2

He and his sister began to visit Older Brother every Saturday; it was like being with an extraterrestrial. On some of their earliest visits to the clinic a nurse led them to the garden, where he’d be waiting for them, dozing in the sun. He no longer told them anything about himself, just asked questions that they answered like people making a report, anxious to include every single detail to avoid the inevitable silence that would follow. After a while the conversation became almost natural, if somewhat mentally disordered.

Despite his hatred of his stepson, it was their father who had convinced their mother to let them visit. Five years after Older Brother entered the clinic their father sat him and his sister down and, with the help of a book about mental illnesses bought specifically for this purpose, explained their brother’s condition. The book had been placed on a shelf in the study as one more reference text. The very first meeting took place under the supervision of one of the medical staff, in a very hot room. The swollen, obtuse man his brother had become made him uncomfortable; he watched them without saying a word, then told them that one of the inmates was stealing his cigarettes and that he didn’t like having to take a shower in hot water. They walked around the garden in contrite silence; it took Older Brother over an hour to realize that his behavior was inappropriate. When they were saying goodbye, he gave them some muddled, disinterested recommendations, as though in some part of his hippocampus, family ties were struggling to get through but couldn’t find a foothold.