A Notebook and an Envelope

The funniest things can change your world.

Eldon hadn’t seen Noah in years, He’d never tried. He hadn’t wanted to see him. And now he couldn’t.

He would never see his brother again.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. His father seemed indifferent as he read the obituary in the paper. All his mother had to say was “How disappointing,” before heading off to Bridge.

Eldon simply went to school. His friends noticed nothing, being so wrapped up in their own drama. But there was nothing to notice anyways. Noah wasn’t a part of his life. He hadn’t been for 5 years. Eldon didn’t care. He didn’t need to care.

The funeral was on a Tuesday. Who got buried on a Tuesday? Even postmortem Noah couldn’t stand to be normal.

Two weeks later the first letter came. The moment he saw who it was from Eldon threw it away. He didn’t want to read anything from him. He must have at least suspected that would happen because he wrote another one. And another. And another. Eldon lost track of how many letters he threw out. The idiot was definitely persistent. A month passed. Letters kept coming. Eldon sent each and everyone to the trash. When he was feeling dramatic, he threw them into the fire.

Noah had done that once. There were notebooks he condemned to the flames. “I need to write. I need to get it down. But I can’t let it be read,” he’d explained.

One day, two months after the funeral, he started to call the home phone. Must still have the number saved from all the times he called Noah. Noah was perpetually losing his cellphone for one infraction or another. “Stick it to the man,” he’d laugh through a black eye.

“Mister Eldon,” Louisa came up one day, “Phone’s for you.”

“Again?” Eldon scoffed at his math. “When is he going to get the hint?”

“He’s gotten it, doesn’t mean he’ll stop,” Louisa chuckled. “He’s done this before.”

“I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Then tell him that,” she placed the phone on his desk. “Otherwise, he will keep calling and keep writing. He might even stop by.”

“He’s not allowed.”

“That’s never stopped him,” Louisa sighed.

Eldon remembered. There was more the one night he’d snuck into the house, usually after Noah and their father had a particularly nasty row. Noah would always put a finger to his lips when he noticed Eldon. And Eldon would keep the secret. At the time he figured it wouldn’t hurt.

Now as he stared at the phone, he wished he hadn’t. He watched the blinking light. If Eldon waited long enough the idiot would give up. Five minutes past, then ten, then twenty. After thirty minutes Eldon had to wonder if he had nothing better to do. Forty-five minutes. He had to give up soon.

“He’s stubborn,” Noah had once commented. “It’s his best and worse quality.”

Eldon checked the clock. An hour. He’d been on hold for an hour. What was so important? What was worth all this effort?

A week before the ad in the paper, Louisa had told him Noah was on the phone. “I have nothing to say to him.”

“Then yell at him.”

He hadn’t. Noah was dead and he couldn’t say anything to him. He couldn’t yell at his brother.

He took the phone off speaker.

“I know it’s past ridiculous. I promised Noah I’d try.” He sounded different on the phone.

Another voice answered him, “Fine, five more minutes. Then I need to start dinner.”

“Ok. Come on Eldon. Pick up.” Moron. He didn’t realize Eldon could hear him. Eldon could just leave him like that. He should. It would serve him right.

Instead, he cleared his throat.

“Hello? Eldon? You there? Hello? It’s Jason. But you probably knew that. Look, I don’t know if you’ve heard but Noah…” he choked, “Noah is dead. It’s been two, almost three months now. I know you don’t like me and I’m sorry about that. But he left you some things. I have them if you want them. I live at 3659 36th West Street. Just stop by any time. I work from home so I’ll be there. Ok. I guess that’s it.”

Eldon stared at the phone. Noah left something? For him? Why? Why would he care?

He didn’t. He couldn’t.

Eldon tossed and turned that night. Noah wouldn’t leave him alone.

“You gotta learn to ride a bike.”

“Says who?” Six-year-old Eldon had sulked.

“Me,” was Noah’s triumphant answer. “I’ll even teach you.”

He hadn’t thought of that in years.

“What’s going on here?” Their father glared at them and the broken glass behind them.

“My aim was off,” Noah stepped forward. “I’m sorry sir.”

Eldon could still see the broken window. Still feel the fear from what he had done.

“Come to the roof, El,” Noah nudged him awake. “You’ve gotta see the stars tonight.”

“Did you fall, El?” Noah smiled. “I know where a band-aide is. I’ll fix you up.”

Where was that smile now?

Jason’s house was small. A kind person might say modest but Eldon was sure the correct term was outdated. It would be a miracle if the doorbell even worked. Of course, the dog informed him that the miracle had come to pass.

“Just a minute,” cried a vaguely familiar voice. It must have been the other voice from the phone. “Bean, get down.” The door opened and a young woman stood there. “Can I help you?”

“Um,” he took her in, messy hair and all. “I’m sorry. I think I made a mistake.”

“Wait,” she opened the door more. “Are you Eldon?”

He could lie. She had no business knowing his name. “Yes.”

“I should have known. You look just like your brother. Come in.” The house was a mess, toys strewn about everywhere. A baby was sitting happily, chewing on a bunny’s ear. The Golden Retriever was eyeing him whilst he slobbered on the floor. “I’m Tracy. This is our little Nora. Bean!” The beast had lifted himself onto its quarters. “No. Sit.” Bean pouted as he corrected his behavior. “And this is Bean. Make yourself at home. I’ll go get Jase.”

Eldon nodded but remained standing. He looked around at the wall full of happy pictures of the family. There were a few that had Noah in them. Why was he here? He could leave now. If he left now…

He could what? Avoid it all? Then he shouldn’t have come in the first place. Now it was too late. He was in too deep. Time to stand his ground.

“Eldon.” There he was. The man that had stolen his brother away. “You’ve grown.”

“You haven’t,” Eldon sniped.

Jason held up his hands. “Alright. I get it. We can talk out here or in the office if you’d prefer.”

“Office is fine,” Eldon glared at the toys.

“Right this way.” Jason led him to the end of the hallway. His office was full of sketches. There were a few full-colored paintings. “Have a seat.” Eldon eyed the small couch before taking the office chair.

“I’m glad you came,” Jason rummaged through a drawer. “I honestly didn’t think you would.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“You’re still mad at him.”

“He left.”

“Yes,” Jason agreed, “he did. Hardest decision he ever made.”

Eldon scoffed. “I’m sure he was broken up over it.”

“He was,” Jason pulled out a black notebook. “How old were you?”

“11.”

“Must have been hard without him there.”

“It wasn’t,” Eldon asserted.

“You can’t lie to me,” Jason informed him. “I know the stories. Noah didn’t hide anything from me. The loneness, the isolation, the abuse.”

“They never hit me.”

Jason let out a weary chuckle, sitting down. “How many times did they hit him?” Eldon gritted his teeth. “You learned to be the good kid. He must have taught you to hide everything. How to put on a brave face. When to let go a little so you don’t suffocate. He paved the way for you.”

Eldon stared at the floor. Could he deny it? He knew where to hide his contraband because Noah showed him. He knew the best way to hide that one bad grade until you could fix it. He knew when and where to cut loose so it wouldn’t get back to his parents. All because of Noah.

“You gotta learn to survive in this world,” Noah had said. “And how to sometimes live.”

“This,” Jason held up the notebook, “is… was his journal. He started it two years ago when he found out he was sick.”

Eldon took the book. He opened a random page and stared at the neat handwriting. “September 5th,” it read. “It tried to call Eldon again today. No luck. I hope he takes my call one day. I have to keep trying, right? I need him to hear everything from me. Don’t want my death to blindside him.”

Eldon closed the book. “Anything else?”

“This,” Jason handed him an envelope.

Eldon’s eyes widened when he looked inside. “How much?”

“$20,000,” Jason smiled. “He wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

“I don’t need it though.”

“Maybe not, but that’s not the point.” Jason leaned forward. “You might not believe it now but he loved you. He thought of you every day. Put aside that money for you, for whatever you would need.”

Eldon wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Tracy knocked and let herself in. “Sorry, thought you boys might want a snack.” She set a plate of cookies down.

“Ba-larh,” Nora cried from her arms.

“No, you can’t have a cookie yet,” Tracy cooed. “Soon though.”

“Did he meet her?” Eldon asked.

“Oh yes. They adored each other,” Tracy smiled.

Eldon pursed his lips. “I should go if that’s all.”

“Ok,” Jason nodded. “Take some for the road then. And if you ever need anything, we’re always here.”

“Where,” Eldon paused, not sure if he really wanted to know. “Where is he buried?”

“At Crown Hill,” Jason answered. “Would you like me to take you there?”

The ride was too short. Before Eldon knew it, he was standing at his brother’s grave. The only marker was some flowers Jason had laid earlier that week.

“I’ll give you some time,” Jason stepped away.

And he was alone with all those thoughts and feelings he didn’t allow himself. The ones that Noah always brought out.

“I don’t know how to feel about you,” Eldon finally said. “I used to love you. I think I worshiped you. But then you left. You left and I was alone. I missed you. And I’ve been so angry at you.” He felt the hot tear start but for once he didn’t care. “I don’t want to forgive you. I just want to be mad at you forever. But I’m so tired. I just… I just want you to know that even with all of that, I still love you, too. I hate it but I have to. I hate you and I love you. I’ll rectify that someday. Then again maybe I won’t. But for now, that’s the best I can do. So, goodbye, I guess. And I’m sorry I never took your calls.”

He waited until he could see again before getting in the car and going home. Maybe he would read the journal tonight. Maybe in five years. But he knew someday he would be ready to finally heal.