Thicker Than Water

Details:
(Prompt: What if a character finds out they have a sibling they didn’t know about?)
(250 words up to 3000 words) Deadline March 15th

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Thicker Than Water

By Indelibleink

Frank Lee could barely contain himself as the day drew closer. “Honey, I’m going to meet my brother in six more days!”  He took another sip from his coffee mug and waited for his wife to look up from the newspaper.

“Yes, dear, I can count, you know. Yesterday it was seven days, and, you know what? According to my calculations, tomorrow it will be five days. Yippee. I still don’t understand all the excitement, though. You are forty-six years old, Frank. It’s not like you’re going to go out and play in the sandbox with your little brother, you know. And, I don’t want to be totally negative about this, but, to be honest, this whole scenario just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”

“Honey, my very own father told us about Bruce. Isn’t that legitimate enough for you? How much more validation do we need? And why can’t we play in the sandbox?”

Mary laughed at her husband’s humor, but quickly became serious once again. “Frank, I don’t need to remind you that your father was hopped up on morphine – on his deathbed, for crying out loud – when he made those statements. You’re not going to question their legitimacy – not even one teensy-weensy little bit?”

“People don’t make stuff up when they’re at the end of the line, Mary. Even if they’re ‘hopped up’ as you put it. Think about it for a second: He said that ‘he was sorry he hadn’t told me some things’, and that he was ‘sorry he hadn’t told me about my brother Bruce’, which sounds pretty lucid to me.”

Mary folded up the newspaper, got up from her chair, and began to clear the breakfast dishes from the kitchen table. At the sink, somewhat exasperated, she looked back at Frank. “Lucid? Lucid? Frank, now maybe you should think about it! Your father said you had a brother named Bruce Lee? And wasn’t your father always a fan of the martial arts movies of the 70’s? Maybe your dad was delirious, or just playing out some fantasy as he was dying. It might be as simple as that. Or, maybe it was a flashback to some experience he had in the army.”

“And the guy who’s coming over in six days is a figment of his imagination? Can you rationalize that as a flashback, too?”

“Frank, remember how your mom - on the rare occassions that she talked about the past - implied that your dad was always in and out of trouble early in their marriage, and how he had so many friends – as well as enemies? All it would take is for someone who knew your father to have seen his death notice in the obits and set up a scam – this kind of stuff is in the newspapers all the time. I’ll bet you anything that at some point he asks you for money.”

“My dad wouldn’t make all of this up on his deathbed. I’m just positive of that.”

“You just be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt by all of this.”

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SIX DAYS LATER

Frank paced back and forth in his living room with the nervous fervor usually attributed to one awaiting the birth of a child. Mary was caught up in the excitement as well, and sounded every bit as excited as Frank when she made the announcement.

“Frank, there’s a taxi pulling in our drive!”

Nearly bowling his wife over en route to the front door, Frank swung it open so eagerly that the hinges were severely tested. About to open the screen door to welcome his “brother,” Frank’s hand froze on the door release.

Frank stood face-to-face with a man about seven or eight inches shorter than him, of slight build, jet-black hair, and clearly of Asian descent. The visitor could see the disappointment in Frank’s expression.

“Hello. Frank, I presume? Based upon the look of sorrow that is written upon your face, I am going to guess that I am at the right house. My name is Bruce Lee. It was my father’s wish – make that our father’s wish -- that I contact you after his death.”

Frank still had not relaxed his grip on the handle to the screen door. He was still in a state of shock over the appearance of his so-called sibling. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Frank broke his stare, looked away, and mumbled, “Come in, I’ve been expecting you.” He opened the door about half-way and released it when Bruce was only partially through the doorway, causing it to smack into Bruce’s side. “Sorry,” was the best that Frank could do, and he motioned weakly for Bruce to enter the living room.

Mary, seeing that things were not going particularly well, interceded. “Bruce, please have a seat. Can I get you anything…Pepsi, coffee, tea?”

“Tea would be wonderful, thank you.” Bruce was rubbing and examining the elbow that had apparently caught the edge of the door when it closed, and there was a visible cut just below the forearm. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, is there anywhere I could clean this up with, and perhaps get a Band-Aid?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Lee. Here, let me show you to the bathroom, and get you a washcloth for that cut. There are Band-Aids in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror.”

Mary took Bruce around the corner to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet on the way, and handing it to Bruce. “Let me know if there’s anything else we can get you.”

“Thank you, but this should work just fine.”

As their guest was tending to his bruises, Mary made a bee-line to the living room, where Frank was standing solemnly, looking out the picture window at nothing in particular. Hearing Mary’s approaching footsteps, he sighed. “Yes, you were totally right, dear. This guy’s a complete phony. You know, I really expected – him being my brother and all – that there would be some similarities between us. Never in a million years did I expect this!”

Mary could read the disappointment that was written all over her husband's face. "Frank, I'm so, so sorry. I know how much this meant to you and..."

"And you're very upset because you wanted Jack Bauer, but instead you got Mr. Miyagi, right?" Bruce had entered the room without either Mary or Frank hearing him come in.

Frank immediately covered most of the entire color spectrum by virtue of the number of shades of red his face displayed. Bruce couldn't help but laugh at his brother's embarrassment."That's okay...it is entirely understandable. Personally, I was hoping you were going to look like Jackie Chan, so we're both a little disappointed, right? Listen - I realize that this is uncomfortable for both of us, so maybe this was a bad idea. But, father had asked that I try to contact you after his death to give you some items and things he wanted you to have. There is a big chest full of items, including information about how we came to be brothers. I couldn't bring the chest as it is very heavy and would have been very expensive for me to transport it here. All I ask is that you help defray the cost of shipping by paying half of the cost."

Frank looked over at Mary, who rolled her eyes back in her head and looked skyward. Frank rose up quickly and
took a couple of quick steps towards Bruce, clenching his fists as he approached him. Mary quickly jumped between the pair to stop her husband. Frank backed off, but motioned towards the door. "Get out. Really, sir, just how stupid do you think we are? Share the expenses to ship a chest, huh? Funny, but dad - oh, I'm sorry, father - never mentioned anything about any chest to me. And you! You're not here more than twenty minutes and - naturally - I have to come up with some money for 'expenses' for some items I'd never even heard of? Sorry, Bruce, or whatever your real name is: your act needs some work. Now, please go before I call the cops."

Bruce raised his hands in protest. "No, no. You misunderstand me, Frank. Those are important documents that father made me promise to get to you safely upon his death, and I am obligated to do just that."

"Well, you know what, Bruce? My father always told me not to be a 'sucker' and warned me about con artists like you.
We both know that you're not my brother. I'm sorry, I must insist that you leave - immediately."

Bruce Lee got up and walked to the door. "I promised father that I would get your items to you. I know you are very angry right now, but it is imperative that you take possession of that which is yours. I will give you some time to think about it - a week or so - and then contact you again. Fair enough?"

Frank studied the man's face as he spoke, and for the first time, he actually felt that Bruce might just be -wrong as he was - sincere to some degree. Plus, Frank had a thought. "Okay, okay, a week might be good. Call me sometime in the middle of the week and we'll set up a meeting."

Bruce smiled upon hearing Frank's words, said "Good-bye," to Frank and Mary, and left the home. Mary looked at her husband with a "What-on-earth-were-you-thinking?" expression.

Her husband smiled back at her. "Relax...I have a plan."

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SEVEN DAYS LATER

 

Bruce Lee took a sip from the steamy cup of tea that Mary had just given him, and sat back in the living room chair. "Ah...that is excellent tea. Thank you, Mary. I am so grateful that we were able to meet again today. Frank, I must say that I am also pleased - and very surprised - that you agreed to share the cost of the delivery of our father's chest, and that the delivery service was able to bring it at the same time I arrived today. Thank you, my brother."

Upon hearing the 'brother' reference, Frank jumped up from the couch and walked over to face Bruce. "How dare you call me your 'brother', pal. I've got news for you: Remember last week, when you cut yourself on the door when you entered the house? Mary gave you a washcloth to clean the blood, remember? Well, my 'brother', on Monday I took the washcloth to a medical lab downtown that does DNA matching. I also gave them a sample of my blood. They explained that two people that share at least one parent will have a significant number of DNA strand 'matches'. And guess what, oh honorable one? We had none - or at least no more than would ordinarily match under the heading of 'random chance'. You know what that means? It means that you're a liar, and a fraud, and a crook."

Bruce, who had remained seated - expressionless - during Frank's tirade, calmly took another sip of tea. "May I speak now?"

Frank glared at Bruce. "Yeah, and it better be damned good, since I'm about to break your stinking jaw."

Bruce walked over to the chest that had been delivered earlier, and unlocked the cover. He opened the chest up, and removed a large manila envelope and took it over and handed it to Frank. "Father didn't want me to say anything without you having the proper documentation. Now, you have the documentation, so I will explain..."

Frank, convinced that he should be throwing punches at - rather than listening to - this guy, was still quite angry, but motioned to Bruce to proceed, while he began to carefully open the envelope.

Bruce remained standing as he spoke. "There is really no easy way to tell this, so I'm going to get right to the point with only a minimum of background: As you are both aware, our father served in the military in the late 60's, and some of the time he was stationed in China. What you don't know is that he was married a Chinese woman, Kwong Sue, and they had a baby boy together. Father had planned on staying in China when his tour of duty was up, but it never got that far. Mother was a political activist and was shot and killed by Chinese police at a protest rally when the baby was less than a year old. Father didn't really know anybody else very well in China - his mastery of the language was poor at best - so he returned to the United States with the baby shorty after his time was up. He felt he could do a better job of raising the baby here."

Frank snorted defiantly. "I just told you what had happened with the DNA tests! Presuming that you were the baby in the wonderful little 'story' you've been telling us, you're still going to stand there and tell me that we are related? That's just ridiculous, man!"

Bruce shook his head slowly from side to side. "Please, let me continue.  Not long after father came home, he met a woman who would one day become your mother. She was eager to have a family, but she wanted no part of a Chinese baby. She made it very clear that would not marry your father if a Chinese baby was part of the deal. Your mother was fairly - how do you say - bigoted. Father was having trouble holding onto a job - he had already begun to drink heavily to try to erase some of the things he'd seen in combat when he had been stationed earlier in Vietnam - and he was worried about caring for his son financially. He then made the decision that he told me he had regretted for the rest of his life: He gave me up for adoption."

Frank, once again sitting on the couch, looked at Mary with a bewildered expression and shrugged, and then turned back to again face Bruce. "You still haven't addressed the DNA issue, my friend."

"I'm almost there. Please bear with me. I think now would be a good time for you to start looking at the contents of that envelope, Frank. Anyway, once I was out of the picture, father and your mother tried to start a family. It was then discovered that your mother could not bear children."

"What?" Frank, upon hearing that last sentence, began to feverishly sift through the documents.

"Yes, Frank. Your mother could not bear children, so your parents were forced to adopt. Your real name is Franklin Wilson Adler, adopted at 6 weeks of age. Your mother had been so obsessed with having a child of her own, that she always acted is if you were from her womb. She even forged many documents as you grew that would have otherwise indicated that you were adopted. She made your father swear to never tell a soul as long as your mother was alive. So, father had a lot of guilt to deal with - between what he saw in the army, experiences with your mother, me, and then you. He had contacted me when I turned age 18; he said that he had no right to 'interfere' with my adoptive parents prior to that. He would visit me briefly as his job circumstances and travel would permit. Your mother never had a clue of our contact. When father found out he was dying, he was so overcome with guilt that he said that as much as he wanted to tell you, he just couldn't tell you - he said that once when you were six or seven he had heard you making fun of a friend who was adopted - and he knew that you would be devastated. I had tried to convince him to tell you himself; for I knew that me telling you - under these circumstances - would be difficult. I hope that now you understand my position, Frank."

Frank couldn't hear Bruce. In fact, he had stopped listening minutes earlier when he had seen the adoption papers for Bruce and then, for himself. The tears that had fallen on the documents were coming at such a rate that the papers were already beyond the saturation point.

Mary leaned over and put her arms around her devastated husband. "He understands, Bruce. God only knows how he now understands."

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Words: 2772