No More: Cutting Ties With My Golden-Boy Brother

03

I don't know how my parents treated me before I was old enough to remember. But by the time my memories start, I already had a little brother, and in every one of those memories, my mother and father had eyes only for him. I was nothing more than an appendage to Cary.

There was never a share for me when new clothes were bought. I was older than Cary, yet I wore his castoffs, so nothing I owned ever fit. Most of it was too small. Not one pair of my shoes fit either. When I outgrew Cary's, I took whatever my cousins had left behind.

Simply put, no money was ever spent on clothes or shoes for me.

Cary and I are two years apart, and we started elementary school together. I only got to go because of him. When I reached school age, my mother wouldn't let me enroll. Watching the other kids my age walk off with their backpacks, I cried and begged her to let me go too.

She threw a big feed basket at me and screamed until her voice cracked, "The day you can carry a full basket of grass on your back, then you can start thinking about school."

She probably said it without meaning anything by it, but I took it to heart. Every day I hauled that basket out to cut grass, and every time I brought back more than the last.

While I cut pig grass, Cary sat in the shade eating crackers and jeered that I was a big idiot. "Darlene, you really are a big idiot. Mom said even if you can carry a whole basket of grass, she still won't let you go to school."

I was stubborn. I kept cutting just as much grass anyway.

My dream of going to school didn't come true until Cary was old enough to start himself.

I was the oldest kid in my class. The condition for my going to school at all was that I look after Cary there. Even so, I treasured the chance.

From the day I started, my grades were always near the top. I did so well that even my parents couldn't stop me from going further.

I drew serious attention from the district, the county, even the city, and in the end I earned a scholarship placement at the vocational trade school in the city, the kind of opportunity that meant a stable, secure job the moment I graduated.

I thought it was the beginning of my escape from the grip of my family.

After I graduated, I went to work at the grain depot. It was a fairly steady job, and having it gave my parents plenty to brag about.

But it was also the beginning of them wringing me dry.

My mother knew I was soft-hearted, obedient since childhood. Once I started working and she learned my payday, she'd show up every payday to take my wages.

Today the house needed fertilizer, tomorrow it was pig feed. Even Cary's living expenses came out of my pocket.

Cary came home before he even finished middle school and lived off everyone, idle day after day, and still envied me for having a good job.

Before long, Cary reached the age to marry. But with the reputation he had across the whole area, no one was willing to give him their daughter.

So my parents fell back on upgrading the hardware. They emptied their savings and built a big five-room brick house.

They took every cent of my wages, calling it my repayment for the kindness of raising me.

Then they went around begging people to find Cary a match, and after countless trials and setbacks they finally found Sylvia McClain.

My parents were afraid a long delay would bring trouble, so they wanted the two married as soon as possible. But Sylvia's family were no fools. They kept stalling the wedding, and my parents pulled out every trick to curry favor with them.

I'd worked for three years, and most of that money had been taken by my mother. This past year I stopped giving them anything, and it left a fire smoldering in their chests.

And that fire had been smoldering all the way to Cary's wedding.