Brother's Keeper

After my sister-in-law Lydia had my brother Caleb's kidney removed and spent three years draining his blood, he escaped back to our hometown barely alive. He lay on a bed at the clinic, holding my hand tight as he said, "Noah, don't go after them. You can't afford to cross Lydia's family." Three days later, he died in my arms. I buried him on the hillside behind the town, under the old oak tree he had loved to climb as a child. On the seventh day after I buried him, a black Maybach stopped at the edge of town. Lydia got out with a frail man who looked like he could fall over at any time. She stood outside my house's door and looked at me. "Noah, where's your brother? Tell him to come out. Evan needs bone marrow this time." I wiped the dirt from my hands and raised my head as I smiled. "You want to find Caleb, right? Then start digging." Chapter 1 When I heard a car engine at the edge of the town, I was in the yard feeding the chickens. I knew that sound. I didn't look up and simply threw the corn to the ground. The footsteps came closer. I heard a man's voice, softened on purpose. "Lydia, are you sure this is the place? It's so remote." I raised my head and looked up. A woman stood on the stone tiles outside my yard. The tiles were made higher than the ground itself. She was tall and thin, wearing a dark gray coat. The metal clasps at her cuffs caught the sun. She wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and her expression was cold. Lydia, from the Lane family. My sister-in-law. A man stood next to her. His skin was very pale, but his cheeks were rosy. He wore a dark blue cashmere coat and polished leather boots with his heels sunk into the mud. He frowned, as if he had stepped in something filthy. Evan Jackson. He was Lydia's first love. I had seen his photo on Caleb's phone. "Are you Noah Shaw?" Lydia's voice was lower than I expected, with the tone of someone used to wield authority and condescension. "Yes," I nodded. "Where's your brother?" She asked. I dusted the flakes from the corn from my hands and stood up straight. She was on the tile, and I was in the yard, so I had to raise my head to look at her. "Dead," I said. The air went quiet for a moment before Evan let out a soft laugh and nudged Lydia with his elbow. His voice was not loud, but it carried just far enough for me to hear. "I told you he wouldn't come back willingly, but you didn't believe me." Lydia frowned. There was no grief there, only impatience. "Noah, I don't have time for your jokes. Evan needs a bone marrow transplant as soon as possible, and Caleb is the best matching donor. Tell him to come out and come back with me." "I told you. He's dead," I said. Evan stepped forward and tilted his head as he looked at me. His eyes held a kind of condescending pity. "Little Noah, did you get the wrong idea about Caleb?" His voice was gentle, as if he were enticing a child. "Your brother got upset with us and came back here for a few days. We understand that. But my life is at stake. Can you tell him not to be so stubborn, alright?" "What did you call me?" I asked as I raised my brow. "Little Noah," he said calmly. "Caleb's my best friend. His little brother is my little brother too." Best friend. I almost laughed out loud. Would a best friend sleep with your wife? Would a best friend turn your wife against you until she treated you like an enemy? Would a best friend take one of your kidneys without a shred of guilt? I looked at Evan's rosy face and suddenly remembered something. Three months ago, Caleb called me. Halfway through the call, he suddenly took a deep breath, then he said, "It's fine. A cup broke." Only later did I learn it had not been a cup. It was Lydia smashing the phone into his face because he had refused to sign a consent form to donate blood to Evan. Chapter 2 "You should leave." I turned and headed back inside. "Caleb is already gone." Lydia came into the yard in two steps and grabbed my arm. Her manicure was long, and her nails dug into my flesh hard enough to make me wince. She asked, "I'll ask you one more time. Where is he?" "Let go," I told her. "I'm not leaving today unless you tell me," she said with a growl. I stared at her hand. It was the same hand that had once held Caleb's arm in their wedding photos. And with that same hand, she had ordered her men to choke him and pin him against a wall. Caleb had told me what that suffocation felt like. "Noah, when she had them choke me, I saw black spots dancing on the ceiling." "Let. Go." I slowly forced out each word. Evan tugged at Lydia's sleeve from behind. "Lydia, don't do this. He's still a kid. Why don't we go inside and sit down? Can we talk to him properly?" Lydia let go and took a deep breath, as if she were holding back her anger. "Caleb really is dead," I said. Lydia's composure finally cracked. But what came underneath was not grief, but rage. "Noah, do you know Evan almost died and couldn't be saved because Caleb ran away this time?" Her voice went lower. "I forgave him the last time he ran. This time, he ran again and even taught you to lie to me. Does he think this will make me feel sorry for him? Does he think I'll go back and look for him?" She stepped closer and looked down at me. "Tell him to stop dreaming! He means nothing to me when Evan is here. If it isn't because his blood type and bone marrow hadn't been useful, I never would have married him in the first place." I raised my head and looked into her eyes. Caleb had told me Lydia once loved him. In the first year of their marriage, she dried his hair for him. She stayed up all night when he was sick. She drove across half the city just because he had mentioned wanting toasted pine nuts. Then Evan came back, and everything changed. Evan "accidentally" mentioned that Caleb had eaten with another woman. Evan "carelessly" let Caleb see his chat history with Lydia. Evan "thoughtfully" advised Lydia that Caleb might just be too lonely. Slowly, Lydia began to doubt Caleb. She began to suspect him and found him disgusting. In the end, all that love turned into hatred. Enough hatred that she wanted Caleb's kidney to be cut out and given to another man. "I'm not lying to you," I said. Lydia sneered, then turned to Evan. "Evan, wait in the car. I need a proper talk with him." Evan nodded. When he walked past me, he stopped, leaned close to my ear, and whispered so only I could hear. "How pitiful is your brother. He's such a coward, he'd rather fake his death and hide." My nails dug into my palms, but I said nothing. Chapter 3 Evan left. Meanwhile, Lydia sat on the couch in the living room and lit a cigarette. Then, she asked, "Alright. Tell me where Caleb is hiding." I did not answer. My eyes went through the half-closed door and landed on the black Maybach outside the yard. Evan was leaning back in the seat, scrolling through his phone. He was the picture of health. What about Caleb? The last time he appeared in front of me, his skin was pale, his lips were gray, and his eyes were sunken. He looked like a walking bag of skin. They had been draining his blood for three years. It wasn't some ordinary blood donation. They drew blood from him every few days, four hundred cc each time. The nurse said that could kill someone, but Lydia simply said, "He's fine. Give him something sugary and he'll recover." Every time Evan had an episode, Caleb had to give blood to him. When Evan's kidney function declined, Caleb had to give him his kidney. When Evan needed a bone marrow transplant, Lydia locked Caleb in the basement so that they could take it from him. Caleb had tried fighting back. He tried to go on a hunger strike. But after three days without food, Lydia brought him a meal and said, "If you starve to death, who will pay Noah's college tuition?" So Caleb ate. He tried calling the police. But when the police came, Lydia simply held up their marriage certificate and said, "It's a family matter. We're just having an argument." Then the police left. He tried to run away, but he managed to reach less than two-hundred miles before he was caught and dragged back into the basement before being locked up for seven days. Only Evan came to see him. During those seven days, Evan would hold a bowl of oats and softly said, "Caleb, don't blame Lydia. She only did this because of me. If you want to blame someone, blame me." Then he poured the cooked oats onto Caleb's face. "Is it hot? Sorry. I didn't mean to." When Caleb told me those things, he didn't cry. He only looked at the ceiling and said, "Noah, sometimes I would think how different things would be if I managed to run away the first time." His first attempt was during the second year of his marriage. He fell from a wall and fractured his tailbone, then crawled two miles to the highway entrance before Lydia's people caught him. The second attempt was after the kidney removal. He was lying in a hospital bed and the anesthesia had not fully worn off. While the nurses were not paying attention, he ran outside in his hospital gown. Security guards pinned him down in the lobby, and Lydia rushed over and slapped him in front of everyone. "Are you mad?!" she said. On the third attempt, he succeeded. He cut his wrist with a shard from a broken bowl in the basement. Lydia panicked and sent him to the hospital. During the chaos in the emergency room, he ran in his slippers. He took a bus for an entire day. When he got off, he collapsed into muddy water. The wound at his waist had split open, blood and pus flowed out together. I carried him to the town clinic. When the doctor lifted his shirt, I vomited. There was a fist-sized hollow on his side. It was the mark left by a missing kidney. The surgical cut had been stitched and torn open, torn open and stitched again. The flesh had split, and the pale-yellow tissue beneath it could be seen. The skin was blackened and stiff, like dead flesh that had been made rotten again and again. Caleb lay in the clinic's bed and told me, "Noah, don't go after Lydia. You can't afford to cross the Lanes. Just pretend you never had a brother." I said alright. Three days later, he died. At five seventeen in the morning, the heart monitor became a flat line. I collapsed in the hallway and wailed. I buried him under the old oak tree on the hill behind the town. The mayor, Mrs. Dora Smith, found a carpenter right away to build the coffin. It was pine, unpainted. Caleb lay inside wearing his favorite white shirt. When I took the shirt out, I found a hole in the collar. He didn't even have one decent shirt left. Evan had taken all his good shirts. "Caleb, this jacket looks great. Can I borrow it?" "Caleb, this watch is so nice. Lydia gave it to you, right? I envy you so much." Once Evan borrowed something, he never returned it. Once he wore something, he never took it off. Caleb said nothing because he did not dare. If he said anything, Lydia would call him petty. If he said anything, Evan would look upset. If he said anything, everyone would think he was a jealous husband. "Noah, I'm asking you a question." Lydia's voice pulled me back into the present. "Where exactly is Caleb?" She asked again, clearly losing patience. "Lydia Lane," I said, using her full name. "Have you ever loved Caleb?" The question was enough to stun her for a moment, but her brows drew tighter. "Why are you asking that?" "Answer me," I asked. She was silent for a few seconds, then turned her face aside. "I did, but he changed. He became jealous, cruel, and unreasonable. He wouldn't even leave Evan alone when Evan was sick. He ran into the ward and pulled out Evan's IV line. Do you think a man like that is still worth loving?" Caleb pulled out Evan's IV line? Caleb couldn't even make himself kill a hen. How could he pull out another person's IV line? I knew the truth. Evan had deliberately turned his IV drip to the fastest setting, then screamed for the nurse and said Caleb had touched his line. When Lydia rushed in, Evan shrank into the corner of the hospital bed and looked at her with red eyes. "Caleb probably didn't do it on purpose..." There were no cameras. There were no witnesses. There was only Evan's word, and Caleb had no way to defend himself. Lydia believed Evan. From then on, she never looked at Caleb the same way again. The look that said, "I'll protect you," became the look that said, "I'm watching you." "He didn't pull it out," I said. Lydia stared at me for three seconds, then laughed. "You're just like him. Nothing but lies." She stood and looked down at me. "I'll give you one more day. By this time tomorrow, I want to see Caleb. Otherwise, your college, your degree, and the company you want to work for after graduation… Everything can be ruined with just one word from my family. Do you understand?" I understood. Caleb had understood, too. So every time they drew his blood, every time they took something from his body, he simply gritted his teeth and said, "Fine." Because he was afraid I would not have a good life. Lydia turned and left. The black Maybach raised a cloud of dust as it drove off. I stood there and watched the dust slowly settle on my hair, my shoulders, and somewhere deep inside me. Chapter 4 Lydia didn't come the next day. She didn't come on the third day, either. I thought she had given up. Before dawn on the fourth day, a violent pounding woke me. Not knocking, pounding. The gate clanged, and I almost felt the whole house shaking. Before I could open the door, someone kicked it in from outside. The door crashed to the floor and sent up a cloud of dust. Lydia stood in the doorway with four men in black behind her. Her flashlight shone straight into my face, stinging my eyes so badly I could not open them. "Three days." Her voice was hoarse, and her eyes were red, as if she hadn't slept in days. "I gave you three days. Where's Caleb?!" Evan poked his head out from behind her. This time, he wasn't smiling. He looked worse today, and his lips were a little pale. It looked like he was having another episode. But when he looked at me, his eyes held certainty. He knew Lydia would do anything for him. "He's dead," I said. Lydia walked in, but I didn't move. She came up to me and held my jaw, then forced my face up. Her fingers were cold, and her grip was strong. Her finger bones pressed into my jaw until it hurt. "Noah, Evan's bone marrow transplant can't wait any longer. If you still refuse to tell me, I'll have people search this entire town. I'll even dig into the ground if I have to, but I will find Caleb!" "Then dig," I said. She let go and stepped back before telling the four men behind her, "Go! Search every room!" The four men spread out and opened every drawer and closet. Bowls and plates broke. Cabinets crashed over. Caleb's photo frame hit the floor. I did not move. I stood in the center of the front room and looked at Lydia. She walked to the doorway of Caleb's room and stopped at the threshold. There was nothing in the room. There was a lonely bed, an old wardrobe, and curtains fluttering in the wind. The moonlight was falling on the empty bed. Lydia stood there, motionless. "He really isn't here," I said. She suddenly turned and walked right to me. This time, she didn't grab my jaw. She seized my collar and shoved me backward. I fell back and hit the wall. The back of my head struck the brick with a thud, and I thought I could hear buzzing in my ears. She pressed her forearm against my throat and leaned her whole weight into me. I was half a head taller than her, but she had thrown herself at me with terrifying force. My back was pinned hard against the wall, and she pressed my neck so hard I could barely breathe. "Where is he?!" she roared, loud enough to be able to tear the roof off if she went any louder. "Let go..." My vision was going black. "I asked you where he is!" Evan suddenly called from behind her, "Lydia, don't do this!" But his voice was very soft, and he barely took a step forward. Lydia's hand trembled. Not from guilt, but from panic. Evan's body couldn't hold out anymore. She needed Caleb's marrow now. If Caleb kept hiding, Evan might die, and she couldn't accept that. She didn't care whether Caleb was dead or alive. A chill went down my spine. As my hatred for this woman reached its peak, I suddenly calmed down. I forced myself to make a sound and said, "Let go, and I'll take you there." Her arm loosened a little, but she didn't fully release me. "Are you telling the truth?" "Yes." I coughed, and blood seeped from the corner of my mouth. "Let me go, and I'll take you to Caleb." She stared into my eyes for five seconds, then let go. I slid to the ground instantly, my knee landed on a broken piece of bowl, cutting it open. Blood ran down my calf. I put my hands against the floor and stood up, then wiped the corner of my mouth. "Let's go," I said. Lydia's face eased a little as Evan smiled faintly. "Where is he?" Lydia asked. "On the hill behind the town, under the old oak tree," I said. "What's he doing there?" Lydia asked. "Waiting for the person he was waiting for," I answered. Lydia frowned, but she didn't ask anything else. She turned and walked outside, with Evan following behind her. I walked at the back, across my yard and onto the muddy road behind the town. The wind was howling. Many of the leaves on the old oak tree had fallen. The bare branches reached toward the sky, like a person stretching out their arms. Caleb was buried under that tree. The new soil had already dried, and a few weeds had grown over it. I had piled several stones into a small grave mound. There was no tombstone, only a wooden board with a few words written in paint using a paint brush. Caleb Shaw. Lydia stood before the grave. She looked at the mound, then at the wooden board, then back at me. "What is this?" Her voice was still calm when she asked, but her hand was already trembling. Evan stood two steps behind her, and the smile on his face finally vanished. I walked to the grave and crouched down, pulling the weeds from the mound by hand. "Weren't you looking for Caleb?" I said as I stood up and turned to look at Lydia. The wind blew my bangs into my eyes, but I didn't brush it aside. "He's right here."