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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

As he walks by, Mike hears the woman reassuring the dog, telling it that they will be safe, that they will be home soon and have some nice doggie snacks and watch some television. Mike thinks about his father, who also spoke to animals. Actually, his father spoke to animals and children the same way, as if it made him a better man to get down on his hands and knees and bark or ask a four-year-old how he was doing at college. Jane found this hilarious and endearing. Mike never found it that funny.

Mike remembers the woman now. He remembers seeing her and her dog one morning, about a month after Lyle moved to Greenwich Street. It was a bad morning. Mike had spent the night with Jane at her parents’ apartment and had gotten an early call on his cell from his brother. Lyle was not doing well. He hadn’t been going to classes and hadn’t slept in several days—kept awake by terrible dreams. He hadn’t been out of the apartment. He said, cryptically, that there were too many conversations in his head. Bullshit movie line, Mike thought, but said he’d get downtown as soon as he could. And the woman and her dog had stolen the first cab he hailed.

Mike hadn’t been to see Lyle in more than a week, and that was part of the problem. Another lesson learned.

The shades were drawn and a the apartment smelled of thin cigarette smoke . There were piles of unwashed clothing on the floor. All the dishes were dirty and Lyle had been stubbing his cigarettes out in the sink. The television flashed silently.

Lyle had gone to sleep in his boxer shorts on top of the unmade the bed. His brother wasn’t heavy when he was a kid, or even before Mike went to Asia. He was always big, bigger than Mike, even, and framed in healthy musculature from a short lifetime of athletics. But in the last year he had become fat. This, almost more than anything else, was heartbreaking for Mike, to see his once lean and graceful brother perspire as he walked up stairs or breathe heavily as he ate. Lyle didn’t seem to care at all. His face though, remained lean, his square chin independent of his neck.