Brother

Waits, who is 10, is responsible, integrous, empathetic. When he was in 1st grade he brought home his spelling test, and written in the margin in his 7 year old handwriting was “I cheaded on this one” with an arrow pointing to one of his spelling words. Gross, right. He often does his homework within an hour of getting home from school, takes a shower without being asked, puts his dirty clothes in the hamper. All of this is true. Last Friday we were walking into a gas station to get a slushee and on the sidewalk next to the gas station he found a dollar bill. I could see his head working through what else he could get at the gas station with an extra buck. He was tickled. Then, I shit you not, he walked up to the dude with the cup asking for spare change and dropped that buck into that man’s styrofoam cup, unprompted. Get out of here. I was thrilled, but not surprised, ‘cause that’s how this kid exists in the world.

Murphy, his younger brother who is 7, is probably on the roof right now doing a line of cocaine.

Murph lies with conviction, almost to the point of philosophical debate of what makes a thing false, what is truth, and what does “is” even mean?

I scrounge around for my unread copy of Heidegger’s “Being and Time” and smack Murph over the head with it. Did you feel that truth?

Murph is tender and charming and brimming with love. He often wears costumes to school, Willy Wonka or a tuxedo shirt, simply because he likes to dress up. He wants to be close, hates being alone, and never wants to go home. His pockets are filled with trinkets and treasures. On the last day of school he came home with a backpack full of toys that had been confiscated over the course of the year by his teacher. I even began patting him down before we left the house for school to get the contraband off of him, but he got onto me and started hiding small toys in the toes of his shoes. One time he told his teacher he had an accident in his pants. The school called me, I showed up with clean clothes, and wouldn’t you know it, no poop — just a kid who knew he’d get out of class for a bit.

I don’t advocate this behavior, and trust me we’ve had many talks, but I also kind of admire it all. I’m a good dad, not a great one.

The boys are day and night, pure first- and second-borns. And by some miraculous gift, they love each other and generally want to be at each other’s side. When they hate each, Waits has this fire energy like a phoenix, and Murph turns all Hannibal Lecter. Each will tell me how much they hate their brother and I’ll say yeah, it’s hard being an older/younger bro, and yeah, sometimes we hate our brother.

Of course they hate each other. Spite and contempt are threads woven into the textiles of brotherhood. Isn’t that what all of the myths and legends tell us? Romulus and Remus, Cain and Able, Eteocles and Polynices, Jacob and Esau. Read through the stories the Grimm brothers collected from German women in the early 19th century and you’ll see that brothers in conflict is a rich theme.

When they hate each other they are right in line with how things have been. The turn for my boys, one they are beginning to see, is that their anger is often ultimately about the fact that there has been an injustice, and injustices deserve good anger, and good anger leads to action. So I ask them, what will you do with this heat? A wrong has been committed against you, now what do you want to do? Can you sense that love is right there next to your hate, that you can feel both at the same time?

You want to punch your brother? Well, try it out I guess. See what happens. Tears come quickly when you are betrayed? Oh that’s so good my boy. Let those tears roll down your face. You want to shiv your brother in his leg with a sharpened stick? Ok well yeah I can see that but maybe slow your roll just a bit my dude — that might draw the attention of child protective services and I don’t have the bandwidth or the money for an attorney.

You’ve got cash flow for an attorney? Well, ok then - just don’t hit an artery.