Brotherhood of One (3rd title... need suggestions)

Have you ever experienced so much hate that you were compelled to do something about it? I consider myself a level-headed person, not too quickly given to violence which is why I still can't believe that I had it in me to do what I had done.

I still recall the feelings stirring up within when I saw Michael's car gas up at the corner station, across the road from where I was to meet our other friend. Jose was late as usual and I was alone waiting. Michael rarely brought his car to the office, and seeing his car only confirmed my suspicion that he was on his way to see Angela. I watched as he hurriedly sped away from the station, excited to see her again for sure.

Jose finally came, and saw me clutching the beer bottle loosely by the neck. He had a smile on his face as he apologized for his tardiness. I looked back to the gas station, confirmed to myself that Michael had already left. “So what’s up with you? Didn’t expect you to be in the mood to drink on a workday. Something must be up.” That silly smile never left his face.

“Just thought you’d want a beer or two to catch up.” I lied. We ordered more beers and chow before I laid it on him.
“Are you sure?”
“No. That’s the problem.”
“Well, I don’t see why he wouldn’t tell you if there was nothing to hide.”
“Exactly.” We drank in silence, interrupted only by the occasional question followed by a nod or that motion of the shoulders.

It started when I met Angela, her plain looks more than compensated by her bubbly personality and love of life. It was not hard to take a liking to her once the conversation starts and this was exactly what occurred. But I wasn’t sure of what I wanted, and thought it better she meet my friends. We hung out with friends I had since childhood, people whom I shared most of my life with and who knew me inside out. They were more than brothers to me and I valued their thoughts and views as much as my own. She was a hit, and this more than made up my mind about my intentions.

More and more often, we went out as a group. I couldn’t live without my friends and I wanted her to be comfortable with them. Then I started noticing it, that unmistakable look in their eyes, hushed conversations, an awkwardness whenever I spoke to either. But I wasn’t sure, and nobody would tell me, especially Michael.

Jose was the person in our group whom I knew Michael always turned to. If there was anything I needed to know, it was coming out of him. I learned more from his silence that from what emanated from his lips. That was enough to confirm it, to know the real story. Jose certainly was not blind, and suggesting doubt to the obvious proved that I was alone.

“Well, maybe I am imagining things. Heck what am I thinking anyway? Doubting my brother for a lousy lay?” I lied again. There was no smile on Jose’s face this time. He looked straight into the bottle and took a long gulp.

A couple of months passed since that night. I put the thought of Angela out of my head, replaced by the thought of brotherhood. These were the only people that I trusted, and she meant nothing to me. Michael and Angela got closer, as I got closer to Michael. Summertime drew near, and as usual the topic of the traditional group getaway was foremost on everyone’s mind. The beach, basking in the summer sun and forgetting everything else. It was just what I needed, and obsessed about it more than everyone, making lists, itineraries and making sure that we had everything that we needed.

The day of the trip finally came, and we were headed off to an island paradise far removed from the usual tourist destinations. “You seem like you need this trip the most, look at the size of your eyebags!” Michael laughed. Everyone looked in my direction as we boarded the bus.

“Too excited I guess.” I answered.
“Yeah, too bad though the girls couldn’t be here.” Michael frowned.
“What do you mean? This is one for the boys, no girls allowed!” Cheered Fred. “How many hours is this trip going to take?”
“Just shut up, will you. Didn’t you get the itinerary that I sent?” I admittedly was in a rotten mood. Four hours on the bus, an hour by boat and an hour’s trek. It was going to be a long day for sure.

We arrived on the island and were greeted by sand, sun and nothing much else. There was no one else on the island save for the boatmen who were to cast off soon and come back for us in the morning. We brought down the supplies that we had bought from the resort on the mainland, a lot of alcohol, food, water and our gear. We had prepared for almost anything.

We were all smiling, horsing around amidst the waves, shoving each other playing football and simply lazing around and talking about the good times past. The five of us knew that we were all that each had. Night came and the drama ensued. We gathered by the campfire, and it was then that Michael told me everything. I smiled, threw sand in his face then extended my hand. He cursed, took my arm and smiled back. It was all out in the open now and everyone smiled. A new bottle was opened, a glass offered to the gods of the sea and the merriment ensued. Conversations drifted about dreams, the best of times, parents and of course to girls.

As the bonfire slowly faded to embers, I sat outside my tent with a shot of whiskey in hand. The warmth engulfed my throat as I slowly let the vapors fill my nostrils. The soothing breeze of the sea passed through my hair as I lit the last of my cigarettes. Michael came and stood beside me, nudged me to move a little and sat down beside me on the sand. He had a bottle of wine in his hand from which he drank in large gulps. “Thanks for understanding, brother.” I looked at him and my glass clinked with the bottle of wine. No words were exchanged, just the presence of each other amid the glow of the coals and the light of the stars.

Morning came, everyone slowly came out of their tents, I was still seated in front of mine, whiskey long gone and eyes sunk deeper than ever. The smell of bacon wafted through the breeze and the aroma of brewed coffee foretold of a bitterness. We gathered all our gear, placed them together in a pile as we ate the last of our meager breakfast. We barely spoke as everyone still suffered a headiness from the festivities of last evening.

“Remember the time when we all first got together? Waiting by the parking lot for our ride home?” I asked. Everyone smiled as they recalled days when we were kids, and how we watched each other become the men we were today. “How I wish we were back in that parking lot.” All agreed.

The boat came back for us and we had packed the last of our bags. I took out my vest, strapping them tightly as I made my way up the boat. All of our gear was stowed underneath the boat, including a small box inside my bag carrying letters, pictures and other items that I kept as reminders of our friendship. I sat at the front of the boat, allowing the harsh sun to bear down upon my face. I kept looking at my watch for the right time to come. I looked back at the others, all kept to their own mostly, except for Michael who looked strangely at me, as if he knew. I glanced at my watch for the last time, and stood up at the fore. I dove to the side of the boat suddenly as everyone else watched in shock. With all my might I swam away, as far as my arms and legs could take me. And as I heard the shouts and cries of the others demanding to know what I was doing, the first explosion shattered my eardrums as they seared through the pictures, letters, my bag and the underside of the boat. I was thrown to one side as the second explosion tore the boat to pieces. I sank deeper into the water, floundered as I struggled to find which way was up and gasped a lungful of air as soon as my face came out of the water. Everything was silent. The shouts ceased and the drone of the engine was a distant memory.

I made my way back from the ceremony still clutching my eulogy. I took off my jacket and left my shoes by the door, making my way to the bedroom. I lay still on the bed as I looked at the ceiling still in disbelief. There was no hatred now, and I wondered if there ever had been.