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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

There was one night when everyone in his family went to jail except Mike.

Lyle went first. He was rarely drunk, but sometimes he took walks with a bottle of bourbon, late at night. He enjoyed how the cab headlights seemed to soften at 3 A.M., how the only people he saw on Fifth Avenue were couples coming home. He grew warm, with heavy steps. Have a swig, sit on the fountain in front of the Plaza, stroll into Central Park and take another swig. Sometime he brooded, especially if his parents had been crazier than usual, but usually he just allowed the city’s shapes to float in and out of his mind. He was careful to be discreet and he was lucky.

But that night he got picked up. Public urination, open container. Bad judgment, he knew. But man, he thought, you just have to go sometimes. Everything was so awful when he was drunk and arrested. Worst of all, his parents would have yet another fight over whose fault it was. Lyle looked so down in the yellow fluorescence of the precinct station that the desk sergeant told him, “Don’t worry, kid, it’s just a fine.”

Lyle knew that, just a fine, but when Mike came to pick him up at the station Lyle couldn’t stop apologizing.

“What a hassle,” he kept saying. “I know it’s not a big deal, but what a hassle. Sorry, Mike.” Mike didn’t want to hear it. He hated when his brother apologized.

Mike insisted on being there with Lyle to explain to their parents the next day.

The boys told their parents at the dinner table. Take-out pizza off fine plates with good red wine and candles, because their parents had just gotten back from Long Island. Mike felt sorry for his brother, who wolfed his pizza and slurped his wine. And Lyle felt worse for Mike because here he was about to wreck it all for his brother, when for once their parents looked OK, even cheerful around the table.

Lyle told them, and Mike added how the cop had said it was no big deal.

“You’re a good brother, Mike,” said his father. “I just hope you weren’t scared,” he said to Lyle. And it seemed that was all he would say.

Their mother shook her head, but she was smiling. Mike could see that she would have been angry at other times, but now she wasn’t. She almost laughed, and she said to Lyle how low-rent it all was.

“I know,” Lyle said “I’m really embarrassed. It’ll never happen again.”

“Oh, Lyle,” their mother said, “don’t worry about it. Your father went to jail for drunk driving last night.” And then she blew out all the candles and left the table.

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