And Then There Was One

Tommy stood upon the railroad bridge, hands tied behind his back, a
rope encircling his neck. Looking down into the swift water thirty feet
below, he let out a deep sigh. He guessed he had about five minutes.
Bending his neck awkwardly, he twisted his wrist to look at his watch.
1:18 a.m. Four minutes to go. He tried to lift his eyes away, but the
faint scar that was still visible on his palm held his gaze
rigidly.

"You've done it again," he told himself. "Let them down again. All you
do is let people down." Tommy swallowed hard, hoping that somehow,
someday, Jamie would forgive him.

He remembered the time in the foster home when Jamie had tied one of
the girls to a chair and tried to put a frog up her skirt. "All you had
to do was keep an eye on the door, man," Jamie had said later, after
the supervisor had finished belting the hell out of him. "That's all I
asked of you." Of course, the girl had already wriggled free and
shouted for help. Jamie never could tie a knot properly.

And there was the time when Dennis fell out of the treehouse and
sprained his ankle. Tommy had panicked and run for help. Dennis wasn't
hurt bad, but the three brothers were grounded for a month. Tommy knew
Jamie thought they could have got away with it if he had kept his mouth
shut. He was only trying to help, but that wasn't the point. They had
made a pact that they would not tell anyone about the treehouse and he
was the one who had broken it. He had let his brothers down.

And now he stood on a lonely railroad bridge, about to let them down
again. Tommy quivered in the cold night air as he checked his watch.
1:20 a.m. It was almost time.

He thought of another time. A time when he, Jamie and Dennis had first
met - before they were brothers. They had no family, no friends. They
needed each other. Jamie was the eldest by a couple of months, but
Dennis always seemed older - he was the stong one, leading the way.
Jamie was wild, impulsive - it was him who had stolen the penknife they
used to cut open their palms that night, when they became brothers.
That was the first time they had made a pact, and Tommy had let them
down even then. He was the only one who cried when he was cut. He
couldn't help it. It stung... it hurt. But it was supposed to be a
sacred moment. Tommy could tell from the way Jamie looked at him that
he had let them down.

But still, the bond was made. After that night, it didn't matter that
they had no one else. They had each other. Ten years went past, but
they hardly noticed. They were too busy having fun. Together the whole
time, sharing everything - girls, drink, the good times.

Tommy wanted the good times to last forever - but nothing ever did. A
year ago, it had all come to an end. Another crazy night ended with
Jamie's Escort skidding off the road and onto the bridge. Tommy had
felt helpless, useless as Jamie grabbed him and hurled them both out of
the door. He fractured his elbow on the way out - Jamie broke a leg.
But Dennis... Dennis was thrown thirty feet into icy water. On that
night, one year ago at 1:22 a.m., on the very spot he now stood, three
brothers had become two.

This time, Jamie had blamed himself. He had been driving - he had lost
control. The car was still in one piece, but he never drove it again.
For the best part of a year, they tried to carry on, but it was no
good. "We let Den down, man" Jamie had said. The brothers did
everything together - they should have died together.

A sudden beeping noise jarred Tommy from his painful memories. His
watch alarm had gone off. It was time. "I'm sorry, Den," he croaked.
"I'm sorry, Jamie." Then he slipped the cord from his wrist and
unhooked the rope from his neck. Jamie never could tie a knot
properly.

Tommy clenched his fist into a tight ball as he thought of his brother.
Right about now, Jamie would be slumped in the front seat of his car,
the air thick with fumes, staring sightlessly through the cracked
windscreen. Now Tommy had nobody. But at least there was nobody to let
down anymore.

Still trembling, Tommy walked away from the bridge, hoping to God that
when he opened his palm, that scar would have vanished forever.