{"id":19344,"date":"2024-04-06T07:01:00","date_gmt":"2024-04-06T11:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/?p=19344"},"modified":"2024-04-06T07:06:42","modified_gmt":"2024-04-06T11:06:42","slug":"family-unicorns","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/flash-nonfiction\/family-unicorns\/","title":{"rendered":"Family & Unicorns"},"content":{"rendered":"

Your entire life was pretending, making everyone believe that everything was fine.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0– Nicole Tallman, \u201cThe Last Moments Leading Up to Your Death\u201d<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

 <\/p>\n

Fernando\u2019s brother, Richie, had been out of jail for a few months. He had to join some recovery program or something, a place where someone with a shitton of their own baggage and maybe a BA in psychology will tell a guy like Richie, \u201cI think you should confront your brother. You\u2019ll never move past what he did to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I come to see Fernando and his husband, Gregg, every time I make it out to Chicago. They always know the best spots, like this swanky place at Restoration Hardware on Dearborn. He\u2019s on his third cocktail and I am trying to get the details, but we sat right next to this fountain (under an enormous chandelier\u2026 very Chicago). I only hear gun, \u201cDid you say he brought a gun?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, the motherfucker!\u201d a couple of patrons look our way but Fernando stares them down. \u201cMy brother came out here to murder me, J.D.!\u201d Gregg pops an olive in his mouth and nods at me.<\/p>\n

Nineteen years in jail (for putting a gun to a man\u2019s head), a lifetime of brotherly trips to California and back home to New York. And one night, surrounded by everyone who only knows his side of the story, the way he tells it, who maybe see themselves, see all the mothers and fathers and Fernandos of their own stories, the people who really deserve the blame. I heard these groups tell you that you have to own your shit, but I\u2019ve never met a person with a chip who didn\u2019t have a big damn list of names they\u2019d rather blame it all on.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe called me a sociopath!\u201d he tries to rise above it, but anyone can see it still stings all these months later, \u201cI told that sonofabitch I bet he couldn\u2019t define it.\u201d<\/p>\n

When I used to talk to my brother, Sam, he\u2019d usually call drunk, \u201cHey, little brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you staying?\u201d It was usually on the street, but sometimes an old friend would offer his couch and a shower.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I\u2019m back at the hospital cause of my diabetes,\u201d hospitals in Long Beach can\u2019t turn away the homeless, \u201cHey, hey\u2026\u201d he\u2019s not talking to me, some poor nurse, \u201cHey, I asked for another ice cream because I don\u2019t like chocolate. Can you get that for me?\u201d Decades on the street and he still treats doctors and nurses and just about everyone like they\u2019re \u201cthe help\u201d (and we grew up poorer than anyone with actual jobs like \u201cthe help\u201d).<\/p>\n

I can\u2019t help myself, \u201cHow did they let you stay there drunk?\u201d<\/p>\n

Unconvincing, \u201cBrother, I\u2019m not drunk.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay. What\u2019s up? I\u2019ve got to get to bed soon,\u201d anything to give these calls a time limit.<\/p>\n

Impersonating me, extra lisp, \u201cOh, excuse me! I didn\u2019t mean to bother you, little brother. I didn\u2019t realize I was bothering you and your busy life, little brother. You\u2019re a stuck-up little faggot, you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n

When he went back to jail (for fighting with a cop), he wrote me these long letters apologizing for things he said. Half of it I couldn\u2019t remember, the other half was probably for one of our other brothers\u2014but he had my address. Who knows why I sent him the care packages. I told my twin brother, Joseph, \u201cIt\u2019s an investment. Every package is a phone call I don\u2019t have to pick up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Fernando tells me about therapy. We\u2019re back at their place overlooking the lake. It\u2019s a gorgeous night, lights on the water, little ripples. Gregg brings us both a glass of whiskey. \u201cDo you know, J.D., Richie and Lenny both asked me why I left them behind?\u201d<\/p>\n

First-generation Columbians, meaning whomever you came over with you were stuck with. Which is why his mom didn\u2019t leave the husband who beat her, still kept in contact with the uncle who molested her oldest son. People will use the word family to tie you down, to tie you to them. Forever if they can. So, Fernando left as soon as he turned 18 and never looked back.<\/p>\n

He takes two big gulps, \u201cWhat the fuck was I supposed to do?\u201d He\u2019s gonna be 56 in a couple of months, but a couple of texts from his bored brothers and he\u2019s back there. The lake looks endless.<\/p>\n

My sister spent most of my life apologizing for leaving me and Joseph behind. I never really understood the need for her to apologize. Except I\u2019d sometimes hear my older brothers griping, \u201cYvonne thinks she\u2019s too damn good! She\u2019s a stuck-up little bitch!\u201d Like them, the catchphrases and vocabulary remained stunted. Well, I always wanted to be like my sister.<\/p>\n

I ask Fernando what happened, if they are talking at all. He smiles, \u201cOh, you\u2019ll love this\u201d and Gregg cozies up on the couch, he\u2019s smiling, too, \u201cThat little prick calls me on Christmas and is like \u2018Hey, I was going through some stuff\u2019 or some shit. Can. You. Believe. It?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGirl, it\u2019s always like that,\u201d I think of Sam\u2019s jail letters, or how he came crying when he busted the living room window and said he was going to kill me when I wouldn\u2019t open the door because he was drunk. \u201cSo, what did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI said he could fuck off,\u201d Gregg gives a little clap for his husband and Fernando smiles.<\/p>\n

I was a fat, awkward, lonely kid, and in third grade, I had this teacher who was kind to me for seemingly no reason. She knew I liked animals, and she\u2019d give me all of these old animal magazines and let me cut out the giraffes and zebras instead of sitting by myself on the playground. I came home one day and told my mom, \u201cMrs. Wallace has this giant house full of animals, and I got to see them all.\u201d<\/p>\n

And my mom said, \u201cDid she have rhinos and unicorns?\u201d because my mom lived a life you had to make up to survive.<\/p>\n

And I said, \u201cYes! Of course, she had unicorns\u201d because, even then, I was learning my own survival skills.<\/p>\n

When I hug them goodbye, Fernando says, \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I didn\u2019t mean to dump all of my family baggage on you on your vacation!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI enjoyed every dramatic detail,\u201d Gregg and Fernando laugh as I kiss them, give another hug.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I want you to know I am over it. They can all go fuck themselves!\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes, of course, there are unicorns, my friend.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

First-generation Columbians, meaning whomever you came over with you were stuck with. Which is why his mom didn\u2019t leave the husband who beat her, still kept in contact with the uncle who molested her oldest son. People will use the word family to tie you down, to tie you to them. Forever if they can. So, Fernando left as soon as he turned 18 and never looked back.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":19916,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3529],"tags":[212,163,1111,3378,110,3379,3380],"class_list":["post-19344","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-flash-nonfiction","tag-alcoholism","tag-brothers","tag-chicago","tag-family-trauma","tag-guns","tag-jail","tag-lies","writer-j-d-isip"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19344","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=19344"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19344\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19919,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19344\/revisions\/19919"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/19916"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=19344"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=19344"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=19344"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}