My Brother Was Taken by the River

The taxi stopped downstairs.

I got out while holding onto the door for support. The cuts on the soles of my feet had already scabbed over, but every step still felt like walking on broken glass.

As I climbed the stairs, I heard laughter coming from inside the apartment.

Travis was there too. He sat in the center of the living room, holding up a gold trophy that gleamed harshly under the lights.

Dad stood beside him with one hand on his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

I stood at the doorway, reeking of sweat, dirt, and stale river water.

No one noticed me.

Dad raised a can of beer toward the room.

"Come on, everyone, another toast to our champion Travis Shaw! Gold medal in the city junior division two-hundred-meter freestyle!

"I'm telling you, this kid was born for swimming. I trained him for years, added two extra hours every day, no breaks even during holidays."

Travis flashed a wide smile, showing off his bright white teeth.

"It's all thanks to Coach Lancer. Without him, I wouldn't be where I am today."

Dad waved a hand dismissively, laughing even louder.

"No, no, this boy earned it himself. Unlike some kids who just can't amount to anything."

His gaze swept over and finally landed on me, his brows knitting together.

"You're back. Perfect timing, congratulate Travis."

I stayed where I was without moving.

Travis turned and spotted me. The smile on his face twisted from smug pride into mockery. He lifted the trophy and waved it at me.

"I heard you went for some special training at Roaring Spine. So, how'd it go? Want me to teach you a few moves?"

Several students nearby burst into laughter.

A girl in red covered her mouth as she giggled. "River survival training? Oh my god, that's hilarious."

Dad did not stop them.

I took a step forward.

"Dad, Ian..."

But he cut me off immediately.

"I already know about Ian. The police told me. Maybe the kid got scared I'd punish him for not learning to swim and decided to hide somewhere.

"Besides, my son's not that easy to wash away."

I watched his mouth moving, his voice buzzing in my ears like flies.

Then my eyes drifted to the cake sitting on the coffee table.

Written in red icing were the words:

Congratulations Travis Shaw, the Champion.

Underneath was a smaller line:

Coach Lancer's Proud Student.

Proud student.

I stared at those words as heat burned behind my eyes.

Ian had never even eaten a real birthday cake before.

Whenever his birthday came around, Dad always said birthdays for children were pointless, just a waste of time.

One year, Ian wanted a little sponge cake. I secretly bought him a one-dollar piece from a street shop. He only took two bites before saving the rest for me.

"Dylan, when I grow up, I'll buy you a huge cake."

He never got the chance.

"Dad."

I called out again.

Dad was still chatting with Travis and did not even bother turning around.

"Dad, Ian isn't hiding. The police said he might've been swept downstream. They said... they might never find him."

The living room fell silent.

A few of the parents exchanged awkward glances.

Dad slowly turned toward me, his eyes cold as ice.

"Why are you bringing this up today of all days? Travis finally wins a championship, and you come in here acting like someone died."

My lips trembled.

"Dad... he's your son."

"I KNOW HE'S MY SON!"

Dad suddenly roared so loudly that the beer cans on the coffee table rattled.

"When I fell into the river back then, nobody stood around crying for me either! Strong people learn how to endure. Understand?"

He turned and pointed toward Ian's bedroom door.

"Look at the two of you. One more useless than the other.

"Couldn't even learn how to swim properly, and now you've got the nerve to stand here crying. Travis wins championships. What can you two win? Tears?"

I followed the direction of his finger.

Ian's bedroom door was closed.

The drawing he had taped there was still hanging crookedly on the wood.

Two little stick figures holding hands, with a heart drawn between them.

My tears finally fell.