Chimera
“It was a question I’d heard a hundred times before. You could search the world, any country or culture, and it was a good bet you’d hear the same words or a version of them anyway. It was the siren call of little brothers far and wide. Lukas, for all that he was a great kid, was no different there. Rolling my eyes with all the long sufferance I could scrape up, I stuffed another pair of wadded-up jeans into the duffel bag resting on my bed. “Football camp, runt. Remember?”“No, you never said.” The corner of his mouth plunged down and a stubborn glint bloomed in his bicolored eyes. “You didn’t. I would remember.”I thought it was more a matter of his not wanting to remember that led to his sudden amnesia. It was easy enough to understand even wrestling against the self-centered nature that was a biological by-product of being a teenager. It wasn’t as if we could simply run out the front door, grab our bikes and our buddies, and race off down your typical neighborhood street.
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