My brother was seven years younger than me. Despite the age difference, I remember us being good buddies. We had our brotherly disputes of course, and I used to be quite an ass to him, but Charlie liked everyone, and everyone liked Charlie. He was very inquisitive, sometimes to the extent of annoying the hell out of me and seemed to be interested in learning and collecting everything at once. From stones from our stream to postage stamps, from inspecting worms with his magnifying glass to learning star constellations – nothing escaped his awestruck attention. You could often hear him laughing victoriously somewhere in the house or outside when he made another discovery of the day. I aways wondered where that energy came from and why I didn’t have that element in my DNA. I did my best to keep him away from my so-called entrepreneurial attempts. He always wanted to be around me, but I didn’t always let him. There was nothing bad or negative about him. Despite all the nonsense that teenagers usually go through, I think I was proud of having such a brother even without realizing it at the time. When he disappeared, it felt like a black void appeared inside of me that had been slowly growing ever since.
I blamed my negligence for his disappearance. For years, I had the same nightmare where Charlie was calling my name, and I couldn’t find him. I would be running around our house looking for him. I could hear his voice, but I just couldn’t find him. I would wake up screaming and it would take a minute or two before I’d realize that it was a dream. The countless hours of therapy gradually changed the dream to the one where I’d just watch Charlie running through the park. Well, the therapy and the “exciting” combination of drugs, alcohol and quite a bit of casual sex. Theoretically, one could’ve called it a breakthrough, but I had tried to forget the day it’d happened and had been avoiding the topic with everyone, including my parents. Today, however, it seemed that there was no way around it. So, there it was.
“You might remember that Maple Grove House isn’t the biggest manor around but quite spacious,” I began.
“Indeed,” Jared said. “Ten bedrooms, isn’t it?”
“Yes, plus five or six other rooms for different activities so to speak.”
Another round of beer magically appeared on our table. This time it was accompanied by a bowl with walnuts.
Walnuts in a pub?It’s his place.
Jared took a sip from his fresh glass, started cracking the nuts and throwing them in his mouth rather skillfully.
“Anyway,” I said after admiring his cracking-and-throwing technique for a second. “Charlie loved to play hide-and-seek for hours with me because there was so much space that we could use. Our parents were often too preoccupied with their guests to spend any time with us. So, we were left to our own devices when we were there. That was of course only during summer and winter breaks. Then we sort of played it less and less.”
“I do remember that,” Jared said. “I also remember wanting to play with you so much, but the house was off limits to the servants’ kids. We could use the playground though, which was quite generous of your parents.”
