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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

Of course, their mother told them that public places were the province of the crazy and the lonely and the poor. After they graduated high school, Mike and Lyle never hung around in public places anymore. But now, passing St. Patrick’s, Mike thinks it might be good to stop there with Lyle, on their way back uptown.

73

The first time Mike actually spoke with Lyle after the house burned down, Lyle told him that he would find their third brother and make it right. Bring him to his senses, get him off the drugs. This was during Mike’s second visit to Pine Hill, with Jane waiting outside the room.

“And can’t you get me out of here, Mike?” Lyle said. “I mean, you know I didn’t do it.”

Mike was confused by this. But he told Lyle that everything would be okay, that it would all be better soon enough. He would get Lyle out.

“Good, Mike.” Suddenly Lyle’s anger was gone and in its place an almost blank sadness appeared. Mike had to turn away.

Good, Mike.

74

Mike sees a man pointing his bulky cell phone at the sky and realizes he is photographing the smoke. If it were two years ago, Mike would have wanted to take pictures too. He wanted to be a photographer for what seemed like his whole life, until he went to college. He remembers his first camera and the Christmas morning he got it, during the winter that the snow was so thick and heavy it was like fiberglass. It was the one Christmas morning there was no argument. The boys had raced down the stairs at the beach house hoping their parents would be in good spirits and for once they were. They sat next to each other in front of the fire drinking coffee and watching the boys tear through the wrapping. Mike received a camera from Margaret Burke White. Lyle received a guitar from Robert Johnson. The cards on the gifts were never signed Mom or Dad or Santa.

Mike photographed the whole morning. The first half of the roll was devoted to Lyle playing his new guitar. In the frames that came later, Mike’s attention shifted to their parents. Candid shots of their mother giving their father an expensive shoe horn and a silver watch. And then pictures of their father pulling a long box out from under the couch. Finally, a picture of their mother grinning and sighting down the barrel of her new rifle.

“It’s exactly right,” she said, cocking the Winchester. “Just the noise will scare anyone off. I don’t even need bullets.”

“No,” his father said, “if you have a gun, you should have bullets. Look in your stocking.”

Their mother had been complaining that sometimes when she was home alone she was afraid the house would be broken into. “Intruders, beware,” she said, reaching into the stocking and retrieving the box of cartridges.