Bond

I walked in, only to find him half awake and half asleep again. He was coughing a lot too and in a soft, struggling voice asked me to walk towards him.
“Open the window,” he said. After opening the window, I saw how nice it was outside. The flowers were in full bloom, you could hear the music from the chirping of the birds, the sound of the water running at the pond, and I spotted a butterfly dancing in the sunlight. When I was about to leave, grandfather told me to sit down and listen to a story.

It was a long time ago, but I still remember the smell of the Italian air in Sicily. I remember the mansion I lived in, the place I was born and the open field in the back yard. I would run outside and I was fast for a young boy. I remember mama sitting in the garden with the other ladies and papa always making money and wearing his clean, shiny, black suit. But it was also lonely, even if our property was big, there were no other kids around and I was too young for school. Mama and papa always had their own agendas and when it rained, I stayed in my room, playing with my wooden toy cars and trains. Then one day he appeared at my window.
Even though we lived in the same building, we only saw each other at dinner. We never exchanged words and I kept forgetting his name because even though he was four years older, he too had his own agenda.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Playing,” I answered.
“Looks boring. Do you want to play outside?” I nodded. He told me to walk closer to him and he picked me up.
“I like the open field, right over the hill.” I told him. He nodded and gave me a piggyback ride there. When we got to the open filled we started to run everywhere and he taught me how to run up the hill and roll down it. I never tried it before, it was a whole new experience to me, but I enjoyed it. Then he started to head for the woods.
“Mama says not to play in the woods.” I told him.
“Why?” he asked.
“She says it's dangerous.” He took one step in and looked back at me. I stood and watched him; to see if anything would happen. He started to take more steps and then walked in. I was both scared and excited, but I didn't move. He then came back running out, but with a big smile on his face.
“What is it?” I asked. But with his huge smile on, he shook his head.
“I won't tell you until next week,” he said. I ask why and then I remembered that the next week was my fifth birthday. Before leaving the field, I ask him his name. He seemed both happy and disappointed that I ask that question, but he answered.
“Angelo,”
After that first encounter, Angelo would appear at my window and take me to the field. Sometimes he took me to mama's garden, the secret lake that no one knew about, and his secret hiding places. On my fifth birthday he didn't come to my window because mama and papa planned a party for me and we ate my birthday cake at noon. Angelo was there too. When the small party was over and papa went back to work and mama continued talking with the ladies, Angelo took me by the hand and led me back to the open field.
“Remember my promised?” he asked. I nodded. I followed him into the woods and I wanted to show him that I was a big boy and that I wouldn't be scared. After following him on an unknown path, we made it to another open field, but this field was filled with flowers and butterflies.
“Buon compleanno mio fratello,” he said. It was beautiful watching the butterflies fly everywhere, the colorful flowers, and the smell of the summer in that field. We both started to chase all the butterflies, but instead of leaving, it seemed as if the butterflies were actually dancing. I told Angelo that this was the best gift ever for my birthday. Then Angelo started to cry.
That following fall, my parents enrolled me at a private school in town. I was at school from morning to afternoon and I quickly started to miss those times with Angelo. But Angelo started to take me out shortly after I would arrive home. I would often take off my tie and jacket and follow Angelo to one of our own secret places. One day when we went to the butterfly field, I noticed that there weren't any butterflies and I started to get cold.
“Where are they?” I asked.
“It's fall. They don't like the cold weather.” Angelo said.
“Where do they go?”
“Heaven. The place has the perfect weather for butterflies.”
“They're dead?”
“No, they'll come back. In the spring they'll come back.”
“But when you go to heaven, you can't come back. You're gone forever.”
“Not butterflies. They’re magical. They have magical powers so they can make people on earth happy.”
“What kind of magical power?”
“Love.” After talking with him, he said it was time to return home. But I was confused about the butterflies and Angelo knew it. He told me that I would understand when I was older.
As the years passed, I started to learn more about Angelo. Angelo was the first-born in my family and therefore was favored by papa. Angelo never went to school; he was tutored by the best. He even got lessons in archery, fencing, horseback riding, and Latin. When our parents held those fancy parties for their friends, Angelo always went. Mama would say I was too little to join in the party and said when I'm older I'll be able to join the fancy parties with Angelo. One time I snuck down stairs and saw Angelo in a good looking suit, his short brown hair was combed, and he acted and talked like an adult. He was also able to dance with the women at the party, but he never once put on a smile in front of them.
I envy Angelo and looked up to him. I was never jealous or angry with him because I knew the real him. The part of him that no one else ever saw, the kid deep down in that body, the Angelo that took me a way from my little silly world.
Years went by quickly, but Angelo and I never drifted from each other. Even though he still had his tutors and started watching what papa did so he could take on the family business, he was still the same and always found me and took me to our secret places. We used to run around, but then we got more interested in pretend games and my favorite, war games. Angelo once told me, that he wasn't ready to grow up. He hated wearing suits and ties, just like I did. Angelo also taught me how to throw and catch and even how to play soccer. At school, I was able to show off in front of the other boys and even though I made friends, I always thought of Angelo as my best friend. Angelo and I loved each other because besides being best friends, we were also brothers. Even though we got older, we never left each other. We had a strong brotherly bond.

Papa and mama heard the news about the epidemic on the main land of Italy. I was only nine years old, but I remembered the panics they were having at the ports and what my parents read in the newspaper. It seemed as if the plague was far away from Sicily, but people were still worried. Mama started to always stay inside and stopped seeing the ladies. Papa started to come home earlier from work and they told Angelo and I not to go out. Papa even hired tutors for me, but he said only for a short time. Then one sunny day when the snow was still outside, Angelo and I snuck out. Out in the field we build a snowman and had a snowball fight until the moon came out. That was when Angelo started to cough.
The coughing went away for a couple of days, but news said that the plague had arrived in Sicily and that many were already dead all over the place. Then one day, Angelo started to cough again and during one of his lessons, he collapsed. The family doctor said that it was only a cold and that Angelo should stay in bed. After my lessons I would visit Angelo and help him with the work he missed. Angelo said that when he got better, he would take me out again and we would have another everlasting snowball fight and then when spring comes, we would see those millions of butterflies. I took his hand and gave him a big smile. But he got worse and mama wouldn't let me in his room anymore, but I desperately wanted to see him. So I got my jacket and snuck outside and I walked all the way around the house to Angelo's room and knocked on his window. He slowly got out of bed and opened his window, showing me his big smile.
“What ever you’re doing, it seems boring,” I told him.
We lost many family members from young to old. Papa decided to make the funeral after the plague and burry the relatives we had lost on the same day. We all lined up to watch the open caskets go by to the family's plot. Papa and mama were behind me and I could tell that papa was holding back his tears and mama was crying a little. I saw a casket with a little girl in it, barely my age, and a cousin of mine. I saw her mother weep into her husband's arms over the lost of their only child. Then I saw Angelo's. Mama couldn't hold in her tears anymore and papa held her. When I saw my brother's lifeless body, I wanted to hold him, kiss him, and wait for him to wake up. But tears only went down my face and I noticed something. In front of everyone, he had a smile on. Angelo was always a child who was chained by this family and only in death was he truly free and I cried to show my happiness of his freedom.
I didn't go to the family plot. I ran to the open field. I took off my tie and jacket. I sat down and cried because I wanted to join my brother. I wanted to play with him and ask him many questions. I was wondering why God took such as wonderful boy away. For some reason I ran to the field of flowers. When I got there, I was surprise to see some flowers already in full bloom and many butterflies. I was able to point out a little butterfly, a butterfly that was the littlest of them all and the most beautiful. I then put on a smile and exclaimed, “You came back!”

It's been about eighty years after my brother died. Papa got tutors for me and made me take the same lessons that Angelo used to take. When I was eight-teen I ran away to the United States where I fell in love and had a family. Now at eighty-nine, I looked at the window and saw how wide it was open. As wide as Angelo used to open it. Then I saw him; he put his head through the window and looked around as if he was looking for something. His face then turned towards me and smiled. He hadn't change a bit. He was still young and had that big smile on. He reached out to me and I grabbed it.

“Look grandfather! There are two butterflies outside!” exclaimed the girl, but her grandfather was already gone. Lying there with a peaceful smile on his face and the girl watched as the two butterflies dance with joy.