Time immemorial, two faces sit on every coin. Two sides brush every tale. Broken pieces. A mirage. Here is mine, my Genesis. I am Gordon. I don't say much, just enough. And this is Marvin's story. I can stand still a long time, listening to wind, awaiting the light of dawn. Midges get grumpy. They crash into swaying trees or quivering flesh. Me, they don't bite. Fish fizz and dance at the sight of me. Squirrels sing my song.
We were nothing rare and exceptional. Just brothers. But I wanted to hurt him, take him to a place where nothing could ease the dry leaves inside him. It started with a game of ringers, thirty-six marbles. Yellows, reds and blues. Tiny bubbles of space encased in globules of polished glass that gleamed like the sun. Marvin rolled his leaders, hitting at mine, a smooth strike each time. Even when he knuckled and released, each of his shooters flicked mine out of the circle and stuck in the centre. The more flippant my game, the richer his cleverness. Everything about him mocked me. His face took on something superior, all sportsmanship lost. When he scooped all my losers and swept them into his pocket, a curl of victory touched his lip as dry tears stung my eyes.
He took triumph to his room. His prize. My shame.
It happened in the kitchen. Spreading peanut butter on warm bread. I saw him as if for the very first time. Mr Twinkle, flipping and diving in his tropical tank, a dwarf chichid, five inches long. I saw him with fresh eyes. He bobbed his blue and orange hood, blowing very clean bubbles from his gills. He had seen better days and had plenty more in the tank.
Fifteen minutes later, instead of dancing with his tail, he floated face up on the water, thanks to me. Little given to delicacy, mamma cuffed my ear without notice or preamble and sent me howling like a banshee. Another boxer knuckle on the head hurried me up the steps. Through the banister, I watched her stretch out her hand, lift sobbing Marvin onto her lap and stroke his earlobes until--thumb in mouth--he fell asleep.
A year passed, and mamma lifted clothes from an ironing basket and found half-chewed cheese and her missing cat. Cheyenne. Poisoned.
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