My brother and I, we were here for every game. Till he left for the war. I thought it’d be the same when he came back, but, uh, he talked a little less and drank a little more. I promised my mother I would help him get through it all. So I caught up with him this one night and I was already half a dozen drinks behind. So we had a few more. And after awhile, he tells me he wants to drive me back to the apartment. Heh, I said, “No, thanks.” We were all still living there then. I just stood there and watched him drive off. Makes it through the whole goddamn war and I let him drive. Later that night, the nurse was typing whatever it is they type and you know what she tells me? She tells me how much my book meant to her. My brother’s getting cold in the next room and all she can talk about is a book. Well…everything changed from then on. Within five months, I buried him, my ma, my father. All of them here in the Bronx. We’d spend our summers here. And if we were lucky, the fall.
Finding Forrester, William Forrester