©062107

Brother

My oldest brother Walt, was four years old than me and always an enigma to the rest of the family. He was what you might call a loner. He liked people all right and he loved a good book but he much preferred his own company.
Walt was already a senior in high school by the time I reached the eighth grade and not only was he was on the cross country team but he was quite a good basket ball player too. Walt really only played basketball because he liked Mr. Grant who was the junior varsity and varsity basketball coach and was a much loved teacher at Ashland High School. Mr. Grant possessed a very dry wit and infinite patience and drinking secretly also helped him cope with all of his students and their problems.
It was only because of Walt that I passed eighth grade math. You see, Mr. Grant was also my math teacher and after tryin and failin numerous times to get me to comprehend simple math and compound fractions, he finally heaved in the towel. “Stevens,” he said in a hopeless voice to me. “If your brother Walt wasn’t such a good basketball player, I’d flunk you! As it now stands, I’m going to give you a C- and I sincerely hope you can find a career which doesn’t involve math of any kind!”
Walt stood about five feet ten and he had mother’s deep brown eyes and her auburn hair which he wore slicked back in the duck tail style, the latest fashion of the day. Dad had been bald since he was nineteen and this worried Walt excessively. He’d stand in front of the kitchen mirror day after day and comb his hair over and over again tryin to git it jist right while he whistled the latest Elvis Presley tune.
Since our house was located about five miles from the town of Ashland, we had to ride the school bus all year round and one cold, winter’s day we had a new bus driver who was actually a cousin of ours. Not a well-liked cousin but a cousin anyway. As we were boardin tha bus at the high school for tha journey home one afternoon, our cousin waited impatiently for all of us to stop pushin and shovin and yellin as teenagers are want to do and then he turned around in his seat so that he could git a real good look at us.
He slid his cold, blue eyes over every last one until we’d stopped yappin and then he announced that tha next person he caught talkin would be immediately kicked off and would have to walk the rest of tha way home. Surveyin us as though we were a bunch of hardened criminals, he waited for our response and gettin none, with a final glare at all of us, he snapped his mouth shut and turned around to drive.
That particular afternoon the temperature was hoverin around minus twenty degrees and the wind was gustin out of the Canadian north between fifteen and twenty miles per hour. It was not a good night for walkin!
Now Walt was a lover of all females and he jist couldn’t resist talkin to the pretty Gendreau girl who was sittin across the aisle from him. He made some snide comment about the driver’s announcement and the second time he opened his mouth, the bus driver slammed on his brakes and the bus came to a reluctant lurchin stop. His angry eyes flashed fire in the rear view mirror and lookin directly at my older brother, he yelled! “O.K. Stevens, I warned yah! Git your sorry ass off my bus!”
Walt, looked back at our cousin for along moment and indecision about what to do roiled through his brain and then deciding that a fight jist wasn’t worth it, he kind of shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner, picked up his basketball gear, sauntered down the long isle and stepped down into the road. Walt knew that with his running ability, he’d make it home long before the bus had made it all the way up the Fenderson Road to tha turn around at the Rushinall’s house. But that wasn’t good enough for the bus driver. He looked at the rest of us sheepishly sittin there and he yelled again, “I mean all you Stevens!” Surprised, Jake and Bub and I all looked at each other and we too got off the bus.
It was a long, cold walk on a freezing winter afternoon and all the way home; we plotted and schemed about how we were going to get our revenge on Walt and the bus driver. We never did make good on any of our plans but, the energy generated by all our planning and scheming kept us from freezin to death. We never did catch up with Walt because as soon as he got off the bus, he quickly set his cross-country runnin pace and he sailed over the hills and valleys and was home long before we were.
Walt had discovered girls early and he especially loved the pretty French girls who lived in the small settlements in and around Ashland. He had the unique ability to learn and imitate any other language that he heard and before we knew it, he was speakin quite passable slang French and he was especially proficient in swear words. Walt was quite gifted and a voracious reader and our family didn’t really know just how gifted Walt was until much later on in his adult life.
When Walt was in his junior year in high school, he fell in love with a lovely French girl by the name of Jessie, who lived in the Portage Lake area of Aroostook County which was about thirteen miles from Ashland. Walt would hitch hike the thirteen miles to visit Jessie for a little while and then he’d hitch hike home again. It became a well-known joke around town that when Walt complained to Coach Grant that the basketball warm-ups were really gittin tiresome and Coach Grant would eye him closely for a couple of seconds, grin and reply, “Hey Stevens, don’t complain to me. Jist pretend that you’re runnin out to Portage Lake to visit Jessie. Oh, and Stevens, make that another four laps for all your complainin!” All his classmates would have a good laugh as Walt continued runnin laps around the gym.
By the time Walt became a senior, he realized he was losin ground where Jessie was concerned and he turned his attention further north. It wasn’t too long before he discovered the little Town of Eagle Lake. As Walt and his best friend Jimmy soon discovered, it also had many beautiful French girls. The other attraction was a road house named Peter Pan, where even if you were underage, on most any night of the week, you could still git a watered down drink.
Come Saturday night, Walt and Jimmy could usually be found down by the corner of Saint Mark’s Catholic Church in Ashland, all spruced up and tryin to hitch a ride to Eagle Lake. Ashland and Eagle Lake were strong rivals in the interschool basketball games along with Fort Kent and the Allegash. Boys from Ashland were not exactly welcome to come and check out the girls in Eagle Lake and vise versa.
Whenever the competin teams from all around “tha county” came to Ashland to play a game, win, lose or draw, they’d write graffiti on the locker room walls, kick in the shower room doors and do other unmentionable things to the changing rooms at Ashland High School. Consequently, there was great hostility between the teams and every slight was recorded for later retaliation. Competition was keen durin basketball tournaments but it was even keener when the prize was a lovely French girl.
One particular fall evenin, Walt and Jimmy set out for a “man’s” night out in Eagle Lake. They were dressed to the hilt in new jeans and sneakers and their hair was combed back in the popular “Duck’s Ass” style. They considered it a good omen when after havin hitch-hiked for only ten minutes; they were picked up by a sympathetic Canadian truck driver and deposited right outside their desired goal.
Peter Pan’s was already jumpin as Walt and Jimmy hurried through the door and they quickly latched on to a couple of girls and started dancin. Walt was just beginnin to enjoy himself when Jimmy suddenly punched him in the arm and motioned for Walt to look over his shoulder. Walt adjusted his steamed up glasses and whistled as his breath was involuntarily sucked into his lungs.
Standin at the edge of the long bar were five of the basketball players that they’d played against the previous night. Walt vividly remembered the sore feelins and muttered threats after the hard-won ball game and his head began tellin him that a situation was about to happen. Jist as he began slidin his eyes around the smoke-filled room looking for a possible escape route, the leader of the group suddenly pointed at Walt and Jimmy with a cry of recognition.
Walt and Jimmy ditched the girls and began a fast shuffle towards what appeared to be the rear exit door. Walt grabbed the handle and pulled the door open and he and Jimmy rushed in. To their surprise, they discovered it was the men’s toilet. Jimmy slammed the door shut and locked it. “God damn it all ta hell! How’re we going to git out of here Jim?” Walt asked. Jimmy pointed to a small window located just above the toilet. Walt shrugged and stepped onto the toilet seat then he reached up and shoved the window open. It slid upwards with a dry screeching sound and with a quick thrust of his hand, he dislodged the rusty screen.
“Jaysus, Jim, give me a boost, will yah.” Walt ordered and Jimmy grunted as Walt climbed onto his shoulders. Walt twisted and struggled and finally slipped headfirst through the window and disappeared. Jimmy stared at the empty darkness of the window and at that moment, there came a sound of splintering wood from the bathroom door behind him. This was all the impetus Jimmy needed and he didn’t wait to see what fate had befallen Walt. As he later said to Walt, “My mother didn’t raise no fools en my ass was gonna burn!”
Jimmy jumped onto the toilet seat and lunged for the open window. He groped for the windowsill with his fingers and his fingernails made scrabbling noises against the dried out wood. He cursed and lunged again and with the desperation of a condemned man, he connected. He pulled his body up and he was teeterin half in and half out of the window. Jim called out to Walt and he heard a muffled reply and that was all he needed. He didn’t wait to hear anything else, he let go and fell headlong to the ground below.
Jimmy grunted as his body hit the hard ground and then he suddenly found himself sliding very rapidly downwards. “Not too bad,” he thought to himself and in the next instant he became aware that his senses were bein assaulted with a multitude of data and it was all bad! He felt and smelled things at exactly the same instant and a feelin of clingin wetness overrode all the other feelins. He felt wet right up to his neck but, along with the wetness came a clammy, slimy feelin. Whatever he’d landed in didn’t just cling, it oozed and slid too. He pulled his hand out of the muck and tried to wipe off his face so that he could see where he was and he gagged as he brought his hand up and the powerful stench hit him full in the face.
“Walt! Walt! Where tha frig are yah?” Jimmy whispered. Off to his right Jimmy heard a sucking sound and then came a sloshin kind of movement in his direction. He gingerly turned and finally he saw Walt for the first time. Only, Walt didn’t look like the same person who’d disappeared through the window just a few moments before. He was covered with black, slimy shit from one end to the other. They were now “swimmin” in Peter Pan’s cesspool.
“If you laugh Jimmy, I swear tah Christ I’m goin to kill yah!” Walt whispered hoarsely as Jimmy lost control and fell over with laughter into the muck. Walt grabbed Jimmy and pushed him face down in the cesspool and Jimmy gagged and tried desperately to pull away. After Walt let go of him, Jimmy did his best to wipe tha muck off his face and all he managed to do was smear tha stuff sideways. Walt took one look at his best friend and in his best southern accent said, “Smile Jim, so I can see where you is.” That was all they needed, they doubled over with laughter and shit flew in all directions.
A few seconds later, there was the sound of the door breakin open in the bathroom above and the sound of angry voices floated down to them on the damp night air. Knowin that they were sittin ducks, Walt grabbed Jimmy and they began making their way to the edge of the septic tank. Walt found the edge of the grass and quickly pulled himself up out of the mess, then he reached behind him and grasped Jimmy’s outstretched hand and pulled him free of the oozing muck.
They furtively crept along the edge of the building and slipped between the rows of parked cars until they reached the main road and then they headed south at a pretty fast clip. They ran until they couldn’t run anymore and about a couple of miles down the road, they slowed down to a fast walk so they could catch their breath. Jimmy kept moanin and repeatin over and over, “Oh God!” “Oh Jaysus!” “Oh God!” Every now and then, he’d reach up and wipe the oozing, putrid stuff of his face with the back of his hand and fling it into the dirt at the side of the road.
They’d been walkin for about five miles when they finally heard the sound of an automobile approachin from behind. Walt grabbed Jimmy and pushed him down into the nearest ditch and they lay where they were as the car rushed on past them into the dark night. “Jayus Walt, why’d yah do that?” Jimmy asked. “I thought we needed a ride!” “It might have been those guys back at the bar and I didn’t want tah take any chances because they know we’re from Ashland.” Walt replied. “Oh yah, I forgot about that,” Jimmy mumbled.
They pulled themselves up out of the ditch and trudged on down the deserted road. After what seemed like miles, they again heard the sound of an automobile approaching in tha distance. Walt moved to the shoulder of the road and stuck out his thumb and as tha car slowed to a halt, Walt pushed Jimmy forwards towards the car. Walt yanked open the door, shoved Jim in and climbed in beside him. The driver looked at the two of them in disbelief, and gittin a strong whiff of how they smelled, he covered his nose with his hand and screamed, “Out! Out! Get out!” Walt wrenched open the door and stumbled out pullin Jimmy after him. The driver slammed the door shut and took off with a squeal of tires.
Walt, who loved Elvis with a passion, always wore his hair in the “duck tail” fashion and his dark auburn hair was usually combed until it was absolutely perfect and he always had a comb in his pocket ready to fix any hair that fell out of its coifed arrangement. Since tha fall into tha cesspool had completely undone his locks, Walt felt tha need to fix his hair. He dug around in his shirt and whipped his comb out of his shit-filled pocket and began combing his matted, slimy hair. He combed and patted until he had every strand back in place and it felt jist right! Then, he turned to Jimmy and with a smile in his voice said, “You know Jim, shit sure makes a good hair settin gel, don’t yah think?” Jimmy jist ignored him and walked on.
Tha shit-encrusted boys walked on for miles and miles and as the wan moon was slidin towards the western horizon, Walt turned to Jimmy and said. “One good thing to remember Jim, mosquito’s jist never bites a shitty man!” Jimmy merely groaned and kept on walkin with his head down. The only sound that could be heard in the pitch-black night was the sound of their basketball sneakers hittin the pavement and the squish of the muck between their toes. They’re feet seemed to be mocking them saying, shit… shit… shit… shit… shit, as they placed one tired foot in front of the other on the long journey home.
Walt survived that ordeal and went on to graduate with the class of “59.” In search of a better life than Tha County had to offer, he promptly joined the army and was sent to Fort Deven’s, Massachusetts for basic training. It was there that Walt was “discovered,” so to speak. Not only was he a sharp shooter with a rifle but, he could look at a document that was upside down and sideways and memorize it in a matter of seconds. He had total recall. He also had an undeveloped linguistic ability. Walt was sent off to Officer’s Candidate School, Protocol School and various other agencies of the United States Army. It didn’t take them long to realize that they had a rare specimen on their hands.
Walt traveled all over the world during his career with the military. He even got to “visit” Vietnam not once but, twice. He sometimes came home for short visits before he was assigned to another tour of duty. Walt was on his way up and there was no stoppin him.
Walt worked hard and he was very happy about his success and whenever he acquired a new possession, he never failed to call mother and dad to tell them about it. It took Walt quite a while to settle down with one woman and when he finally tied the knot, he called to tell us that he was bringin his wife home to meet everyone. Walt arrived home in a flurry of excitement and he couldn’t wait to show off his beautiful new wife, Ginny and his shiny new Cadillac.
A couple of mornings after he’d arrived, Walt went outside to admire his dream car only to find that his brand new automobile had a flat tire. He opened the trunk to discover that there wasn’t a spare tire inside. He slammed the trunk shut and stormed into the house to call around to try and find another tire. He didn’t bother to call the local garage in Ashland first, he called garages in Presque Isle, Caribou and even down to Houlton, to no avail. He hung up the phone and slumped dejectedly into a chair. “God-damned hick town!” He muttered under his breath. Mother, hearin his retort, stopped washin dishes and turned and looked at him. “Did yah try Michaud’s Garage in Ashland?” She asked. “No,” he replied. “What makes you think that they’d have that size tire if all the other garages didn’t?” He asked.
Mother slapped the dishtowel down on the counter and marched over to the telephone. She quickly dialed a number and after a few minutes, she turned to Walt and asked him, “What size tire did you say you needed?” “Why?” Walt asked. “Well,” she replied. “Michaud’s Garage has not one but two! They used to keep them on order especially for old Lizzie Gallup’s Cadillac. You can pick one up any time you want.”
Shortly before dad died in 1982, Walt came home for a short visit. Walt was now living in Virginia and had a nice job with the National Security Agency in Washington. Dad was lyin on his bed and Walt was sittin in a chair across from him. Every so often the lulls in conversation were broken by the sound of a car as it passed our house on the way to town.
Walt stretched and said to dad, “God dad, I don’t know how you stand it! Doesn’t all this silence and boredom git to you sometimes?” Dad lifted his head and looked at Walt. “I guess a feller gets used to it after livin here sixty-eight years.” “Not me!” Walt retorted. “I’d never git used to it, that’s why, right after graduation, I joined tha army to have a look at the way the other half lives and now that I have a little of what the other half has, I can’t understand why anyone with half their faculties would ever stay in this God-forsaken place. Look at you, dad, what have you got to show for all your years of hard work and honesty? Why, you can’t even get social security for a job that you held for twenty-five years! When I retire, at least I’ll have something to show for it!”
Dad painfully raised himself up on one elbow and looked more closely at his oldest son. “Well, you might be right Walt. I don’t seem to have too many of those material things that you seem to value so much but I do have things that your money could never buy.” Dad took a long breath and went on. “I did work like a dog for twenty-five years for Maine Seed Potato Growers and when the company closed, I didn’t git a dime. I couldn’t collect Social Security for all those years because the Social Security Act wasn’t even passed until the nineteen thirties. A man can’t change the time of his birth now can he? I’ve lived a long and hard life and I don’t have any regrets. I still git up every mornin at four am and build a fire for your mother and I went to work every day, even when I was sick, so that you and your brothers and sisters would have food to eat. I did an honest days work for an honest day’s pay en I never cheated anyone en I never hated anyone either. I don’t claim to understand what’s goin on in the world atall but for all those friggin educated fellers down there in Washington, I don’t see how they’ve managed to screw up the world as much as they have. And when everything is said and done, it will all come back to the little towns like this one and to people jist like me to get everything back on an even keel again and don’t yah think it won’t!”
“Dad, I… “Never mind son,” Dad replied. “I always knew that yah were way too smart and had ideas much too grand to ever to stay in a place like this one for too long.”

Dad is gone now and Walt is still working in Washington. He doesn’t come home much anymore but he still calls on Sunday.

By Martha Stevens-David