Never Truth

3

I didn’t have to answer. My dad’s booming voice called my name from the side of the house. “Gotta go! I’ll see ya around.” “Bye, ladybug girl.” The words followed me as I ran toward my daddy, but I hardly heard them in my excitement to get back to the car. Daddy drove us to the movie theater to see the spy movie. I sat between him and Marco so I could sit next to both of them, which meant I got to hold the popcorn. I only had to go to the potty one time during the movie and didn’t get scared at all. By the time the movie was over, it was dark outside and way past my bedtime. I could hardly keep my eyes open from the excitement of the day, and the car’s gentle motion on the drive home quickly lulled me to sleep. I didn’t wake when the doors to the car opened and closed. It was the stillness and the silence that stirred me from sleep. Blinking my groggy eyes, I quickly realized I was alone in the car. From where I sat in my booster seat, I could see Daddy and Marco outside, walking over to two men dressed in black vests. They didn’t look like any men I’d seen before with their long, scraggly beards and black tattoos on their necks and faces. But my daddy wasn’t scared of them, so I wasn’t. My daddy had all kinds of friends. The men shook hands under a streetlight, my brother pretending to be one of the adults. Just before my eyelids could drift shut again, the scene suddenly fell into chaos, stirring me wide-awake. Frozen in my seat, I watched my worst nightmare play out before me like a movie with no pause or rewind buttons. One of the men in vests began to yell. I could hear his angry voice penetrate inside the car. His face contorted, and he grabbed Marco by the hair, pressing a gun to my brother’s head. The man snarled at my daddy like the neighbor’s dog did when we walked by the fence. My daddy stood motionless, hands raised in surrender. Why wasn’t Daddy helping Marco? Why was the man so angry? I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I could tell it was bad. My stomach clenched viciously as fear immobilized my body. The next moment played out in slow motion, like the cartoons where the tomcat accidentally runs into a wall when he chases the little mouse. A loud bang rang out in the night, echoing off the tall buildings and making me clasp my hands over my ears. My eyes jerked shut, but only for a second. They opened in plenty of time to see Marco’s head jerk to the side and a dark liquid spray out around him. I couldn’t stop what I was seeing. As if someone was forcing my eyelids open, I watched in horrified silence as my brother’s limp body collapsed to the ground, a dark puddle quickly seeping out from beneath him. I couldn’t breathe. All the air in the car had been sucked out, making my head spin and my vision blur. Everything stilled. The men seemed just as shocked as me, eyes all locked on my brother. Without warning, Daddy launched himself at the men, stealing the man’s gun and hitting them both with it over and over. He attacked them like a wild animal. I could almost have convinced myself the whole thing was a scene from the movie we’d just watched. How else could my daddy be fighting like one of the spies on the big screen? The bad men tried to hurt him, and I wanted desperately to scream for them to stop, but I couldn’t make a sound. It wouldn’t have mattered. Daddy was quicker than either of them, punching and kicking, pounding on the men until both were on the ground unmoving, and still he kept at them. Eventually, he slowed, his chest heaving up and down as he glared at the men, then lowered himself to look at one of their hands. When he stood back up, he spat on each of them and turned to Marco. Daddy walked slowly to my brother’s side and dropped to his knees, placing his hands gently on Marco’s chest and bowing his head, but Marco never moved. Why isn’t he moving? Why isn’t Daddy taking Marco to the doctor? Why is Daddy crying? Questions and panic raced through my mind, but even at five years old, I knew the answers. I knew that my big brother was dead. I simply couldn’t face it. My entire world had shattered, but I was in shock.

Daddy stood and pulled out his phone, making a call before returning to the car. He thought I was asleep. I wasn’t supposed to have seen what happened. I knew that like I knew my own name. What I’d seen had been very, very bad. Without a second thought, I slammed my eyes closed. I didn’t want him to know that I’d been awake and wanted to hide from everything that had happened. If I closed my eyes, maybe when I opened them, I would discover it had all been a mistake. I could feel his gaze on me as I sat there motionless, head resting against the seat. I pretended to sleep, desperately hoping it was all a bad dream. But it wasn’t a dream or even a nightmare. We sat silent in the car for a short while until another car arrived. In the heavy darkness, Daddy never saw the streaks of tears soaking my face. He rolled down the window, whispering softly to the men from the other car. Then we drove away, leaving Marco on the cold city sidewalk. I never saw my big brother again.