There was a period in my life when I didn't trust my brother. It was an important period of my life. A time when I was crossing from one stage to another. A time when relationships were an integral part of my maturity. A time when your brother's trust meant everything.
It happened over a girl. Her name was Lisa and she was, in fact, the girl next door. We lived in a small cul-de-sac of five houses. We were far from "Knot's Landing," but we had our share of drama. Lisa's family was the second to live in their house. The original family, the Lemkes, moved away, in my recollection, because no one ever got along with the members of their family. It was torture for the Lemke kids. No one wanted to play with them. No one wanted to befriend any of them. All we wanted to do was ignore them and when we weren't ignoring them, we were harassing them. So, one day, the house went up for sale and Lisa's family moved in.
Besides our house (three boys) and Lisa's house (just her, but she had older brothers and sisters, and step brothers and sisters from her parent's previous marriages), there were the Harmon's (one boy, Randy, and one girl, Sharon), the Madden's (two girls, Toni and her younger sister whose name escapes me. Toni's mother, Tina, was the neighborhood boy crush. If MILF was a term used back then, Tina would have been it. Tina became a divorcee quickly after they moved into the house and there was a nice steady stream of boyfriends thereafter. Ira and Randy Harmon learned that if they walked up to Tina's house and looked into the windows of their ground floor, they could see whatever was happening inside. All they had to do, if the blinds were closed, was raise and lower their bodies constantly, creating somewhat of a moving filmstrip. They got an early and live sex education from these sessions). There was also a fifth house in the court. A family of three that was not very nice. They didn't like living in such a small area and made playing in the court unbearable. The wife would move the car on the sidewalk to block our passing bikes. Or she would park her car in the cul-de-sac so we couldn't play kickball. Their distention just made the other families closer.
I was one of the first to welcome Lisa to the neighborhood. For some reason, the rest of the kids were not interested in meeting her. I guess, thinking back on it now, it may have had something to do with the stigma the Lemkes left on the house. The kids may have discounted Lisa simply because of what the previous kids represented.
I was fine with being the lone member of the Welcoming Committee. I was 12 and Lisa was 15. My hormones were screaming.
Lisa and I would hang out in her garage. We'd listen to music on B-96, then a Top 20 radio station. We'd sing along to songs by Huey Lewis, Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder, Olivia Newton-John, Survivor, Journey, Toto. I'd offer her sticks of gum from my pack of Doublemint, offer to walk with her to the 7-11, take out the garbage with her.
I remember the day of brotherly betrayal. It was shortly after the school year began. Lisa was a Freshman and Ira was a Junior. They were both invited to the same party. A high school thing that 6th graders were not welcomed at.
Ira told me he was going to the party. Lisa told me she was going to the party. Both insisted that they wouldn't probably stay long because they didn't know many people. Ira didn't make it home before I went to bed. He wasn't home early.
The next morning, it was raining outside. I remember. It was raining outside and I asked Ira how the party was. He wouldn't look at me in the eyes. He told me the party was "just okay," grabbed his coat, and left the house.
I followed a few minutes later, ready to see how Lisa's night unfolded. I walked outside and was stopped, as cliche as it is and as much as it hurts me to use one, "dead in my tracks." Ira was outside in between our houses. He had his jacket over his and Lisa's head, shielding them--no covering them is a better way to describe it--from the rain. I heard giggles. I heard sounds of kissing. I heard it all.
I was heartbroken. I'm not sure if I was more upset because Ira chose someone I clearly had "puppy love" for or because they tried to keep it a secret from me. I was in 6th grade and Lisa was in high school. I knew she'd never like me the way I liked her, but it still stung.
The relationship continued. Publicly and privately for a year and a half. During that time, my relationship with both of them suffered. I had lost faith in crushes. I had lost faith in friendships. I had lost faith in brotherhood.
Eventually, the relationships with both of them mended. After they broke up and could no longer stand each other. They looked to me, possibly, as an Allie.
Lisa and I were in high school at the same time and I shared a ride with her for much of my freshman year. When Lisa graduated and went to college in Decatur, I went to visit her. Ira dated other girls, mostly for long periods of time.
I dated too, but was always afraid my brother would take the girl away from me. It hindered me from bringing girls over to the house.
I trust him now, obviously, but I wish the betrayal never happened.
Brothers shouldn't let things like that crush them. There are many other things that can accomplish the same thing.
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