The Basement

Every once in a while as I walk by the door of the basement I stop and search my gut to see if I have what it takes to go down there and satisfy my curiosity. I think it was a Tuesday when I was walking by with a can of mineral water or club soda depending if you're at a country club. There must have been a breeze or something. What ever it was I don't think it was just chance that I got a whiff of the mildew smell that the ground has.
I stopped, looking to my side, and there was the wooden door. Once painted white and now with the stale off white of time and things that have passed. I searched my gut and there was nothing there, so I turned my body towards the door that seemed to be cracked. I was invited in and there was no fear in my gut to stop me, all I needed to do was open the cracked door and move my feet.
I clicked on the light and made my way into the mildew smell. Underground everything was a neat a button. In the middle of the room was an old lazy boy that seemed to be put there for me many years ago just for me. All around me there were boxes with labels. Winter blankets…Winter clothes…Goodwill box… our clothes from when we were children. Then there was the box with nothing written on it. In my gut something started poking at me. It was in a corner. The box had been placed so that you couldn't see it if you just walked into the room. Something that was meant to be forgotten but could never be thrown out. In faint volume I could hear outside the children play in the late summer afternoon.
The basement was well kept no water filtrated in it was dry but the smell of moist was evident. I found myself in front of the standing there with my gut poking a little harder by then. I pulled the box close to the lazy boy. I opened the top and there was an album with old photographs. Photos I hadn't seen in a long time. I love the way humans make things in such a way that by looking at the object you can tell the time frame when it was made. I looked at the photos I came across the one of two boys. One was about nine years old and the other maybe three years old. The older boy was holding the baby in his arms. A great big smile was on the profile of his face while the child had a sleepy look to his face sort of looking down. The photo was obviously taken in the 1970's.
Looking through the box I found other things that I hadn't seen in a long time. Clothes mostly. While I was looking my club soda was getting warm. In my chest I felt that swelling that you feel with great emotions. I could almost feel him standing behind me looking on to the things that I was taking out of the box. I could feel his sadness because he felt mine. The swelling was getting to be bigger than what my chest could handle. I thought about putting everything back and running back up stairs but instead I just kept working my way down the box. It seemed as if it would never end. Towards the end I didn't even pay attention to the objects that I was pulling out. A pair of binoculars…Guns n Roses tapes… a pair of sunglasses. All things that I respected as being his property.
Then my curiosity was satisfied. At the end of it all was what made me stop. His shirt, a belt, some socks all stained with old blood. The swelling in my chest finally burst. He stood behind me and cried because he has made me feel this terrible. I sat there with his shirt in my face washing blood with tears, not because he was dead, but because my mom and I had left him down here as if he was a dirty secret to be ashamed of. After I calmed down, I slowly and carefully put his things back into the box and closed it. I looked around and found a black magic marker. On the front of the box I wrote his name followed by what I felt needed to be there, the words "My Brother". I dragged the lazy boy back toward the hidden corner where the box with no label had been. Next to the other boxes of our clothes as children I set my brother's box. After that he was gone. I walked towards the stairs clicked the light off and walked back upstairs, my mineral water was pretty warm by then.