Finding gold

“So how late does everyone stay?” I yelled the question, but my words were immediately consumed by the speakers belching out deep bass sounds. He didn’t hear me.

I reached out, tapping the looser area of my brother’s graphic tee, narrowly avoiding the darker fabric clinging to his sweat: “Max?”

Finally, he turned, his saucer-like pupils landing on me: “Isn’t this song great? Can you feel the energy?”

I nodded and felt a genuine smile creep across my face watching the lights strobing on his blissful face. Max’s happiness was contagious; it always had been, and I envied his ability to exist wholly in moments. I just wished the moments he chose to exist in had more room for me.

Coming to Max’s concert was out-of-character for me, but I missed my older brother, and I wanted to immerse myself in that golden light Max always basked in. I knew I wasn’t going to tell him the situation. I didn’t come for advice. In fact, I came for selfish reasons, to open my pores to Max’s luck and soak some in, steal it from him if necessary. I needed it more.

“Alright, I’m closing with a moving one, Edie, you’re gonna love it.” He gave me a wink and jogged back over to the makeshift DJ table he had set up for his party. Juxtaposed against the jagged edges of this ancient barn, Max was fluid. He moved with ease, a flood of golden waves crashing through rickety walls. I watched as the small crowd of his close friends drunkenly cheered, their eyes lit up, reflecting gold.

I tried to emulate Max’s being, loosening my shoulders to the beat of the EDM reverberating off the walls, closing my eyes and pretending the dusty slabs truly closed off the entire outside world. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

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I couldn’t tell how long it had been, but the music slowly faded out, and Max’s voice came booming out of his tiny microphone: “Alright guys, now go home. I gotta clean this shit out within an hour.” He laughed into the microphone, and the sound echoed, a smile whirring around the barn, sifting through the dirt.

As people began to scatter, loving Max but not enough to offer help cleaning, I walked over to him: “Nice job, buddy.” I smiled, leaning over to help him untangle the mess of cords.

“Thanks, Ede. Can’t believe you came. I knew you’d like it!” I can’t say that I honestly liked the music, I was more of a droning lyrics girl than a pounding beat girl, but I could tell Max believed I enjoyed it.

“Where does all of this go?” I started folding up the cheap white tables, crinkling my nose at the smell of spilt beer and stale sweat.

“Eh, just put everything into a corner or something.” Max casually waved a hand, stuffing all of his expensive equipment messily into his portable carrier. “I’m just going to jam it into the truck. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” I went back to the folding chairs, mulling over Max’s words. What must it be like to say it’ll be fine and believe it fully? To not immediately imagine every scenario in which it would not be fine?

As the events of the past week consumed me once again, I fixed my gaze on Max, looking for the light. He was so unaffected, haphazardly wiping up already permanent stains on the wooden walls. I had a thousand mosquitoes buzzing around my head, a constant whir of anxiety zooming through my ears, and Max was an island, untouchable. If I told him what happened to me, would they swarm him too?

“I’m starving.” Max looked over at me, pulling out his phone. “Ordering Antoine’s.”

I nodded. “How did you find this?” I asked, waving my arms to indicate that I was talking about the rundown barn. But the question was more: How did you find something that you actually enjoy? How did you find a way to not worry? How did you find confidence with the same gene pool as me? How can you not see that I’m drowning?

“Some guy I met at a networking event for tech. I was telling him how I’m trying to DJ on the side.”

“Nice. It’s very, erm, rustic.”

“It’s super cheap, and I’m just doing this for fun. Hopefully, I can plan a few more this year once I’m back from Bali.”

“Right! Bali. So cool.” I glanced back over at Max, who had given up on the not-even-nearly finished cleaning to lay down on an old tapestry. His elbows were wide, hands clasped behind his head, eyes closed. I imagined he’d look just like this in Bali, the arched wooden planks replaced by blue skies, white sand, and golden sun. He fit in with this dirty barn, as he would in Bali, as he would everywhere. I tried to remember him fitting in with me. I conjured a memory of us in the same place; tiny bunk beds in our green-carpeted room, Harry Potter books bigger than our heads, sweating glasses of lemonade. At that time, we were both under the same fluorescent lighting of our childhood home. Now, he bathed in the light while I crouched in the dark.

My childhood need for sibling justice took over, and I halted cleaning. If he was going to pause, so would I. I settled next to him, straightening the edges of the cloth to clear an area for me. Laying my back flat, I stared up at the dark ceiling, trailing my eyes along the debris resting on the tilted wooden planks. I wondered if it would fall down onto me.

“Wish I could go to Bali.” I exhaled, letting my shoulders sink heavily into the lumpy ground.

“You can, Ede. Buy a ticket and stay with me.” Max said this matter-of-factly, as he said all things. I felt a childish knot tie up my throat. I could never go there.

“Maybe.” I murmured, bracing myself for the crash of sadness at the reminder of all I couldn't do.

I felt a trembling, my lip’s movements out of my control, and I knew if I opened my mouth, my voice would crack open and flood the barn, collapsing the rickety walls, shattering our sanctuary. I attempted to lay still, grasping the tapestry in my fist, secretly willing Max to notice, to reach out a golden finger and make me better.

I continued scanning the ceiling, noticing a crack that was letting in the outside world; of course these flimsy barn walls could not keep reality away. I listened to Max’s breathing, steady as always, and tried match mine to his, emulating him once again. Inhale. Exhale. Again.

I stared through the crack, begging the wood to move together, to form a tight seal and scare away trespassers with the threat of a dagger-like splinter. When the ornery old barn refused to listen, I closed my eyes. Slowly, the window into reality disappeared, and I saw black nothingness, highlighted only by tiny dancing specks of gold.