like the trained doggy you come when called," the other voice observes.
"Something like that," is my dismissive response as I take a turn.
"When do you plan on growing a backbone?" the other voice queries.
"It's on back-order," I return in jest and give a chortle.
A moment of silence, not long enough.
"You know she's going to be there," my other self carries on.
I nod. "That's okay," I lie and grip the steering wheel tighter. "I can deal with it."
"Liar. Look at your hand," the other voice points out. "You're already starting to shake."
I don't need to look, to know it's true. "I'll be okay," I further lie while avoiding eye contact in the mirror.
"Sure you will," the other voice speaks in sarcastic fashion. "Just like the last time."
"I'm not going to talk about it," I wave off the unwanted memory and take a steady breath in. "I've improved since then."
"Have you?" the voice presses incredulously. "Well, I hadn't noticed."
"You don't see everything," I challenge the quiet force that lives in me and breathe out.
"Just most things," the other voice replies to my challenge.
The conversation is over. I have arrived at my destination. I walk the long flight of stairs to my brother's penthouse apartment. I could have taken the elevator, but I need the exercise. I knock on the door.
"It's open," my brother replies from within.
I stand in place, a smile spread across my lips.
Several moments elapse. "That means come in," my brother elaborates.
I knew what he meant, but I prefer people invite me rather than issue a statement of fact.
I open the door wide. The room is pitch black, save for the beams shining from the hall and I can swear there's something or someone there.
"What's going on?" I enquire as I search the inky blackness for something familiar. "Why's it dark?"
"Shut the door," my brother calls out.
"Then it will be completely dark," I observe and continue my search as my eyes start to adjust.
"Just do it," is his impatient response.
I don't know what my brother has in store, but I'm not afraid of the dark. I close the door and it locks automatically.
My hand tenses. "Why did the door lock?" I ask as I pierce the depths.
"It does that," my brother responds.
"Okay, so why is it still dark?" I press, feeling a bit unnerved by the strange situation.
"It is?" my brother said, as though he's unaware. "Hold on, I'll fix it."
Light fills the room.
"Surprise!" exclaims the gathered mass before me.
I go pale. My eyes dilate. Sweat accumulates over every inch of my body. I freeze solid beneath the gaze of what has to be a hundred people. I don't recognize anyone. Then a familiar face breaks from the assembly and heads toward me. It's her, my brother's girlfriend.
I want to scream. To curl into a ball and make all the people go away. My eyes remain fixed upon the scenario that I refuse to believe is real. Step by step, my brother's significant other ascends the small set of stairs that lead to the front door and me. With a smile on her face she throws her arms around me.
"So glad you could make it," she says and gives me a squeeze.
My muscles tense and I swallow hard.
The embrace lasts for an eternity. Then it stops, suddenly, and I'm displayed before the assembled crowd. "Everyone," my brother's girlfriend addresses the assembled mass and keeps an arm on my shoulder. "This is Johnny's brother, Carl."
There's an eruption of applause. I tighten my toes and gnaw desperately on my tongue, both actions remain concealed from everyone.
"These," she speaks directly to me and looks deep into my eyes. "Are all the people you've been dying to meet."
Slowly my brain clicks back on and I begin to notice faces. Authors, artists, musicians, even movie stars. I know my brother is successful, but I didn't know that his influence extended this far. Also, I would have taken issue with my brother's girlfriend over the words 'dying to meet'. Sure I wanted to meet these people, but not like this. Perhaps one on one. Not all at once.
I'm led down the stairs and to my surprise find that I give no resistance, despite my sweating so bad my shoes feel completely waterlogged. My brother waits at the bottom step, but he had not been there before. At least, I don't think he was. I need to be careful, hallucinations are never a good sign with my condition. He claps me on the shoulder.
I lower my head toward his. "What the hell are you doing?" I spit low as I return to the moment.
"Ah, ah," he chides me and pats my chest. "You shouldn't swear."
"I'm going to do a lot more than that if you don't answer me," I hiss at him and stare daggers upon his person.
"Look, this is all for you," he assures me and splays his hand wide.
I don't see the benefit of the experience.
"You want to be a writer don't you?" he challenges me and squares my shoulders.
I don't say anything. I know where he's going.
"Well, you're going to have to get used to things like this," he informs me and pats my shoulder. "Just relax and have a good time."
I capitulate. There really is no other option since my brother is involved. The whole night I meet and speak with guests, all the while my other self smiles mockingly from the corner of my mind. Counting all the minutes second by second.