The older brother ran and found a pole in the center of the maze. It was like a fireman's pole and it went down a floor. He hopped on and slid down. With an onset of panic, he realized that the pole descended deeper than he anticipated. He fell past 3 levels, each with new mirrors, and fell into a pit. There were 6 more doorways, each lined with mirrors. The maze, being larger than he anticipated, grew exponentially. It expanded outward and there was no telling how many directions he could go in. Now it engulfed him and the billions of other selves, and even his reflections seemed to be reflections of other reflections of other reflections. He began running, reaching one dead end after another until he lost his bearing completely.
Outside, the younger brother emerged. He held his hand over his arm where a dark bruise was already brewing under his skin like a tropical depression. This was the moment the younger brother would not forget. He turned his back to his older brother and never saw him again. His parents asked him what happened. The police arrived. Dread chilled the air.
The other way he remembered his older brother's disappearance was set during the fall. They were on a swerving road, with sharp s-curves and slopes rising and falling so steeply that the earth seemed to be heaving. There was a forest on both sides of the car and the air was cool and smelled sweetly of moss.
They pulled over to the side of the road, his father with a large net on the end of a long pole for picking fruit, and his mother with a small, white plastic bucket. They were all going to pick something off the trees. Apples, maybe. Or plums. This was not clear to him.
His brother gave him a small plastic bag and pointed him off to a clearing in the forest. They all stepped off the road and descended into the shadowy gathering of trees. He followed his older brother but his brother held his hand out. "Go your own way," he demanded. Damselflies hovered about. Mosquitos began to take root along his forearm. He slapped at them, leaving bloody smears along his wrist. He looked up and saw his brother bounding deeper into the forest. He could see the yellow shirt and red shorts, and his plastic bag ballooned with the rush of air, leaping and landing. He disappeared behind one tree and reappeared from behind another, bright against the dense green shadows. He disappeared and reappeared until he was no longer visible and he never emerged again.
The older brother ran into the forest until he could no longer see or hear his family. Trees upon trees upon trees. He was surrounded by mud, strange creaking sounds, snapping branches, a strange caw. His pulse flooded his ears.
The younger brother turned his back. It was the last time he saw his older brother. His parents called out for hours with their hands cupped over their mouths and their brows knit furious with worry. They wanted to destroy the forest with their calls, to demolish it flat, but the forest was unyielding. Finally, a police car arrived.
The third way he remembered it was set at the beach.
Waves. They were swimming in the shallows of the kiddie pool, protected by a wall of rocks. They explored the holes under the porous rock formations and chased a small striped eel into a burrow. Waves exploded against the rocks creating cascading waterfalls under which they could hide and vanish. They chased angel fish with nets and threw sand at each other.
The older brother started to swim out past the rocks. He was able to tread water, but the younger brother had yet to learn. "Come back!" he yelled. He slowly waded after him. The water was up to his waist, then up to his chest and the gentle pressure of the water surrounding his neck caused him to panic. He lost the net and swallowed water. He pushed back to regain his footing on the soft bed of sand. He screamed for his older brother, but the waves were too tall, and they obscured his line of vision.
He regained his footing, and started wading back to the shallows behind the rocks. He climbed on, cutting his foot, and started running along the black jagged stone, looking over to the horizon for his older brother. The beach was large, and every small step in the water seemed monumental, and he could not gauge the distance at which his brother left him. Was it over there by the sandbar? Was it right there, just a few feet away? Where did the sand drop off? How far had he waded before he was forced to turn back?
Around him, other children screamed and splashed about. Then his mother called to him "Where is your older brother? Where's Chad?"
Were these dreams, these memories? Was there any solid truth to them?
* * *
Twenty five years later, Levi sat at his office answering a final batch of emails regarding a photo shoot. As the art director of a first year magazine, he was having difficulty setting the visual tone. He had yet to forge a relationship with a single photographer, and he had yet to galvanize his team.
The phone rang, and he answered it with one hand while typing with the other. It was his father. "We found him... your brother," he said. His voice was worn thin, as if he had been crying. He sounded exhausted. His voice sagged and drooped over the line. "Actually, he found us. He's here at my house. But he won't stay long. Come over as soon as you can."
Levi drove 20 miles to his father's house. He pulled up into the gravel driveway and saw that his mother's Pontiac was there as well. He had not seen his parents in the same space since his cousin Charlie's wedding years ago. They had divorced shortly after Chad's disappearance - neither one of them willing to accept blame, nor forgive one another.
He walked up the wooden steps, and his shoes clomped heavily. He walked into the house, and it smelled faintly of lemon. His mother, with her short, silver hair sat on one the end of a flower patterened sofa, and his father, bloated, tired and resigned stood up to greet Levi.
"Come in," he said. "Have a seat." The air was that of a recent death. It was rare that there was ever a ressurrection, who knew if this was a fitting reaction?
On the green recliner sat Chad. He was thirty five now, lean and healthy. He stood up immediately, walked over to Levi and gave him a firm hug. He gripped him along side both arms and held him there. "I remember you," he said brightly.
This shocked Levi. The strangely angled sound of his older brother's voice, now as leveled and matured as his own rattled him and made his heart squirm. He could faintly see his younger/older brother's childhood eyes under the roughened sun damaged skin and fine network of wrinkles. What shocked him more was accent. It was French. Or Italian. He could not be sure. "This is for me, a heart wrenching moment. My brother! Do you remember me?"
"Chadwick," said Levi to himself, as if in remembrance. It was as if that word had been stuck in his throat for decades. "Chad," he said, this time to the world. "It's you."
"Levi," whispered Chad. "You have aged well. My god. I have always wondered of you!"
"Mirrors," repeated Levi. "Do you remember them? The mirrors?"
"Of course of course!" Chad exclaimed, cheerfully now. "The house of mirrors. Such fun. You were terrified!"
They all laughed awkwardly at this hazy memory. "House of mirrors?" asked his mother. "When was that?"
"At the garden. There was a small..." began Levi, but then he stopped. His heart began beating irregularly.
His father wiped the tears from his eyes. "Well," he began. "It was just a knock on the door, like any other day, and there he was. He found me first. It took some explaining, and I still don't understand. But it's him. Chad. Your brother. Our eldest son."
"Is it?" retorted Levi, taking a step back.
"I find father first in phonebook," Chad started. It sounded like a question. It was the way he enunciated and tilted his words. "I find all of you after many years of searching. I come to you from France. From France, then to Venice for past five year, saving money. I inherit a gondola from a distant relative."
"We don't have a distant relative living in Italy," interrupted Levi.
"Ah," Chad responded apologetically. "Distant relative of family I live with for many years. So. I work as gondolier. How funny, that I should find myself there. I save. The city sank a hair every year, I save a hair every year. Then I travel to America to visit. To find you. And I have! But I must return after today."
"Why not stay longer?" asked his mother. She looked at him in disbelief. This was her son. This was not her son. This was her son. Echoes of heartache rippled across her face – a look no son ever wanted to see.
"I must go. Regretfully, it took me longer than expected to find you. I am here three weeks. I have many address and phone number and all of them mistake. I search again on computer in library. Frantically for past few days. I am lucky I find you, even on my last day." he said, sadly.
"Just stay. We'll pay for your ticket back another day. Stay with us," begged his father. He began to sob again. Chad embraced his parents. They wept together, whispering into each other's ears. "Stay longer," his mother pleaded, her voice an erratic violin.
"I am sorry. My family. But I have to go. Of course, I will be back. But for now, I have my obligations back home. I have my life back in Venice. I get married next year. It would be wonderful if you could come. And of course, for us to visit you again."
Levi paced about the room, unwilling to accept anything. "Do you remember the beach?" he asked.
"Of course. Our childhood! Yes!"
"Do you remember the forest?" his lower jaw pulsed.
"Of course! All those summers! The cold, green chill! We love it!"
Levi was filled with rage. "Where the hell have you been?" he screamed. Saliva erupted from his lips and hung down over his chin, his jaw set like a barracuda's. "All these years!"
Chad rose from his parents embrace and fixed the collar on his shirt – a shallow gesture of vanity in such a situation as Levi saw it. "People disappear all the time," said Chad, as if to justify and soften his disappearance as something as cruel and crass as a simple fact of life. "Life is evil. And people are weak to it."
"How dare you," growled Levi.
"He explained everything," his father said. "He was taken."
"He was taken from us, and forced to live with another family," wept his mother.
"Then he was brought to an orphanage," said his father. "He only spoke english. He doesn't remember where he was taken to. He doesn't remember what country."
"I am ashamed to have been so docile," said Chad. "I was afraid. They promised they would let me come home, and lied. They promised me pain if I did not comply. When I outgrew my naivete, it was too late. I was in a dark space. But I was moving. I don't understand how I was taken, from one country to another. But when I saw light, I was in a country that did not understand my cries. I was a prisoner without bars. And the rest, before the orphanage, was murderous and vile. I cannot speak of it. It is. Was. Unspeakable. But I grew. I ran. There was blood on my hands. There was strange policemen. I cannot recall through all this haze in my head. But it was like a dream. I found another family. They loved me. They had no idea. I had gone into a phase of silence. I was broken. I could not speak. Would not speak. They thought me mute. And for a time, I was. But I grew stronger. I find my way back to the living. Still, I could not bring myself to return home. I was afraid. I was afraid of the sorrow. I cause so much sorrow. More years pass by, and finally, I gain courage enough."
His mother rushed over, weeping, and embraced him. His father stood up, his mouth wide open, eyes wet with tears, and held them both. "We thought you were dead," he sobbed.
"I am sorry!" Chad broke down and wailed in sudden, complete devastation. "I am sorry you suffer!" He howled into his father's chest and pounded relentlessly on his shoulder with gnarled, inconsolable gasping. He fell to his knees and held his hands over his head as if he were being beaten. "Forgive me my weakness!" His face gushed with fluids that dribbled down his chin and his cheeks to the floor. His parents fell onto him, their faces gone slack with serenity. "It's not your fault," they whispered. "You're here with us now."
Levi walked over to them and knelt. He could not clearly remember his brother's disappearance, but he would clearly recall this; the return of a brother; the return of a stranger. Soon he would be gone again. Off in a cab, or a limo, or a van. He would keep on disappearing as he had been doing for the duration of Levi's entire life – gone from the beach, from the forest, from his father's living room. At this age, the fourth way his brother disappeared became more complex. It included his return. The way he remembered it – Levi lowered his hand to Chad's shuddering back. Slowly... carefully... as if not to disturb the ashes of the dead, he embraced him.
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