I knocked hesitantly on the door, the moonlight seeping through the trees on a cloudless night in July. I fiddled with my car keys and shifted my weight from one pink flip-flop to another. I knocked again, more confident this time. The door looked as if it had once been painted white, but had over time taken on a dull, peeling shade. The door suddenly swung open and light poured out onto the dirty sidewalk. I took a step back as my twenty three year old brother, Dave, came into view.
�Hello?� he mumbled into the dark, I thought I saw a cat dart past his legs, meowing.
�It�s me, Juliet.�
�Come on in.�
If he was surprised to see me, I couldn�t tell. I stepped into his worn apartment, my eyes slowly adjusting to the bright lights. It was cleaner than I remembered, though there was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, and a pool of glue was forming on the carpet.
Dave motioned for me to sit down as he shut the door. I nodded and studied him for a second. His hair was getting longer and he wore torn jean shorts and a faded t-shirt. They were very much like my brother�a little faded, but still wearable. I hadn�t seen him in a few months, since April, when our father had run off with his secretary.
�So, Jules, what brings you over at this hour?�
I stared at the dirty blue carpet, �You weren�t at my graduation.�
He sighed, �I know, and I�m sorry.�
I ran a finger through my ratty brown hair and watched aimlessly as he strode over to the chalkboard hanging on the far wall. I saw that he was in the middle of one of his infamous chalk drawings. When we were younger and he lived at home, he was always drawing on his chalkboard. Sometimes I would catch a glimpse of his work and I would stare at how easily he could capture anything�a stapler, a bottle or a television remote.
�I was hoping for more than a �sorry� Dave.�
�Yeah? Like what? A car?�
I shook my head, �No. But maybe you could ask me about it.� He was still drawing, I could see the outline of a face, and I smiled to myself when I saw that he was drawing me. I could make out my nose, and a bit of an eyebrow. Once again, he amazed me with his skill. Dave had drawn me before, at different ages.
�How are Mom and Dad?�
�Mom�s been working a double shift at the store most nights, she gets a lot of cotton candy during the carnival.�
Our Mom worked at the local grocery store. I didn�t mention Dad and I knew Dave was overlooking that fact.
�That�s good.�
He got up from his perch on his stool and I saw his work in it�s entirety for the first time. It was a profile of me, and I grinned at him as he walked over to me and sat down on the couch.
�How do you like it?�
�I like it a lot.�
�Good. So do I.�
He slid his arm around me and gave a me a tight squeeze.

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All materials © 2005 Grace Babcock