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Back The Third Brother Save as PDF
Chapters (116)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by the Author
  3. The Third Brother
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. PART I
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. PART II
  67. 60
  68. 61
  69. 62
  70. 63
  71. 64
  72. 65
  73. 66
  74. 67
  75. 68
  76. 69
  77. 70
  78. 71
  79. 72
  80. 73
  81. 74
  82. 75
  83. 76
  84. 77
  85. 78
  86. 79
  87. 80
  88. 81
  89. 82
  90. 83
  91. 84
  92. 85
  93. 86
  94. 87
  95. 88
  96. PART III
  97. 89
  98. 90
  99. 91
  100. 92
  101. 93
  102. 94
  103. 95
  104. 96
  105. 97
  106. 98
  107. 99
  108. 100
  109. 101
  110. 102
  111. 103
  112. 104
  113. 105
  114. 106
  115. 107
  116. 108

I have eyes in the back of my head. It’s too strange to describe, seeing the world in two directions. I am on the blue motorcycle behind Harrison and we are speeding away, except this time, because of these extra eyes I have, I can see behind us as we go. First the lieutenant tells them to kneel, which Tweety’s brother does, but Tweety won’t. She starts fighting them, and it gives me hope for a moment, but then one of the cops whips her face with the butt of his pistol. As soon as she falls down they shoot her, and then they shoot the brother, who is still kneeling and has pissed himself. My normal eyes close, as I hear the pistol shots, but these awful eyes in the back don’t blink.

101

Dr. Hunt and I planned to meet at his office and then go somewhere else for coffee. I meant to arrive on time but I was late, like I’ve been late everywhere recently. I was reading the newspaper and got caught up in it, a story about a corrupt fire house. Practically a whole ladder company had fucked the same woman, and no one would take responsibility for the kid. When I noticed the clock, I knew I would have to run to Dr. Hunt’s office to make it on time. But I had decided, the moment I walked on campus this year, not to run anywhere. It’s never worth the loss of dignity to be running to class like some frazzled premed. So I walked to his office and was late.

Dr. Hunt’s door was open. He’s a senior professor, so his office has a window view out over the campus from the third floor of the English building. The room was full of yellow sunlight, like in a movie about college. It was midmorning and he was sitting at his desk making notes in a novel. The walls were neat bookcases and he said to please sit in the comfortable chair in the corner, not the wooden one in front of his desk.

I was burning up the whole time. I didn’t know what I would tell him and I feared that I was going to break down like some fourth-grader during his parents’ divorce. I was afraid that I was coming so that I could do that without meaning to. I was second-guessing my own intentions.

Dr. Hunt said we’d lucked out with such a beautiful day. I agreed. He asked me about the essay, the one I’m supposed to be writing. The one I should be writing now instead of chronicling all this for you. I told him the essay was fine, I’ve just been a bit of a mess myself.

Hunt nodded sympathetically.