September Flash #2 - "Show"

John doubles his allowance by watching his little brother Kevin on Friday nights.

Date night, his parents call it, making John squeamish. Nothing worse than old people acting like they’re not old. John himself is 14, old enough to want a date night of his own. Next year he will be a freshman in high school, after all. Compared to Kevin, a first grader freshly turned 6, John may as well be an old man.

So, Friday night is date night for his parents and brother night for the boys. Where the bedtime rules are a little looser, where there’s no homework, but the basics of civilized society are still in place; so yes, Kevin will need to be fed, he will have to brush his teeth, put on his jim-jams, and be in bed asleep before his parents come home.

Tonight, half-seven, John checks off his mental list. Dinner, check. Jim-jams…not yet, Kevin is still in his school polo shirt and khaki shorts.

John washes up after supper – really just putting the pizza box in the trash and then making sure Kevin washes his hands and face before letting him loose on the couch with the TV remote – and then joins his little brother in the living room.

“What are we watching?” John asks, putting an affectionate arm around his brother’s shoulders. Kevin’s easy to manage as long as John takes it easy and doesn’t roughhouse too much. Kevin’s a sensitive soul, Mom always says. You forget what it’s like to be so little, so dependent.

Kevin shrugs, starting YouTube with a click. He’s not supposed to be online without supervision. The Internet is not a safe place for little boys, says Mom.

“Seems like you know where you’re going,” says John. “Hey, you never told me what you wished for.”

“Huh?”

He pokes Kevin gently in the ribs. “Birthday wish, dummy. When you blew out all those candles. Man, six candles! You’re getting up there. Thought we were gonna light the house on fire!”

Kevin looks at his brother. “Six isn’t a lot of candles,” he says blandly.

John sighs. “It was just a…never mind.” He points at the TV. “This what you want to watch?” He looks at the screen; a cartoon of course, two smiling puppies who manage to walk around on two legs. It looks, at first glance, like this will be terrible.

Kevin shrugs. “Eric says it’s cool.”

“Ah,” says John. “Well, if Eric likes it…” Ever since Kevin met Eric in Kindergarten, his best friend has been a font of wisdom.

John wrinkles his nose as the cartoon continues. What are the two dogs…oh, the two puppies talking about? They’re talking incredibly slowly, in a sing-song way. They’re talking so slowly, in fact, that John finds himself yawning.

Kevin giggles, snuggling up against his big brother.

“What’s so funny?” John asks, his own voice almost as slow and ponderous as the pair of anthropomorphic dogs.

“Nothing,” Kevin replies, sounding bright and chipper in comparison. “Say, can we have cake for dessert?”

John groans. “How is that birthday cake still not finished. Aren’t you sick of it? It’s so sweet, makes my teeth hurt.”

“It’s chocolate,” Kevin replies. He rubs his stomach in a circular motion “My fav’rite.”

“Maybe later,” says John, meaning Absolutely not, because he doesn’t want dishes to wash, or a whiney little brother with a tummy ache.

“But I’m hungry,” says Kevin, which has to be a lie.

John turns away from the TV – a blessing, given the show Eric gave two thumbs up is surely the most boring cartoon in existence – and asks, “What about your birthday wish?”

“Huh?”

John growls. “Huh. What was your wish, dummy?”

Kevin twists his lips. “Mommy says you’re not allowed to call me that.”

John rolls his eyes, and then jumps off the couch and kneels down in front of the couch. “I’m so sorry,” he says theatrically, wiping at his dry eyes, “I’ll never do it again.” He grins. “Even if you’re being a dummy.”

Eric folds his arms. “If you call me that, I won’t tell you what I wished for.”

John sighs. As if I care. But he will keep Kevin sweet. He won’t rock the boat. Because a successful brother’s night is the difference between $15 and $30 in his pocket.

“Okay, so what do you-” John begins. He turns his head to check the TV. Yeah, that cartoon is still going. Still going slow, with those dogs on their hind legs, talking in the slowest way possible. Talking as if they’re about to fall asleep.

Imagine that. Two talking dogs, asleep on their paws!

John giggles.

“What do I what??”

“Huh?” John turns back his brother.

“You said, ‘what do you, and then you stopped,’” Kevin says.

“Oh,” says John. He giggles again. “I did, didn’t I.” He shakes his head. “I was just thinking about the show.”

“What about it?” Kevin pats the couch cushion beside him, and John gets back on, side-by-side with his brother.

“I was just…” John feels slow, slow as the two talking dogs, and he lets loose with another giggle. “It’s just silly, is all.”

Kevin pats his brother’s leg. “I think you’re silly.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?” Kevin repeats, and his tone is mocking, and then it shifts, and he says softly, slowly, “You’re just a silly boy. You watched the show and now your head’s all sticky like syrup.” He smiles at John. “We should put you on pancakes!”

John frowns at the idea, and then he bursts into more giggles. What a silly boy, his head is made of pancake syrup!

“But it’s okay,” says Kevin. “Just makes you sweet, don’t it?” He points at the TV, and John looks back at the screen.

Two silly, sweet puppies, talking so slow. Talking like they’re half-asleep.

John nods, yawns, and then says, “But you’re…you’re sweet too, then.” He drags his eyes away from the screen and turns to Kevin. “’Cause you’re watch…watching.”

Kevin shakes his head. “I don’t watch. Eric said I had to look just above the screen, so my head didn’t get all syrupy.”

John frowns. “How do you…what are you…”

Kevin pats his brother’s arm. “It’s okay, John. You didn’t know that part, so it’s not your fault. So, when Mommy and Daddy get home and we’re both still watching TV and we didn’t go to bed…” Kevin grins. “And we ate all the cake?” He cocks his head at John. “None of that will matter, because Mommy’s gonna see that your head’s all syrupy, so she won’t get mad.”

John shakes his head, partly to disagree and partly to clear the fog…the syrup that’s settle there between his ears. “No, Mommy…Mom’s gonna be plenty mad, ‘cause…”

“Hmm?” Kevin asks, his face a mask of patience.

John produces a huffing sound and throws up his hands. “’Cause I’m the big brother, that’s why! And now I won’t get my thirty bucks!” Tears fill his eyes, because suddenly, overwhelmingly, this puzzle is too much for John to solve.

“It’s okay,” says Kevin calmly. “I’ve got an idea.” He points at the TV, and John unquestioningly looks back at the screen. There are those silly, sweet puppy dogs, and they’re talking so slow. Maybe they’re actually sleeping. Maybe John is the one who’s sleeping. Perhaps this is all just some weird dream and he about to-

“The problem is that you’re the big brother. So, all you have to do is pretend to be the little brother.” Kevin’s voice comes through loud and clear, cutting through the silly, sweet dogs’ yawning, soporific voices. “Course, I’m 6 and so you have to be littler. You can be 3.”

The idea is terrible. The idea doesn’t make a lick of sense.

John manages to shake his head. “But…I’m…”

“I know, dummy!” Kevin says, “But this is pretend. You’re only pretending to be little, remember? You just pretend to be little, and then when Mommy and Daddy get home and your face is covered in cake and you’re not in your jammies and you’re still watching cartoons, and…” 

Kevin pauses, and it sounds as though he’s stifling a giggle of his own. “And you’re sitting on the floor in your undies and sucking on your thumb like a baby ‘cause you’re just pretending to be little…then Mommy won’t be mad.” Kevin rests his head against John’s shoulder. “Mommy won’t be mad,” he says brightly, as if impersonating his first-grade teacher, “Mommy will cover you with smooshy kisses and give you lotsa cuddles!”

And suddenly, as John stares at the TV screen, the words fall into his sticky, syrupy mind, and Kevin’s idea transforms from terrible to genius.

John’s eyes widen, his face relaxes into an innocent smile, and he nods enthusiastically.

“Okay?” Kevin asks, reaching for the TV remote.

“Otay!” John replies, and he knows that he’s said it wrong, he knows he’s said it like a little kid, but that’s okay, because he’s just pretending.

Two hours later, John lies in bed with Kevin. Two brothers sleeping in the same bed, Kevin rubbing John’s back.

“So, I guess I can tell you what I wished for with my birthday candles.”

John doesn’t reply. He’s too sleepy, his stomach full of cake. To be honest, he can’t even remember asking the question. He’s such a dummy.

“I wished for you to be the little brother and for me to be the big one. But I don’t know, I guess my birthday magic didn’t work ‘cause you were still bigger than me. Anyhow, I told Eric, and Eric said he had a special TV show that could help. And it totally did!” Kevin sighs, snuggling against his big brother. “I mean, it didn’t make me big, I’m still 6, and it made you…well, Mommy wasn’t mad when she got home. She was surprised, sure! But once she got you all cleaned up, and I told her how you kinda got all sleepy and then started acting all babyish, Mommy covered you with kisses just like I said she would.” Kevin pauses his chattering and then adds, “I kinda think she likes you better like this.”

John’s eyes drift shut. Kevin’s talking reminds him of the silly, slow-talking dogs, making him feel so sleepy and safe. Although Kevin’s not silly, as it turns out. Kevin’s plenty smart.

“I think Daddy’s trickier,” continues Kevin, “because he was all about wanting to take you to see a doctor. Eric says that the thing that makes your head all syrupy, well, a special doctor could un-do it and help you remember about being 14 and stuff.”

John sighs, close to sleep. It was so nice of Mommy to clean up the messes on his face and his bum-bum. Johnny hadn’t meant to make so many messes, he just loves cay-cake! And when Daddy asked John what he could remember about being a big boy, John just felt lost. But then Mommy said that he was like a perfect, innocent angel like this, and she kissed his face and his tummy until he squealed with laughter.

“Yeah, I bet Daddy wants to take you to see Dr. Cooper. He was grouchy about having to go to the store for your diapers.” Kevin sighs. “But tomorrow’s Saturday, and you know what we do on Saturday mornings with Daddy, right Johnny?”

John’s nose wrinkles as he tries to find the answer. He can remember Kevin, still in his pajamas, eating cereal and sitting on the couch, with their father sitting bedside him and watching TV before leaving for his golf game.

“Cartoons,” John murmurs in his toddler’s diction. Cah-tooth.

“You got it!” Kevin says, “Saturday morning is cartoons with Daddy! You’re so smart!”

John smiles, enjoying the praise. He curls up, feeling the thick diaper crinkle between his legs, and puts his thumb in his mouth.

“I’ve got just the show for him to watch.” Kevin gives John’s back a final pat. “I bet after that, Daddy will want you to be his sweet, syrupy baby boy forever and ever.”

THE END

"Baby sitting his younger brother, John decides it might be relaxing to just play along when Kevin starts pretending to be the older brother" - Dean