The Turning Point
He stood there, leaning against the wall, one knee braced against it. I watched his hands move softly over the guitar strings, producing haunting melodies that touch the heart and leave an impression. His profile was highlighted by the full moon, his aquiline nose and jaw set at a proud angle. Once again my mind asked the question it had been asking me for days…” how long this time?”
The guitarist was my brother. A drifter by nature, Kevin, like a nomad, would take off for parts unknown whenever the urge took him. He was a person with no roots and for who the whole world was home. It was the call of the north wind, he said. “ I go whichever direction it blows me.” I had come to hate the north wind. This time, however, something other than the north wind had blown him back to our hometown of Keaton after a gap of four years.
As I stood there watching him, scenes from the past filtered through my mind. Our father had been a general in the army and we were constantly being transferred from one base to another. I dreaded the news of transfers as each new transfer meant more misery for me. What would always be an experience for my parents and brother was a devastating happening for me. I craved stability, while they thrived on our constant moves. However, it was always Kevin who would cheer me up and make me see the bright side of the move. He was that kind of person, always bringing light and joy into people’s lives, either with his music or his laughter. He was always helping people and animals. Wherever we went Kevin would bring back home strays that often wound up staying with us for quite some time. Consequently our home, wherever it was, was quite a menagerie of sorts. I remember once when while on his way to the bank to deposit some cash Dad had given him, he happened across an old beggar woman and her skinny little cat. He took one look at her and soon was chatting away to her as of she was an old friend. At the end, he gave her all the money and took her cat home. Dad was furious but he soon gave up in despair. That did not stop the fights however. Till the day my parents died in a car accident, weeks after Dad retired to Keaton, Kevin and Dad had a hard time seeing eye to eye over most issues. Sometimes I used to think they purposely took opposing sides over everything. The day after the funeral Kevin left, leaving a note behind asking me to understand his need to move. I understood. Mom and Dad had been the binding forces that had kept Kevin close to home all these years. With them gone and with me being comfortably independent thanks to my job as a financial consultant in a nearby Chicago firm, it would have been hard for him to stay. His need to move around and see the world and its different people was too strong.
