Brothers

I have one brother—just a wee one. Few weeks old, that’s all. He’s already got a stubborn head, though. When the bugger spots a dragonfly or a beetle, he’ll hunt it all day. Just watches it, waiting. One time he followed this spider all the way around the pond and fell asleep on a sunny rock. My parents looked everywhere for him. Stayed up all night worrying if he was eaten by some bird or drowned. He came back eventually, but he got a real mean look—you know, the look that says “you’re dead, mister.” Says he’ll never go to school, but we all said that when we were young. And he’s bright, really bright, too; I wish I had his wits. When I left home, he was crying and wailing and begging me to stay and help him hunt bugs and teach him guitar. But I just said I’d be back eventually, and I’d share my treasure with him if he took care of mum and dad. I miss him a lot now. Even if he’s sometimes stupid and wanders off.