Brothersong (Green Creek 4)

The queen looked up toward the sign.

The garage had been renamed.

The sign read: BENNETTS’.

She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as her eyes filled.

Gordo looked uncharacteristically nervous. He said, “For a long time I was angry. Lost. Confused. I didn’t understand. But I am what I am because of you. All that I have, everything that I can call mine, it’s because of the wolves. We fought. We bled. We raged. And in the end, we found our way back to each other. I’m not a great man. I make mistakes. I’ve hurt more people than I care to remember. But this is what I want. It’s not much, I know. And if you want me to change it, I—”

Whatever else he would have said was lost when my mother launched herself at him. He caught her, eyes widening. She was crying, she was laughing, and though there was a tinge of blue that I thought would never leave, her happiness was bright and vital.

She said, “Gordo, don’t you see? It’s everything. It’s everything.”

Gordo relaxed, a look of relief on his face. “Really?”

“Yes. You silly man. You silly, wonderful man. How I cherish you.” She laughed again. It sounded like bells.

I watched as the guys from the shop approached her, all turning away from her so she could see our name on the backs of their work shirts. She exclaimed over all of them, Gavin most of all. He grinned at her in that squinty way he had.

Gordo grumbled when I handed him the scissors. “This is dumb.”

“Probably. But give them what they want anyway.”

He did. The crowd cheered when he cut the ribbon.

Bennetts’ was open for business.

AT THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER, I walked with my brothers through the forest. It was just the three of us. Gavin had left with Mom earlier that morning, refusing to tell me where they were going. No matter what I did, he kept his mouth shut, glaring at me each time I asked. Mom was the same way, telling me I’d know when it was time. “You worry too much,” she told me. “Trust me. Trust him.”

I did.

So I let them go.

Kelly and Joe found me. Kelly said I was moping. I told him to shut up. Joe laughed at me, and I tackled him. He managed to get away, and I chased after him through the trees. I caught up with him eventually, Kelly close behind us. He yelped when I put him in a headlock, demanding he respect me because I was the oldest.

“That’s not how it works!” he growled at me.

Fucking liar. Of course it was.

But I let him go.

He scowled at me.

I ignored him.

Kelly said, “It’s different.”

We looked over at him.

He was pressing his hand against the trunk of an old elm.

“What is?” Joe asked.

“The territory. Can you feel it?”

We went to him. We both put our hands on the tree. It felt… lighter, somehow. Bigger. More. I pulled my hand back, and my brothers turned to me.

“It knows,” I said finally. “What we’ve done. All that we’ve given.”