Third in Five

THIRD IN FIVE

I remember that night like snatches from an old favorite song. You know the feeling? Sometimes if you sit real quiet, you could swear that the music is still playing, and you could point your finger at the singer who is standing right there over on your left. If I looked to my left right now, I swear I can still see the stars just starting to come out. The winter night’s air blew against my face and chilled my nose. I had gone early, as I always did for anything important. I hated being late. I would rather get there early and just sit around, doing nothing, and not be late. Especially on that night, especially for that occasion. You see, it was my turn to take on the rite of passage. I was finally old enough. I had come into my own, as my father was so fond of saying. But getting there early did have its disadvantages. All I could do was wait until it got darker before I could make my move. That was all right. I didn’t mind.

Nobody ever marked this house for a target. The owner of the house was known to be a crazy old man who thought more with his shotgun than with his brain. His guard dogs were also legendary. Nobody was stupid enough to even think about coming near here on a regular night. But this was different. This was ‘initiation’. Maybe that’s why they picked this house in the first place, because it was a true test of courage.

I was the third in a family of five sons, smack in the middle. You know what they said about middle children? We were peacemakers. We never forged new frontiers like the first-borns, nor did we strive for attention like the babies of the family. Instead, we kept it together. That’s how I liked to think of myself. When my parents argued, I was right there. When my brothers fought, I was always the voice of reason.

Often, it was difficult to be the peacemaker. We grew up in a tough neighborhood. A gang of roughnecks claimed the territory just down the way from where we lived, and every now and then, the kids would come around, strutting their stuff, and pretend like they were staking out their territory, like they were real tough or something. My oldest brother, Rocco, —he was the one with the temper—would show them back to their proper place, so to speak; except it wouldn’t be as nice as I was telling you now, of course. But when I was there, I would always say to him, “Hey Rock, go easy on ‘em, okay? They’s just kids.”

Then my brother would say something like, “Yeah, sure.”

Then he would plod away like a dinosaur, but real cool. My brother was a big frigging hulk, you know the type? He always had this frown on his eyebrows, but he never knew he had it. He always looked so serious, like there were a million things on his mind. He pretended like he was so much more experienced and so much wiser than me, but really, I was almost as old as he was. I didn’t know exactly why I always tried to keep him from killing those kids. I just didn’t want no blood spilt, I guess. It’d be bad between the families.

One time, after one of those tussles like I was telling you, I saw a look in my brother’s eye like I’d never seen before. Even though he let the kid go, I knew he’d be up to something. That same night, I followed him without him knowing, down to the spot where the other gang usually hung out. I saw him go in, then come back out after a few minutes. No shouting, no noise, no nothing. Well, maybe there was nobody home. I didn’t know if I was suppose to go in and help him or what. I did know that if some screaming started I’d go in, even though that would be really dangerous. But like I said, it’s hard to be the peacemaker sometimes.

Now when the grown-ups fight, that’s a different story. I’ve seen my father fight. He was good. When we got old enough, my father had taught all of us to fight. He said that it was important to know how. He said that sometimes, problems couldn’t be worked out just by talking. Sometimes it took a good fight. He even fought with my mom. Well, nobody ever got hurt or anything, but they did push each other around some. I used to be scared when they did that, when I was younger. Now that I’m older, my brothers and I, we just think it’s a little stupid, but kind of funny too.