The last thing Daniel said to his brother before leaving was "I promise."
He said it like he really meant it. He meant those words. Daniel said them the way people say things they mean when they are in the moment. Then they put it off until later when they have more money and time is right.
Daniel said this standing at the door of their moms apartment on Crane street. He had his bag on his shoulder and a bus ticket in his back pocket.
His brother Marcus was seventeen years old. Marcus was very skinny which worried their mom. He had their fathers eyes, which were dark and always watching. Marcus had a habit of leaning against doorframes like he was posing for a picture.
"I do not believe you are really leaving me alone " Marcus said.
"I got the job, Marc. You know about the job " Daniel said.
"I know about the job " Marcus replied.
Daniel adjusted the strap on his bag. The hallway smelled like it always did, like rice and damp carpet. Someones cigarette from two floors up. Daniel wanted to leave before he changed his mind.
"I will come back for you, Marc " Daniel said. "It will take six months or maybe a year. Let me get settled first save some money. Then I will come get you. I will get an apartment for us somewhere better than this."
Marcus looked at Daniel for a time. Then he nodded slowly like he was deciding whether to believe Daniel.
"Promise?" Marcus asked.
"Promise " Daniel said.
The first year was tough for Daniel. He worked at a warehouse on the edge of the city sleeping in a room with two men. He sent money home when he could. Daniel called his brother every Sunday.
They talked about nothing like football, music and a girl Marcus liked. Marcus loved those calls. Daniel enjoyed hearing his brothers voice too even if it was just on the phone.
Then the calls got shorter and then less often.
Daniel told himself it was because he was stressed and tired. The work was hard. He needed to focus.
He told himself that Marcus was fine. Seventeen, eighteen he was old enough. Crane street was a place but people survived. Marcus had their mom with him so it was not like Daniel was leaving him alone.
Daniel just needed time.
The first year. The second year came. Daniel finally had an apartment, a used car and a quiet life that felt worth keeping. Daniel thought about his brother, Marc. It got easier to push those thoughts aside. Daniel was convinced he needed more time and was not ready yet.
Daniels phone rang on a Tuesday morning.
It was his mom and her voice sounded different like something was broken inside her.
Marcus had been in the place she said. That was how she said it. "The wrong place."
He was at a corner two streets from home. A fight started that had nothing to do with him. A decision was made in three seconds. It could not be undone.
Daniel sat on the edge of his bed for a time after the call.
He thought about the bus ticket, the doorframes and the hallway smell of rice and damp carpet. He thought about his brother leaning there with their fathers eyes deciding whether to believe him.
He thought about the word he said to his brother and how easy it was to say.
Daniel went home for the funeral.
Crane street looked the same. Their mom had aged a lot in a year. She held Daniels hand during the service. Did not say anything about the promise, which was almost worse.
At the graveside someone said Marcus had been doing great lately that he was talking about leaving and had plans.
Daniel looked at his brothers coffin. Understood something he had not let himself understand before.
Marcus had been waiting. All that time in the apartment on that street he was always waiting. He had his quiet patience and he had believed in the promise made at the doorway by a brother who meant it once and forgot later.
Daniel had not forgotten Marcus.
He just chose comfort over doing what was hard month after month until the months ran out.
There is a version of this story where Daniel keeps his promise. Where he goes back packs Marcus stuff. Builds something with him in the city.
Daniel lives that version sometimes on evenings when the apartment feels too quiet and the silence is heavy.
The truth is at a graveside, on Crane street with a man standing in a good coat he bought with money he was saving for the "right time" but finally understanding that the right time was the first time he said the word. "Promise".
He said it like it did not cost anything. He finally realized what it was worth.
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