This is the tale of two boys. We call it a tale because as boys, there is the truth, stretching of the truth, and just a little fiction to add flavor. We are brothers Bob and Jim, whose birthday is the same day, exactly one year apart.
Our story begins at an age we can barely remember, but do, because of Newton's Third Law which preceded most of our antics. In fact, most of our vivid memories are based on the aftermath of our actions always causing an equal and opposite reaction.
We have a very large family which eventually grew to ten children peppered with a wide array of uncles, and aunts. Christmas, a time of joyous celebration was eagerly awaited by us all. Even at the young age of 4 and 5, we already knew what our presents held. We figured out how to sneak a peek and it was so successful a ploy, we used for years. We will not however, disclose our secret procedure here because we are still trying to decide if we want to file for a patent.
The hardest part of knowing what we got for Christmas was having to act surprised when we opened our presents. Yes, we were that good; nobody suspected the genius and mischief behind those innocent eyes. Today, and due to popular belief, or disbelief, within the family, we vehemently defend our genius.
This Christmas, we were old enough to get snow shovels, parents are not always as incompetent as we like to believe, why not shovels? Living in the cold, snowy north, we got a lot of snow, and this year was no exception. Looking back on those snow shovels, we figure we really got the worst of the deal because if we shoveled the snow, under the guise of fun, the adults could sit back and laugh at the two young idiots doing all their shoveling.
A scam that would not be forgotten by us and one that would carry over to future generations.
Shoveling snow however, turned out to be a short-lived adventure. We were, from the beginning very competitive. At this young age you would have thought we would simply throw a few shovels of snow, get bored and quit.
Not us, we divided the sidewalk in half. As the oldest, I got the biggest half. At 5 years, neither of us knew, especially Jim, what a bigger half was, but as a visionary, I had a pretty good Idea.
It was cold, but it was not snowing. If we remember correctly, and we do, since there is no one to dispute our recollection, there was about 4" of snow on the sidewalk.
We received several gifts besides those snow shovels, but neither of us can remember any of them. We probably would not even remember those silly little shovels if it had not been for little brother's violation of our terms of agreement pertaining to what was his and what was my half of the sidewalk.
Granted, if was both a verbal and visual agreement, but an agreement none the less. In our early years, I was the meticulous brother; Jim was the one who charged full boat into just about anything he did. We would experience a shift in this behavior, as we grew older. Anyway, we got all bundled up in our coats, boots, scarves, and hats; then headed out to try out our new snow shovels.
After careful measuring and equal division of the sidewalk area by me, we began to shovel the walk. Remember, Jim was the hurry up and get it done boy, and boy, did he get it done. He finished his half of the sidewalk before I finished about a third of mine. Jim's side was haphazardly shoveled with splotches of snow everywhere; mine was scrapped clean and shoveled the way a sidewalk should be shoveled.
Now, here is where Jim made his first major mistake in his relationship with me.
Up to now everything was shared equally. There were no disputes either of us can recall occurring prior to this cold winter night. However, now that we think about it, we were very young and since no memory shaking event happened up to this fateful night, we are confident we did not quarrel or fight, but lived in harmony.
When Jim decided to help me shovel my side of the sidewalk, our first ever memory shaking event materialized. It was over fifty-five years ago yet, it was as if it happened yesterday.
As Jim began to shovel on my side, I became furious he violated my sanctuary and was shoveling my side in the same haphazard fashion he had done on his own side, not that it would have made a difference if he had been respectful and meticulous. Without thinking, because if I had thought, I would not have reacted as I did, raising the shovel above my head, I let Jim have a whack on the top of his head. To this day, I swear I never intended to hurt Jim, but only to scare him into returning to his half of the sidewalk. Remembering, for every action, although unknown to me until this night, there is always an equal and opposite reaction, fate was set in motion.
The action of hitting Jim on the head was immediate. Initially, came the blood curdling scream, in this case it was not faked, then came the blood, it was a lot of blood. I thought it was funny and deserved...at first, and have no recollection of Jim disappearing into the house. He moved that quick, only his bloodied body being thrown into the car and raced to the hospital alerted me that Jim was not hurt as bad as I was going to be.
Now, we said we had a lot of family. Unfortunately for me, Jim got the sympathy and I got the wrath of all the relatives producing an equal, or should we say unequal reaction, which turned out in my case to be prophetic, and excessive in relationship to the few stitches Jim received.
When Jim got back, he thought it was funny that I got a licking and had no clue how lucky he was the shovels had been taken away. Jim survived and would develop a trusting, one-sided relationship with me, one-sided because I was always the giver and Jim was always the receiver.
This was the first of many scars Jim would receive throughout his developmental childhood which he attributes to me. On the other hand, I received none. He did, as his actions came to dictate, come to hate Sir Isaac Newton and his law, "for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." At least, as it pertained to me.
No matter what you write, someone will love it.
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