by P.J. German
The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, ‘Take off the grave clothes and let him go,’ (John 11.44 NIV)
It’s not his fault he’s retarded. His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Zarnowski, don’t like to talk about it, nor about him. They don’t feel comfortable taking him in public; so instead, they left him in an assisted living facility. His parents don’t visit him. Alexis, his sister who is sixteen, doesn’t even know about him. The only person who seems to care is Pastor Rich, Alexis’s youth group pastor.
After the events of Alexis’s birthday, Pastor Rich kept an eye on her and her family. He knew there would come a day when the girl would discover she had a brother she never knew about, and he knew her parents would not tell her about Alex. When that day came, Pastor Rich wanted to be there.
After going through an old photo album of her parents’, Alexis noticed a photo that seemed odd. It was a photo of Alexis’s dad standing next to a hospital bed with Alexis’s mom holding a newborn. Her mother did not look joyful, and neither did her dad. The baby was wrapped up tightly. The only visible part of the child was a tiny birthmark on its forehead. Alexis thought this was odd since she could not recall ever having a birthmark. She compared that photo with one of her own newborn pictures, and on her photo, there was no birthmark.
Alexis took the photo to her parents and asked, ‘Who is this?’
Her mother and father looked at each other before her father spoke, ‘Where did you find that photo?’
‘It was in mom’s photo album of when I was born.’
Her mother replied, ‘You shouldn’t be meddling in things that don’t belong to you. Give me the photo.’ Alexis handed the photo to her mother, who quickly stashed it inside her bathrobe pocket. ‘Go do your homework, Alexis. Stop looking at photos.’
Alexis was not at all satisfied with the way her parents responded. She kept an eye on her mother from the staircase to see what she did with the photo. After her mother threw it in the trash, Alexis retrieved it. She took it with her to youth group that night and stared at it while Pastor Rich spoke. Afterwards, Alexis ignored the other youth, staying on the couch to stare at the picture instead. As she sat on the couch, Pastor Rich’s voice came from behind her, ‘I think you should come with me, Alexis.’
After the two went into Pastor Rich’s office and had a lengthy conversation, Alexis learned that she has a brother who was born retarded, Alex. Her parents could not bear the thought of raising the child, so they put him in the local assisted living facility. Since then, Pastor Rich has visited the boy so Alex could have a friend.
Pastor Rich confessed to Alexis how he kept track of what Alexis was doing through life. He told her, ‘When you became old enough to enter youth group, I had your friend Jessi invite you here. I knew there would be a time you would want to meet your brother, and I wanted to be the person to tell you about him. No other person would tell you, for only I and your parents know of Alex.’ After informing Alexis of this information, Pastor Rich ended the conversation when he said, ‘Nothing more will I tell you, Alexis. You must discover the rest yourself.’
She was angry with her parents for hiding him. Returning home that night she questioned them, ‘Why are you keeping my brother from me?’
Both of her parents were caught unexpectedly. Mr. Zarnowski replied, ‘It’s none of your business, Alexis.’
‘None of my business? It’s my brother!’
Her mother sat on the couch, silent, staring at the floor. Her father continued answering, ‘There are things you don’t understand at your age.’
‘That’s not an answer. Why are you hiding my brother?’
‘Stop asking questions, Alexis!’
Mrs. Zarnowski was crying at this point, ‘Mom? Tell me. You can’t let this happen!’
‘Leave your mother alone! This is between you and me.’
‘No it’s not! She’s the one who gave birth to him, not you! Let her answer for herself.’
Mrs. Zarnowski’s tears came like a dreary rainstorm. Her heart pounded heavily inside her chest. The weight upon her shoulders felt like anvils. She spoke softly beneath her shame, ‘I didn’t want to.’
‘Shut up!’
‘What, Mom? What didn’t you want to do?’
‘Shut up!’
Her voice was ever so faint as the tears clouded her vision, ‘I’m so sorry.’
Mr. Zarnowski was furious, ‘I told you both to shut up! This is over! It’s in the past, now leave it alone!’
Alexis had enough of her father. For sixteen years he talked down to her and made her feel as though she was worthless. She was not going to tolerate it any longer,
‘This is my brother and I am not going to let it go! I want to know what happened and you’re not going to stop me! I’m sick of the way you talk to me! You don’t love me and you never have. If you can’t love me then stay out of my life!’
Her father fell silent, the anger burned in his eyes. His fists clenched. Marching past Alexis, he growled, ‘It should have been you, not the boy,’ before going up the stairs.
Alexis turned back to her mom; her voice softer than it was towards her father,
‘Mom, you have to talk about it. Tell me what happened.’
Alexis paused, letting her mom gather her thoughts and control her tears so she could speak. ‘We did everything we could until the doctors said it was too late.’ Her words were broken by her sorrow, ‘They said I couldn’t have a baby.’
‘Who said?’
‘The doctors. They said I was barren. But then Alex and you happened. Miracles.But Alex, oh, Alex. I didn’t want to leave him.’
‘Then bring him home, mom.’
‘No!’ Mr. Zarnowski’s stern voice came from the bottom of the stairs. He was back, and angrier. ‘I will not have a retard in this home!’
‘That retard is your son, my brother!’
‘I don’t care who he is. He’s an effing retard and I won’t let him step in my home.’
Tears were streaming down her mother’s face. She was uncontrollable.
‘What is your problem against them?’
‘They killed my parents!’
The silence was not broken until Mrs. Zarnowski picked up her glass from the coffee table, threw it across the room, and let out a heart-wrenching cry from deep within. Mr. Zarnowski fell upon his knees, tears pouring down his cheeks as his haunting past was set free from the bondage of regret. Alexis, stunned, only stood there. Her mom folded her arms across her own stomach and rocked back and forth on the couch as she cried and cried. Her father did the same upon his knees as he cried over and over, ‘Mom. Dad.’
Alexis’s voice was gentle, ‘Dad, what are you talking about? I thought Grandma and Grandpa died in a car accident.’
Her father wiped his maudlin face before he spoke, ‘They called him, The Retard. Everyone called him, The Retard. We watched a samurai movie, and The Retard asked me how the people did not really die when they were stabbed in the movie. I showed him the theater trick of putting the sword between your arm and side. He thought it was so cool. So one night, he picked up my father’s swords and performed the trick with my parents; but he got it wrong. He really did stab them. He killed my parents. The Retard killed my parents.’
‘Stop using retard.’
‘I can’t, I didn’t know his real name. I didn’t know my own brother’s name.’
‘Your brother?’ Alexis was kneeling beside her father, taking in every word. Her mother’s weeping subsided to a silent stream.
‘Yes.’
‘What do you mean didn’t?’
‘They charged him with premeditated murder. He received the death penalty.’
Alexis did not how to respond. She was shocked. Everything she believed about her family just came into question. Everything her parents told her became caught in a tornado of lies. She felt sick. Her stomach churned. In an attempt to take it all in,Alexis left and went in her room.
Her parents remained where Alexis left them and continued to cry out their secrets.
Alexis wanted to visit Alex, but knew it would upset her parents all the more.
Instead, she had Pastor Rich come home and counsel the family. After a couple of weeks, Alexis went to the assisted living facility. She walked into the large cafeteria and looked around nervously. By the birthmark on his forehead, Alexis recognized her brother. Alex sat in a chair, his knees pulled to his chest with one hand, the index finger of the other hand in his nose, and rocking back and forth. Alexis wept. She approached Alex and introduced herself, ‘Hi, Alex. My name is Alexis. I’m your sister.’
The two following her in the room spoke in unison, ‘And I’m your mother.’
‘And I’m your father.’
PJ German – former editor in chief for two semesters and current student advisor of Elektraphrog, president of Swamp Scribes, student blogger for the SCF website, and teacher aid in the English lab – does much more writing than he has time for. He is graduating in 2010 with his A.A., and will attend USF in the fall to continue his education in English.