Beyond the end

My brother

The following week spent feverishly. Brandon detonated the bomb he was working on with Barrett. The report was taken up by the major newspapers, the phones went on fire, a series of burst arrests came out. Brandon recognized Detective Woods on television. After Sammy's story, cautiously hidden in the shadows and silence, these arrests had caught the eye. The city council had been totally dismantled. In New York they were excited. The Chronical had come out not only with the scoop, but also with a detailed set of feedback.
The FBI was quick to arrive and seize the evidence. They took everything and quickly.
"A great job," Phiilp told him on the phone " really great."
"Thank you," replied Brandon, "but it's not just my credit."
"I think there will be big news for you now that you come back to Washington"
"Like what?"
"... we'll talk about it when you get back. But don't be surprised if this kind of article will go far"
Brandon smiled. How far can a man go? And where does a man really go? He thought about.
When he hung up the phone he felt satisfied, like when you do something extremely tiring and can finish it on time.
He was happy and above all the work had distracted him from anything else. The work was his comfort zone and he found absolutely nothing wrong with it, often it had been the only thing he had and clung to it.
The office had strengthened, the newspaper was pulling big, now it was also opening the online section. Walsh pulled out all the resumes to choose who to give a new opportunity. He remembered Brian Ward. The boy who chased him one morning. What he had reminded him was young and full of hope. BW. He hadn't noticed that he had his own initials. A sign? How would his life have been if Barret had hired him years earlier?
Kelly hadn't looked for him. The trauma of Sammy's loss had obscured her gaze. She had made her morbid towards the baby. She did not allow anyone to relieve the deep wound that had marked her on fire. Brandon felt it , the fear had been terrible. Something able to take your breath away. Those days had forced him to make decisions, it was better to go back to Washington and forget everything. It was the right thing to do. Brandon didn't want to feel that pain pressing on his watertight compartments. That pushes so hard that he could crack them.
"Mr. Walsh?"
"Yes Betty?"
" your sister is here..."
Brenda came in his office.
They had lived so far away that this was the first time Brenda set foot in her working life. It was nice to see her there. A woman very far from the insecure little girl with whom he chatted in the bathroom. He got up and kissed her on the cheek.
"What are you doing here?"
"You're gone, you don't answer the phone. I came to look for you."
"I had a lot of job"
"Yes, I saw. I read the newspaper, but I have the impression that you are just avoiding."
Brandon did not answer. He was avoiding.
"What can I do for you?"
"I wanted to tell you I'm going back to London" Brenda stopped for a few seconds "without Dylan."
Brenda's eyes were urgent. Instilled of a force that Brandon couldn't grasp. An anomalous strangeness that Brandon liked and that he wanted for him.
"Raynolds called me. They took my script. They will make a musical. Big opportunities. I have to go back there. There are castings and so on."
Brandon felt a sincere happiness for his sister. Because he knew what it meant to have love and passion for work and that work was one of the pillars that held people's lives. The others were the children. And love. Basically Brandon and Brenda stood on one leg with brazen dignity.
"What about Dylan?"
Brenda snapped up to look out.
"Los Angeles," she whispered as she admired the city "I never thought I'd come back again, you know?"
SHe turned around and saw his brother's gaze still placed on her waiting for an answer.
"Dylan stays here with Sammy," she said, "after what happened he doesn't feel like leaving and I can't wait him. I can't change things. They have a son. It is something that will have to look in the face forever who is with him. I love him, I'm sure of that, but there are bigger things. I would like him to choose me. But it's no longer about Kelly now it's about Sammy and I don't want to fight this war."
Brandon listened to her in silence, he knew exactly what she was talking about. It was clear that Brenda was talking about herself but she was also talking about him.
"It hurts, huh?" Brenda asked.
"Yes," Brandon replied defenselessly, "it hurts."
Brenda looked at him digging into him with her eyes.
"What" He asked.
" Bran...It is comfortable to never get lost in front of anything? No infected wounds? No throbbing plague? No suture stitches or dark room that scares. Isn't it? Sometimes," Brenda told her brother, "you should go beyond your pride. You should try."
"What do you mean?"
Brenda smiled and kissed him "we two see each other, talk to each other, let's get away. You call me, I'll call you." He touched his yellowed bruise near the corner of his mouth. The mark of those months.
"Congratulations. I read and loved your work," she added.
SHe squeezed him hard. She sank her face in the smell of her brother. Aftershave, words, sleepless nights. He was her ancestral bond that still lasted, that did not scratch, that Brandon attracted to herself.
"Good luck" he whispered in her ear.
"Good luck"