Above the Fireplace

"It was there! Right there! How could you not see it?"

Simon has always had a condescending tone in his voice since we were kids. Something our affronting father inadvertently taught him as he talked down to our mom. Something I never picked up, but I guess I never idolized our father the way Simon does.

"No, Sime. I didn't see it." I say, exhausted by his tone. I bring my lighter to the cigarette dangling from my lip and breath in.

Simon growls. "How? It swooped down over there by that tree. You didn't even try to fire."

"Well, you didn't either." I throw my rifle over my shoulder on its strap.

Simon scratches his two-day camping stubble with a huff. "I guess you can't fire when you are busy smoking."

I roll my eyes and blow out a smoke ring to spite him. "I am only here so we can hang out before I go back to school. I don't want animal blood on my hands."

"So you spend a few years in the big city and now you're too good for us backwood folks?" Simon spouts.

I stop in my tracks. "I'm allowed to change. That is all." I say sternly.

Simon charges forward. "Let's go find it while it is still light out. How impressed do you think dad would be if we brought him back an owl?" Simon raises his eyebrows with a cheeky grin. "I can already see it hanging above his fireplace."

"Don't you think it would be kind of sad to shoot an owl? They are so beauti–"

"Creepy is the word. Creepy." Simon interrupts. "Have you seen their heads spin all the way around?" Simon shivers to be dramatic.

Simon always has to be right. I stopped arguing with him when we were seventeen, but it still annoys me at twenty-one.

Simon's hat catches on a tree branch hanging low in our path and he bends over to pick it up. "Maybe we can get it before dad comes."

I scoff. "Come on, Sime. Dad isn't coming."

Simon's eyes narrow, "he said he would come at some point. You know, just his favorite two boys and him in the forest. Hunting like we used to. " Simon lifts his rifle to his eye and yells BOOM then erupts with laughter.

I pick off a few leaves from a bush lining the trail, my rifle swaying on my back with each step. "He says that every year. But he hasn't come since he hasn't had to. When we were young, mom used to force him to take us out every summer, just so she could have three days of silence. But since we were able to hunt without a guardian, he hasn't come."

Simon stops in his tracks, "Guardian? You don't need to get all 'university student' on me. You can just say dad. And–that's not true."

I grimace. "Guardian isn't that hard of a word, Sime. And really–when is the last time dad came with us?" I poke.

Simon turns away and runs forward, suddenly yelling with excitement. "There it is! The owl is back!" He disappears through a bushed area, his gun raised high, blasting into the sky.

I brush some dirt off a log and sit down, anticipating Simon's disappointment to bring him back to me. I always was a better shot than Simon. When we were young, he would try to take credit for my kills when we shot at the same time–even though we both knew that it was my bullet.

I put my cigarette out on the fallen tree, flick it carelessly into the brush and wait.

Simon tramples back after a few minutes of shots echoing, "Why didn't you come?"

I sigh. "I'm tired. Maybe we should just head back a day early."

Simon glances at me with disdain, "we can't head back. Dad is going to come and spend the last night with us."

I raise my voice. "No, he's not, Sime! You have to stop trying so hard to please dad."

Simon steps forward, stumbling over a root sticking out of the ground, catching himself as he speaks, "Come on, he actually has a busy weekend at the shop. I don't want to leave and have him show up."

I yell, "but he never does! He says he will, but he never does. When are you going to accept that?"

Simon, annoyed, yells, "maybe cause he is busy working his ass off to afford to pay for your fruity New York art degree!"

I stand up. "Fruity? At least I am getting a degree. You are still living with mom and dad."

Simon steps toward me, his face red. "I don't live with mom and dad. I live in a cottage."

I yell, exasperated, "yeah! A cottage they built on their land! Mom told me on the phone that you even come over for dinner most nights. You go to dad's shop to try to talk man, only to pathetically follow him home to get a meal from your mommy. When are you going to grow up?"

Simon burst, "I am only a year younger than you, stop treating me like a child. I help them more than you know. And just because you are a mama's boy that reads pretentious books and cooks like a lady," the tone of his voice getting higher when he says lady, "it doesn't mean you are better than me!"

I laugh with a cocky burst, my eyes locking with his. "At least mom and I actually have a relationship. You are like a sad puppy waiting for your father to give you attention when he doesn't even give attention to his wife." I scream, inches from Simon's face. "Mom told me she wants to get a divorce!"

Then I feel static in my head as the ground nears my face. My head throbs as I bend my elbows to bring me off the ground. "What the hell? Did you just punch me?" Blood trickles down from my nose. I reach up to touch it.

Simon turns away with no remorse. "Shut up. I need to go find the owl before dad comes."

I want to yell. I sit up instead, my nose swelling as the blood in my cupped hands starts to drip through the cracks between my fingers.

.

.

.

The blood stopped after a while, but the pain throbbed until my face went numb. I walked back to our tent, setting down my backpack before collecting firewood.

I light the fire and sit down on a log around the pit, warming my hands before cleaning my crooked nose with gauze from the first aid kit.

I hear footsteps in the dark. I turn to see Simon walking towards me, defeated and empty-handed. I turn away, less than thrilled to see him.

"Hi." Simon shyly offers.

"Hi." I frown.

Simon puts his backpack down and sits on the opposite end of the log. We sit in silence until it is painful. I open my mouth to speak.

He interrupts, as usual. "I–"

I turn toward him. "What?"

"I'm sorry." He is sincere.

I remain silent, turning away. We sit for a few beats. "I am going to head back tonight. I need to see if I have a broken nose." I punctuate each word with anger.

Simon jumps in, "I can take you to the hospital."

I rush to answer. "No, I will drive back. Mom or dad can pick you up tomorrow evening." I pause. "I don't want you to cut your trip short," I continue in a mocking tone, "you know–just in case dad comes."

"Stop," Simon says softly. Dejected.

"I am going by myself though. I can't wait for you to tear down the camp. Just spend one more night here and we will come to get you tomorrow. I only waited so you wouldn't come back and see the truck gone."

Simon smiles, "thanks. I would have figured it out though."

I spout sarcastically, "plus I hate hospitals, so might as well get one last campfire. We don't really have fires in New York–except the crazy people lighting dumpsters on fire."

Simon laughs. I do too.

A rustle in the tree prompts Simon to grab his flashlight. "What was that?"

I look down at my gun near my feet, aware of its proximity in case a bear walks into the clearing.

Simon whispers through a grin, "oh my God. It's back."

I follow the beam of light until my eyes rest on an owl perched in a tree, staring at us without fear.

I whisper, "now is your chance, Sime. Get 'em"

Simon laughs quietly, "Nah. Let's just see if it stays for a while." He sets the flashlight down beside him, the light illuminated the collection of trees surrounding the owl.

He turns toward me, eyes on the ground. "I know that mom wants to divorce dad. She told me."

I don't know what to say. I just sit and listen.

"Why do you think I come over so often? I just want a reason to be together, for us to feel like a family before we can't anymore." Simon's eyes droop. "If I come over, mom always makes a nice dinner. We sit at the table and everything. They put on a brave face for me, and I know that it is fake and sometimes awkward, but when I am there, at least they don't fight."

"I didn't know that, Simon." My eyes are glossy now.

"There's a small house one county over that I've been eyeing for months. It is small, but a good place to start. The owner says it's mine when I want it, but I just can't yet. When I am on mom and dad's land, I help with the farm and dad at the shop when I am not on the rigs. If dad and I work late at the shop, that's when he invites me over for dinner. I don't think he'd ask if I wasn't around."

I tilt my head to the side as I sigh. "He probably wouldn't. He doesn't even call me in New York."

Silence. Simon continues. "I was always jealous of you and mom, you know. You can talk about books, and art, and make beautiful things. I don't know anything about that kind of thing."

"Mom loves having you close though."

Simon shrugs, "Really? I often think she wishes it was you. Mom told me she might move closer to you after the divorce."

I barge in, "we don't know if they'll get a divorce yet."

Simon fires back, "they will." Simon takes a deep understanding breath. "I think mom deserves better."

I nod in agreement, "she does, Sime. Unless dad becomes a whole new person, which honestly, Jesus will return before that."

Simon laughs. "I hope we will still see each other once in a while. We don't need to go hunting."

I smile, "thank God. I just don't think I look good in bloody army print." My chest warms at the sight of his admiration of me.

Simon grabs his flashlight again, searching the trees until the light reflects on white feathers, "wow! The owl is still there–"

Boom!

The owl plummets to the ground as Simon looks over at me while the smoke from my rifle settles. I have a bittersweet smile as I realize that I will likely never shoot a gun again.

"Did you actually just shoot something? And on your first try?" Simon teases as he stands up.

I yell as he jogs toward the bush it fell into, "dad did force us to target train from ages five to eighteen. That doesn't go away in three years, loser!"

A shuffle in the bushes startles Simon in his path to the fallen owl. "Did you hear that?"

I look down at my hands as I rub them closer to the fire. "Maybe it's the owl's husband, ready to peck the crap out of you!" I yell in jest and then erupt with a playful hoo hoo hoo hooo ahhhhhhhhhhh.

"Shut up! It would be coming to get you, not me!" Simon bends down and picks up the owl with gloved hands.

"Or maybe–"

We both jump at the sound of a third voice coming from a tall figure stepping out of the darkness. "Maybe it is that stupid dad that forced you to target train until you were finally a good shot."

"What the hell, dad? You scared the crap out of us!" Simon says, hunching down on his knees to catch his breath, smiling through the shock. Simon looks over at me, his eyes saying I told you so.

"I scared you? I knew I found you when I saw the fire, but didn't know I'd get a welcoming gunshot." Dad jabbed.

I burst, "daaaad, Simon punched me and now I need to go get a splint on my nose!" Taunting in a childish tone while smiling at Simon.

"Atta boy!" Dad jokes, as he walks toward us and sits down by the fire.

"Nice to know I am well cared for." I continue the joke. "Well, since you have a ride, Sime, I am going to jet. I want to be on heavy drugs when the feeling in my face comes back." I stand up, grabbing my backpack and keys.

"Drama queen!" Simon says, walking back to the pit with the owl in his hands.

"What do you got there?" Dad asks.

"Simon shot an owl." I burst before Simon has a chance to say anything. "It is really pretty. Simon chased it all day because he said it would look good above your fireplace." I wink at Simon and then start walking toward the truck.

"That took a whole day?" Dad says, barely looking up at Simon and the owl as he leans forward toward the fire. "Well, an owl is no moose. But you'll get there eventually, son."

Simon shrugs and curls his lips into a coy grin as I walk backward away from the firepit. He looks down at the owl and strokes its beautiful feathers, then says, "actually, I think it would look good above the fireplace in my new house."