So Long & Goodnight - One Shot
So Long & Goodnight - One Shot
"Come on Gerard, let's take 'im into the forest."
The younger of the two nudged the tearing elder into the dreary woods. They were saying goodbye to a cherished family friend, Mr. Kibble the dog. Their parents wanted them to keep it at the vet's office, where it was euthanized, but they strongly protested. In staying true to their word, the brothers had started to drag the almost mummified hound into the damp cluster of trees.
"Gerard, come on," Mikey edged.
"But I just. I just don't want to see him go, Mikey," Gerard stumbled out through sniffling gasps.
Mikey embraced his brother in a comforting hug and began to trudge onward, carrying the clothed corpse. Tears slowly escaped the younger's eyes as they laid the bundle into the pre-dug hole near a tree that they had scraped "So Long + Goodnight" onto. It was their place of tranquility, and they wanted their faithful companion to, literally, rest in peace.
"Let's go, Mikey," Gerard breathed out between tear spells.
"Hold on," Mikey replied to the non-existent question, while he covered the grave and placed a lily on it.
"He liked these, remember?"
***
It's been 12 years since that tragic day, and the Way brothers have head off into their own occupations. Gerard is now 25, fresh out of art school. He already has galleries opened up for him, displaying his strikingly unique and beautiful artwork on the plastered walls. Mikey, on the other hand, is now 22, didn't think much of college, and went on to work in a Barnes & Noble store. He makes enough to fulfill his daily needs and then some (mostly going out to clubs or coffee shops), so he's very content at where his life has led him.
Until the day they both received a stressed phone call from their mother.
They both rushed frantically to get back to New Jersey, not minding that it was nearly half past two in the morning. Gerard had arrived from New York to New Jersey in about four hours. Mikey appeared from almost no where; he hadn't been in touch. The reunited family huddled in the small 70's style kitchen, drinking coffee as well as a bit of wine.
"So...she's gone?"
Mikey had barely said a word since Mr. Kibble died, so his speech cut sharp through the muffled sobs.
"Yes, dear," his mother choked. Gerard sat at the table, facing away from everyone to the corner of the room. He occasionally sipped coffee from his black mug, but by the time he was half-way through with it, it was cold and he didn't want to drink it anymore. Whenever someone died within the family, Gerard always took it the hardest. Whether it be the pet dog or, in this case, his grandmother, he always seemed to think he was partly responsible. In this particular situation, however, he wouldn't even shed a tear. He just sat in a wooden kitchen chair and studied the yellow wallpaper.
His grandmother had been his biggest role model. When he was little, his grandmother was always the one to give him paper to color on, and, eventually, coloring books and sketch pads. She always encouraged him to be creative and let his imagination flow onto the page. Of course, she did the same for Mikey, but he didn't get as much pleasure out of art as he did music. Because of this, she encouraged music with Mikey and art with Gerard. Sometimes she would switch it discretely to see if they would notice: they did.
"Helena, Helena!" Gerard would always call when he stopped by his grandmother's house.
"No, sweetie, it's Elena!" she'd reply.
All of these memories seemed to well up in Gerard's mind, for he suddenly stood up and ran to the basement, which was his childhood room, and locked the door behind him.
"I'll check on him," Mikey whispered, leaving the table without waiting for a response. He knocked on the door with a repeated pattern. The lock opened, but the door remained shut. He turned the handle and walked down the carpeted steps, mindful to close the door again. He was impressed that Gerard's room had not changed at all since he had left for college. Mikey wondered if his room was preserved as well. He stopped at the last step and watched Gerard's breath release shakily from his lungs. Small bursts of noise could be heard through the Star Wars-clad pillow. He sat on the edge of the messy, comic-filled bed.
"Did you just whip out all your comics?"
"Don't sit on the Batman issue, that's my favorite."
"Ah, so you're alive."
Gerard flipped over to lie on his back instead of his stomach. He glanced at Mikey, but proceeded to stare at the ceiling. He let out a long exasperated sigh and closed his eyes.
"I wish this hadn't happened."
"No one wanted it to happen, G... This kind of stuff just...happens."
"Shit happens."
"Exactly. Life isn't fair, I'm sure you've learned that in art school and what not."
"Clown college."
"..What?"
"It wasn't so much art school as it was clown college. Everything I 'learned' there, I already knew. The only difference is that I now have a pretty paper to show employers that I know what the fuck I'm doing. Helena taught me everything I know."
"It's Elena-"
"I know!" he shouted, sitting up. He sighed again and rubbed his eyes. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Mikey nudged his brother's arm.
"Hey, guess what we can do," a smile emerged on his face,
"What?" Gerard vaguely suspicious.
Mikey pulled his brother up from the bed and pulled out an old ladder from the closet.
"Mikes, what are you-"
"Just trust me."
He opened the ladder and inspected it's security, then climbed up it to the small basement window. Once he climbed out, he reached out for Gerard's hand. Gerard took it wearily, climbing up the ladder after his brother.
"Follow the signs, follow the signs..." Mikey muttered to himself.
"This way!"
Gerard followed the younger to a patch of decaying trees and plants near the edge of the forest.
"Mikey? Mikey, what are we doing here?"
Mikey took an xacto knife from his pocket and handed it to Gerard.
"You know how to use these right?" he dusted off a section on a tree, revealing crude writing etched into it.
"Make it worthy of Grandma."
A smile grew on Gerard's face, completely erasing his sadness for just a moment as he carved lines, curls, and better lettering into the tree trunk. After he finished, he stood looking at it for a long time. So long, in fact, that he sat down in the dead grass and stared at it for what seemed like hours. Nightfall approached, and Mikey sensed that his brother was nowhere near done spending time by the tree.
"I'm gonna go inside, okay? Just come in when you're ready," he stood up to leave.
"Wait."
Mikey halted. Gerard looked up at him.
"Thanks," he smiled, then grasped Mikey's hand.
"So long and goodnight," he added.
"So long and goodnight."
The younger of the two nudged the tearing elder into the dreary woods. They were saying goodbye to a cherished family friend, Mr. Kibble the dog. Their parents wanted them to keep it at the vet's office, where it was euthanized, but they strongly protested. In staying true to their word, the brothers had started to drag the almost mummified hound into the damp cluster of trees.
"Gerard, come on," Mikey edged.
"But I just. I just don't want to see him go, Mikey," Gerard stumbled out through sniffling gasps.
Mikey embraced his brother in a comforting hug and began to trudge onward, carrying the clothed corpse. Tears slowly escaped the younger's eyes as they laid the bundle into the pre-dug hole near a tree that they had scraped "So Long + Goodnight" onto. It was their place of tranquility, and they wanted their faithful companion to, literally, rest in peace.
"Let's go, Mikey," Gerard breathed out between tear spells.
"Hold on," Mikey replied to the non-existent question, while he covered the grave and placed a lily on it.
"He liked these, remember?"
***
It's been 12 years since that tragic day, and the Way brothers have head off into their own occupations. Gerard is now 25, fresh out of art school. He already has galleries opened up for him, displaying his strikingly unique and beautiful artwork on the plastered walls. Mikey, on the other hand, is now 22, didn't think much of college, and went on to work in a Barnes & Noble store. He makes enough to fulfill his daily needs and then some (mostly going out to clubs or coffee shops), so he's very content at where his life has led him.
Until the day they both received a stressed phone call from their mother.
They both rushed frantically to get back to New Jersey, not minding that it was nearly half past two in the morning. Gerard had arrived from New York to New Jersey in about four hours. Mikey appeared from almost no where; he hadn't been in touch. The reunited family huddled in the small 70's style kitchen, drinking coffee as well as a bit of wine.
"So...she's gone?"
Mikey had barely said a word since Mr. Kibble died, so his speech cut sharp through the muffled sobs.
"Yes, dear," his mother choked. Gerard sat at the table, facing away from everyone to the corner of the room. He occasionally sipped coffee from his black mug, but by the time he was half-way through with it, it was cold and he didn't want to drink it anymore. Whenever someone died within the family, Gerard always took it the hardest. Whether it be the pet dog or, in this case, his grandmother, he always seemed to think he was partly responsible. In this particular situation, however, he wouldn't even shed a tear. He just sat in a wooden kitchen chair and studied the yellow wallpaper.
His grandmother had been his biggest role model. When he was little, his grandmother was always the one to give him paper to color on, and, eventually, coloring books and sketch pads. She always encouraged him to be creative and let his imagination flow onto the page. Of course, she did the same for Mikey, but he didn't get as much pleasure out of art as he did music. Because of this, she encouraged music with Mikey and art with Gerard. Sometimes she would switch it discretely to see if they would notice: they did.
"Helena, Helena!" Gerard would always call when he stopped by his grandmother's house.
"No, sweetie, it's Elena!" she'd reply.
All of these memories seemed to well up in Gerard's mind, for he suddenly stood up and ran to the basement, which was his childhood room, and locked the door behind him.
"I'll check on him," Mikey whispered, leaving the table without waiting for a response. He knocked on the door with a repeated pattern. The lock opened, but the door remained shut. He turned the handle and walked down the carpeted steps, mindful to close the door again. He was impressed that Gerard's room had not changed at all since he had left for college. Mikey wondered if his room was preserved as well. He stopped at the last step and watched Gerard's breath release shakily from his lungs. Small bursts of noise could be heard through the Star Wars-clad pillow. He sat on the edge of the messy, comic-filled bed.
"Did you just whip out all your comics?"
"Don't sit on the Batman issue, that's my favorite."
"Ah, so you're alive."
Gerard flipped over to lie on his back instead of his stomach. He glanced at Mikey, but proceeded to stare at the ceiling. He let out a long exasperated sigh and closed his eyes.
"I wish this hadn't happened."
"No one wanted it to happen, G... This kind of stuff just...happens."
"Shit happens."
"Exactly. Life isn't fair, I'm sure you've learned that in art school and what not."
"Clown college."
"..What?"
"It wasn't so much art school as it was clown college. Everything I 'learned' there, I already knew. The only difference is that I now have a pretty paper to show employers that I know what the fuck I'm doing. Helena taught me everything I know."
"It's Elena-"
"I know!" he shouted, sitting up. He sighed again and rubbed his eyes. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Mikey nudged his brother's arm.
"Hey, guess what we can do," a smile emerged on his face,
"What?" Gerard vaguely suspicious.
Mikey pulled his brother up from the bed and pulled out an old ladder from the closet.
"Mikes, what are you-"
"Just trust me."
He opened the ladder and inspected it's security, then climbed up it to the small basement window. Once he climbed out, he reached out for Gerard's hand. Gerard took it wearily, climbing up the ladder after his brother.
"Follow the signs, follow the signs..." Mikey muttered to himself.
"This way!"
Gerard followed the younger to a patch of decaying trees and plants near the edge of the forest.
"Mikey? Mikey, what are we doing here?"
Mikey took an xacto knife from his pocket and handed it to Gerard.
"You know how to use these right?" he dusted off a section on a tree, revealing crude writing etched into it.
"Make it worthy of Grandma."
A smile grew on Gerard's face, completely erasing his sadness for just a moment as he carved lines, curls, and better lettering into the tree trunk. After he finished, he stood looking at it for a long time. So long, in fact, that he sat down in the dead grass and stared at it for what seemed like hours. Nightfall approached, and Mikey sensed that his brother was nowhere near done spending time by the tree.
"I'm gonna go inside, okay? Just come in when you're ready," he stood up to leave.
"Wait."
Mikey halted. Gerard looked up at him.
"Thanks," he smiled, then grasped Mikey's hand.
"So long and goodnight," he added.
"So long and goodnight."
