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Soul of the Desert


I have two brothers, one older, one younger. I don’t talk about them much, mostly because I don’t see them all that often. Plus, they are brothers. If you have brothers, you may understand that remark. This time, when I traveled to NM, my older brother picked me up at the airport and I stayed with him overnight. He hasn’t changed. He gave me the wrong phone number for me to call when I got my luggage and he waited in the cell phone lot. Every now and then, he just handily recalls his old phone number, one he had for years, but is not current. I double checked, but he managed to double-cross me twice!

He has a nice house. The guest bedroom happens to be at the front of the house, with the garage light shining into the bedroom. After I was in bed and realized this, I asked if he could turn it off.

“Sure. No problem. I’ll get it.”

Me: “If you show me where it is, I’ll do it.”

Him: “No, I’ll do it. It’s in the garage. Not sure which one it is, but I’ll take care of it.”

I went back to bed. He actually got it turned off in a short amount of time. Sometimes he can wander off and do “other things” for an hour and a half because he’s my brother.

Fifteen minutes later, the garage light came back on. “Do I kill him now or wait for later?” I muttered. Was it on a timer? Probably. I sighed and put the cover over my head.

Next morning, brother asked, “Did you go in the garage after all? The light was on.”

“No. You didn’t show me where the light was located, remember? Is it on a timer or something?”

He pondered. Sipped his coffee. Frowned as though I’d asked him to compute the secret of life. “Oh Wait! I had to go out in the garage later. I think I hit the wrong switch. I must have turned it back on by mistake.”

Seemed like a good time to smack him silly, if you ask me.

Posted: December 5, 2017