FATAL

THE FATAL FLAW

Every family has its legends and mythology. Ours was no exception. Some of the stories about my grandparents had always seemed silly to me. But the assertions and claims about us were sacred texts, not to be violated or scoffed at. Stories that supposedly made us who we were, meant to define us as a family. For the most part they succeeded.

-Within our large group there was bound to be a hero among us. My two brothers and three sisters all grew up feeling proud of their superior emotional and intellectual birthright. After all, we came from great stock! It took years for us to realize our own hero had a fatal flaw. All of us took that eventual realization differently.

-Our parents were social activists so, from an early age, we followed. Naturally when we made statements that jibbed with what we were taught, we were praised for our insight, though sometimes it was just a broad smile and a nod. If we believed what they believed, we were told that it was wonderful that we knew how to think for ourselves and that we made them proud. When you are praised and coddled for following your parents’ lead . . . well, you keep to their rules and their worldview as if those views sprung from your own mind instead of theirs.

-I suppose it was natural that all of us looked up to our eldest siblings, Zeke and Samantha. They pretty much excelled at everything they did. Zeke was captain of the football team in high school. He was a star player. And not just that, he was also captain of the debate team. Samantha was a cheerleader and a true beauty. She was a straight A student and besides being one of the “popular people,” she had just as many friends who were nerds. My two younger sisters followed her everywhere and emulated every move. But there was a mixture of jealousy and resentment that flared up when Samantha started regularly dating a guy in her class. It wasn’t the same with me and my brother Hart when Zeke took girls out. We just thought he was too cool. No matter what, whenever they could, Zeke and Sam were ready to join my parents in any political marches or rallies.

-The best thing about my big brother though was that he always had my back. One time one of my classmates, Bubba Dinkin, started arguing with me about a local politician running for office. Bubba was bragging about how his dad and this guy were friends and how great he was. I said I thought the man running for office was a jerk and that he had some really bad ideas. Bubba got mad. His face turned bright red and he started shouting that I was an idiot and that my family had a reputation of being stupid bleeding hearts, and idiots too. Then he pushed me. So I punched him in the face. Bubba punched back and soon we were on the ground fighting. I got the upper hand and was sitting atop Bubba’s chest when someone grabbed me and pulled me off.

-Zeke put his hand on my back and led me away. “What the hell are you doing?” It was not really a question so I didn’t answer. We slowed down. Zeke stopped and turned toward me. I was already starting to feel bad about the fight but was surprised by Zeke’s expression. He looked as if he might start laughing. But I could see he was holding it in. He said, “Troy, we’re going home and you’re not going to tell anyone about this.”

-“But you should have heard what he was saying!”

-“It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in big trouble if Mom or Dad find out you've been fighting.”

-“But he was going on about how great Dean Carlson was and when I argued with him he said a lot of bad stuff about our family.”

-“You know how we feel about violence!”

-So we walked on. After a few minutes Zeke said, “I saw you pop him in the nose.” He chuckled. “Good punch. Sounds like he deserved it. Don’t ever repeat that though.”

-I smiled, glad he understood.

-“Your right eye is already starting to swell,” he said. “Just say you fell down.”

“They might not notice.”

“They’ll notice.”

-He was right. They didn’t fall for the “I fell” bit. That only made it worse. You know, taking personal responsibility and all that.

-The next year Zeke and Amanda enrolled in college. Both got into the same college on scholarship, which was no big surprise. All went well, as expected. However one night a few weeks later Mom got a call from the police.

-Apparently Zeke was in jail for assault. I happened to be at the kitchen table cramming for a test and heard Mom’s side of the conversation. “No, that isn’t possible. There must be a mistake.” Mom hung up the phone and called to Dad. She turned to me and said, “Don’t mention this to anyone, Sweetheart until we get this sorted out.”

-Zeke was our perfect sibling! I agreed with Mom. There was no way. A few minutes later both my parents got in the car and left.

-The guy that Zeke fought inexplicably dropped the assault charges. He had gone to the hospital but was only there for a couple hours. Zeke came home with my parents. He was too old for them to preach to but he told them it wasn’t as bad as the other guy said. Just a spat in which they’d both shoved each other around. He didn’t tell them what the argument was about. After an evening of a thousand questions everyone went to bed and Zeke bought a bus ticket and went back to the school.

-Amanda and Zeke came home during the last two days of spring break. Once again, I was in the kitchen during a conversation between her and our parents. This time I was eating a bowl of cereal with my science book open on the table beside me.

-“I’m sure the whole incident was just an aberration,” Dad said. “Zeke assured me that it wouldn’t happen again.”

-My sister shook her head. “But it will Dad. It will happen again. Zeke is out of control. This isn’t the first fight he has been involved in. He drinks with the guys and, eventually, he gets mean. My friends and I go to the same pub and I’ve seen it!”

-Mom said, “we’ve met his roommate, Matt. He seems like a real nice boy.”

-“Ugh, Matt,” she said with disgust.

“Why do you say it like that?” Dad asked.

“She studied her fingernails for a minute as if trying to decide how to answer. Finally she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

-“So you think these frat mates and Matt are a bad influence?” Mom asked

-“That’s just it,” Amanda continued. “They aren’t bad guys. I mean, sure they drink and get loud and annoying, but it is Zeke who gets belligerent and nasty.”

-After a pause, Amanda said, “and Matt is gay.”

-Mom and Dad looked at each other. Then Mom said, “we don’t judge people Amanda and I’m glad Zeke is his friend.”

-“Ugh,” Amanda repeated. “I’m not judging but his friendship with Matt is the problem! Zeke thinks it is his job to protect Matt . . . even when it is not necessary.” Amanda sighed as if she weren’t being understood. “That is why Zeke got into this last fight. The guy said something sort of insulting to Matt and it was as if Zeke was just looking for a reason to fight somebody.”

-There was a long silence. Finally Dad said, “I’ll talk to Zeke.” That was it -- end of conversation.

-Dad left for work and I immediately went to find Zeke. He was in his bedroom reading. He closed his book when I entered.

-“Hey dude,” he said, “I’m going downtown. You want to come?”

“Sure. I got something to tell you anyway.”

“Uh-oh. Bad news.”

-I laughed and we headed for the door. After he got on the road, I said, “Amanda was talking to Dad and Mom about you.”

-He suddenly looked serious. “What’d she say?”

-“It was about your fighting at school. She got them riled up and now Dad says he’s going to talk to you.”

-“Oh,” he shrugged. “I’m not worried. Dad hears what he wants to hear and I’ll let him hear it.” He looked over at me “So what have you been up to Buddy?”

-“I didn’t want to talk about myself so I said, “Oh, nothin,’ – Zeke, why do you get into fights?”

-“Look, kid, there are some real assholes at school. It is hard not to react – to just ignore them.”

-I was shocked by his language but I just nodded as if I understood the problem.

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-Zeke and Amanda returned to school and we didn’t hear much from them. Well, Amanda called twice a week, but Zeke didn’t bother.

- Besides the usual soccer practice and stuff at my school, nothing much was happening. I went to a couple of political rallies and marches with Dad. Mom took us all to a demonstration at the local college – I hated those things but that is what our family did. It seems like we were involved in every protest in within fifty miles of our house. All par for the course and it wasn’t until my senior year that something bad shattered everything.

-I came home from practice and everyone was sitting in the living room. Dad was white as a sheet and it looked like Mom had been crying. “What’s going on?” I said.

-Hart blurted out, “Zeke’s been arrested again!”

-“Quiet Hart!” Dad said and looked at me. “This time it is serious.” Dad added.

-“But Zeke told me he was done with fighting. Is that why he’s been arrested? -- fighting?”

-“Well, we’re not sure what happened,” Mom said, “but . . .” she

buried her face in her hands and started sobbing.

“Someone died,” Hart said.

“Hart!" Dad yelled. My heart raced. Dad rarely raised his voice and I knew this situation was really bad. Our hero had murdered someone.

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-We all sat through the trial which was an open and shut case. Zeke hadn’t simply got in a fight and accidentally killed someone. According to witnesses Zeke had mercilessly pummeled the man. The pub was a bloody mess. It was overkill.

-Although he was spared the death penalty, I knew I’d never see Zeke again outside of prison. It made me sick to my stomach. We were all heartbroken. At least I thought we all were. Time revealed that my two younger sisters were angry and basically disowned their heretofore beloved big brother. But there was only silence for a several months. We just didn’t speak of it. I knew my parents saw it all as a failure on their part. The crux of it being that their son committed murder supposedly over a religion or some damn spiritual principle! A contradiction, an unfathomable paradox, that was impossible for them to understand.

-In the ensuing years I visited my favorite brother about once a month. Sometime Hart went with me and I often saw Mom and Dad there in the waiting room. As far as I know my sisters, accept for Amanda, never went to see Zeke nor did they write to him. It was as if the boy we had all looked up to simply vanished. Hart eventually lost interest too. He visited every Christmas but his strange and juvenile pride in Zeke’s fighting in general died when he finally realized Zeke wasn’t coming back.

-It turned out that Matt, the college roommate, had been more than just a friend. I suspect this information which should not have fazed anyone in our family added a shadow to the already dark picture. Imagine Zeke a homosexual. The secrets he kept finally crippled the family mythology and left my parents, especially, wounded.

-Our family story, at least in my mind, resembled a Greek tragedy and the heartache and resentment that reverberated through our family was deep. The ancient Greeks had nothing on us once our hero’s fatal flaw was revealed.