Der Untergang

She was a regular mom. Well, maybe not a regular considering she ran her own business, but other than that she wasn’t any different than anyone other average mom. She loved her kids, loved her husband and did what she could for them. She had wonderful friends who made life worth living and was there for her when life got rough. One might go so far as calling her a success, something that wouldn’t be all that wrong. After all, there weren’t too many good mothers and career women in the world.

This day was no different than others, apart from being a Friday. Kids were off to school and she was working from home. Suddenly her phone rang. Caller ID said “Knucklehead”, one of her petnames for her younger brother, Carl.

“Hey, knucklehead. What’s up?”

“Hey, slut.” The two siblings were pretty much competing in who could find the most insulting and inventive nickname for the other. “I was thinking of coming over this weekend, unless you’re busy.”

“Not at all. Come on over. Been a while since I’ve seen your ugly face.” She smiled as she said it. Try to come back from that one.

“Yeah, just need to check if your ass has gotten any bigger since last time.” Asshole.

“You gonna be staying at our place? You know there’s always the extra room.” Carl hesitated for a bit before answering, like he was trying to find the words.

“Nah, I think I’m gonna check in.” If he was staying at the motel then he had plans on getting laid while he was there. At least that’s what she hoped for.

“And you call me a slut. Harry is taking the kids to his mother’s tomorrow, so we can definitely hang out then.”

“Sounds like a plan, cokehead. Talk to you later.” Before she could answer he’d hung up. She smiled and mumbled a few swearwords under her breath before going back to work.

They had agreed to meet at the local bar, not far from the motel where he was staying. She lived nearby as well, so it wasn’t a problem for her to have a few drinks as well. He had been worryingly brief in the phone calls, but she thought nothing of it. He was at uni and he was probably just stressed out. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d act weird.

She entered the door to the bar and looked around inside. She saw him sitting at a booth in the corner, a large beer in front of him. Although she never did want to admit it, he was a rather handsome man. He was the little “miracle” that was born 13 years after her. She’d been changing his diapers when she was at school and everybody had noticed how smart he was from an early age. He could read early, beat her with over a year, and sucked knowledge like a sponge. Charming and incredibly funny. She’d even told him to get into standup comedy once, even though she knew an academic education was the path he was destined for. Now he was a major in mathematics, although what exactly he did she had no clue about. He had always been the great young uncle with her kids, even though he had this evil almost manipulative way in which he made them do all kinds of weird stuff. Never anything bad, just weird.

As she walked to the bar to get a glass of wine she looked at him again. He hadn’t spotted her yet and was still looking at his beer. He looked serious and not his happy cheerful self. She noticed that something was wrong. Something big. As the barkeeper came with the wine she quickly gave him her credit card to set up a tab and grabbed her wine glass. Without even saying hello she sat down on the chair opposite of him and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Ok, rugrat. Spill it. What’s wrong?” A fake almost ironic smile came across his face as he exhaled briefly through his nose like it was sarcastic. He didn’t even look at her.

“Always to the point, sis. I think it would take less time if I told you what was right.” She looked at his face. There were several times she’d smacked him for being self loathing and complain over everything, but this time it was different. This time she knew a slap couldn’t fix it. She knew what this meant. She knew that this could only be cured by alcohol and a hobby shrink big sister. This wasn’t a time for lecturing. Like all mothers she knew when to yell at the kid and when to comfort him.

“Jesus Christ, hun.”

“If only.” He took a large couple of mouthfuls of beer, like he was preparing himself. “Where should we begin? Maybe we should talk about the good news from the doctor? Or how about my failing in uni? Let’s sprinkle it with a bit of disaster in love life as well.”

“What? You’ve been to the doctor? Why? When?” He emptied his glass. She immediately waved at the waitress to get him another one.

“A couple of weeks ago. I felt tired despite getting plenty of sleep so I ordered an appointment. Long story short, blood tests and all that crap, my lungs are reduced to half capacity. Only thing he could was to give me some pills and this.” He held up an inhaler from his pocket. “He also said if it progresses further in the same direction then I might have to be confided to a wheelchair, because my lungs will be too weak to distribute oxygen to my legs.” The waitress came with the glass and he immediately took several mouthfuls to give the information time to sink in to his sister.

“Why didn’t you call me? Does mom know?” He slowly shook his head.

“No, you’re the first to know. And I have no fucking clue why I didn’t call you. I didn’t want to worry you. You have too much to think of already. You don’t need my life to worry about.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” He nodded and took another couple of mouthfuls of his beer. “I’m supposed to worry about you. You’re my brother, and you know you worry about me, so don’t try to play that card.” He shrugged in response. He knew she had him pinned with that one. “So when you planning on telling mom?”

“Don’t think I should. You know her dad split because of me. I don’t know if the old hag could handle one more setback, especially not from me. I’m already a big enough failure as it is.” He was right about that one. Their mom had always wanted him to go into sports, but his lungs had always been bad, which pretty much excluded him from any sport. He got exhausted quite easily. In the end that had driven a large wedge between their parents, and in the end they had split. She had already moved out by then, but Carl moved in with their dad, distancing himself more and more from their mother. It was a huge blow to him when two years back she had to call him and tell him that the man he looked up to more than anyone else in life had died in a car crash. Their mother was more or less unaffected by the incident, something that had infuriated Carl.

His glass was half full now and he looked at her with a smirk. “But hey, maybe if I told her, she’d be so disappointed that it’d kill her. Sweet revenge.” She shook her head and sipped her wine.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” He nodded and the smirk faded.

“So they keep telling me.”

“Who? You know I got monopoly on that statement.” He smiled and took another few mouthfuls of his beer, almost emptying it.

“The people around me, Laura especially. She’s been angry with me for some time and in the end she broke up with me.”

“What? Why the hell did she do that? You two seemed happy together.”

“That’s what happens when the girl is only with you for the success.” He let the statement hang for a bit before he burst out laughing and emptying his glass, mocking himself. “I think we kinda drifted apart on got on each other’s nerves a lot. There was a lot of bickering in the end. I guess it was inevitable.” He waved for another beer. She had only taken a few sips of her wine, glass not even half empty.

“Well, she’s an idiot for leaving you. “ The beer came on the table and Carl almost took it right out of the waitress’ hand, moistening his throat. He drank like a cowboy that had walked for 10 days through the desert.

“Either an idiot, or most likely quite smart. You know how I am.” More mouthfuls of beer. She noticed he was drinking faster now. Normally she’d be angry about the amount of self loathing he was doing now, but she felt sorry for him. He really was depressed. He was pounding himself down to the level it seemed like he wanted to be, ignoring all his good sides and all the good things he had done in his life.

“Yes, you’re an asshole, but you’re a good asshole.” He waved his hand at her like he was disregarding her statement.

“I’m a low life piece of shit. I don’t know why, so don’t even ask. It’s just one of those things you know. Like when you’re hungry. You don’t know why you feel hungry, you just do. Besides, show me the girl who’d want me?” On the spot she could think of three of her friends who’d given him that dirty look, and one of them was married and would probably go through with it given the chance. “Besides, this” he waved his inhaler again “would most definitely kill the mood.” She couldn’t help but smile from the image of Carl fucking her friend Kayla from behind, one hand on her ass the other hand holding his inhaler. Even in the darkest of times he would be able to make a fitting joke.

“When will you ever get it into your thick skull that there are plenty of girls who want you, you just need to learn to see the fucking hints. Most girls won’t come over and give you a blowjob in public as a way of showing their interest.” He leaned forward and pointed a finger at her, obviously being more than a bit tipsy.

“You know, that’s not a bad suggestion. If girls had done that then there would be no arguing amongst guys who she was looking at, and there’d be no way to misinterpret the hint.” She shook her head again.

“Yeah, and you’d all think that all girls are slut.” He chucked down the rest of his beer and leaned back while waving his hand.

“Most guys think that anyway. A few more guys thinking that won’t matter.”

“Do you think that?” He waved for another beer.

“Nope. But that doesn’t seem to matter.”

“That does matter, to the good girls. The sluts don’t care, but to the kind of girl you want it actually does matter what you think of her before you talk to her.”

“Whatever. Where’s my fucking beer?” The waitress came over to them.

“Sir, I think you’ve had enough for tonight, but I can bring you glass of water or a soda.”

“Enough! I’ve hardly started! I think you should go get me a beer. Pretty please?” The waitress firmly shook her head.

“I’m sorry, sir. And please don’t start arguing or else I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He waved with his arm and looked at his sister.

“Have you heard such a preposterous accusation? They say I’m drunk.” He got up from his chair and had to steady himself on the table to avoid falling down. He turned towards the waitress again. “I’m not drunk, that’s a slam dunk!” He burst out laughing from his bad wordplay and shook his head when he realized how tragic the joke really was. He placed both hands on the waitress’ shoulders and kissed her forehead. Normally that would earn him a slap in the face, but the waitress was awake enough to see there was no harm or bad in this man’s heart, only sadness. “But I respect your decision and will leave the premises as fast as my wobbly legs can carry me.” He took a deep breath from his inhaler and staggered towards the door. His sister left her glass and walked to the barkeeper and sorted out the bill.

“I’m sorry, he’s just going through a rough patch, that’s all.” The barkeeper nodded and gave her the receipt.

“I know what you mean. Alice and I saw it the moment he walked in the door. I hope you can help him.” She sighed.

“So do I. So do I.”