And just because he wouldn’t see us, didn’t mean that we forgot about him. We went to the institute every two weeks, but he refused to see us. Ever. Still, we never gave up.
I came home from work one day to find my mother sitting down on the couch crying.
“Mom! What’s wrong?”
She looked up at me, and even as the tears ran down her face, she smiled. She smiled, and handed me a letter. I read through it, and broke out crying myself. Mom wrapped me in her arms and we cried. In 2 short weeks, my brother was turning, and the state wouldn’t be holding him any longer.
The next day, we went crazy. We cleaned and scrubbed his new room, we bought him a car, then remembered that he had never learned to drive, so we paid for a driving instructor. I wanted to get him some clothes, but I had no idea what size he was. We planned a huge dinner: chicken, turkey, ham, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, spaghetti, and salad. We didn’t know what he liked anymore, so we made everything. Then we decided to go out to eat. Then we decided to cook some more. Like I said, we went crazy.
We spent those entire 2 weeks freaking out. On the drive down we were nervous wrecks. And when they brought him out to us, I was shocked. Shell shocked. He was so tall, so big. His brown hair was long and shaggy, his hazel eyes were dark and withdrawn. But when he looked up and saw us, he smiled. “Hey Hayhay. Hey Mom.”
My little Bonito. Although he wasn’t so little anymore. He was taller than me and Mom. And built. My God he was built. His chest looked solid, his arms were huge, and his thighs were thick. He wasn’t a body builder or anything, but everything about him screamed that this was not a man to trifle with.
Man. Yes, my little bonito was definitely a man now. And that man had a brilliant, warming smile. And he was smiling that smile at me. I ran and jumped into his arms, crying. Mom wrapped both of us into hers, also crying. And he just held us and smiled.
You have no idea how much paperwork is required to set someone free from a mental institution. We were there for another two hours as Mark and Mom signed this form and that form. And after a hundred different pieces of paperwork and signatures and initials, we were finally in the car, driving away from the place where the police had held my kidnapped little brother.
We were silent during the 2 hour drive, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. We were just basking in our own private little happy world. Mom drove, constantly wiping at her eyes, while we sat in the back seat. I wrapped myself around Mark while he had one of those huge arms around my shoulders.
“Wow,” he said as we pulled up to the house.
Mom turned around and smiled. “We’ve done pretty well without your father around. Come on honey. Let’s get our hero settled in.”
I, reluctantly, let go of him, while we got out of the car, only for both Mom and I to grasp onto him as we walked into the house. He was back with us, but it was so new, and we were so afraid that we could wake up tomorrow and find out it was all some cruel trick. He didn’t have any clothes so there were no bags to carry. We walked into the house and walked him back to his room.
“Feel free to add whatever you need to make it your own, honey,” Mom told him.
“It’s been so long since I had my own room, I don’t even know what to add to it.”
“I’ll help you pick some things out tomorrow. Besides, we’ve got to get you some clothes,” I said. “Some big clothes. How did you get so big?”
“Boredom. There wasn’t much to do besides work out and talk about your feelings. And since I wasn’t doing much talking…”
“I didn’t think they’d have a weight room,” I said.
“They don’t. We just did lots of push-up and sit ups. And you learn to use stuff around you.”
“Did you not like your therapist,” Mom asked as we walked to the dining room.
“No.”
“Well, Hailey and I both saw one, I can make an appointment for you if you like.”
“No thanks, Mom. I’ve had enough of them to last me a lifetime.” She heard the hardness in his voice, so she dropped the subject. “So what have you two been up to,” he asked.
We stayed up late that night. Talking and hugging and holding each other. We tried to cram 7 years of our lives into his head, not very successfully, but we tried anyway. Still, he never had anything to say about the institution, and we didn’t press him. It was well after midnight before we all finally went to bed.
A noise woke me up around 4 in the morning. I walked out of my room to find Mark roaming the house with a huge smile on his face.
“Bonito, is something wrong?”
“No, Hayhay,” he said, smiling at me, “You just have no idea how it feels to be able to walk outside my room without needing anyone’s permission.”
I pulled him down and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re home, Bonito. You can walk around anytime you want. Now, I’m going back to sleep. Night night.”
“Night, Hayhay.”
When I woke up again it was 10 o’ clock. And I was excited. I was taking my brother shopping today. I washed up and dressed and went down to the kitchen to find Mom and Mark eating pancakes. I got myself a stack and sat down.
“Ready for a long day,” I asked him.
“Sure.”
The first stop was for something he could wear so we could go shopping. The only clothes he had were medical scrubs. So we bought him jeans and t-shirts and underwear and all the other things. We got him fitted for suits, bought shoes and socks, and, the entire time, every girl we came across starred at him. And I didn’t blame them.
Mark was a fine piece of sculpted man-meat. He walked with confidence, head high, shoulders back, his steps were sure-footed. And when he smiled… When he smiled, it was like the world got brighter. And best of all, he had no idea. So he gave that smile out to any and every one.
Girls at the different shops flirted shamelessly with him, but he didn’t respond to any of it. He just smiled as I pulled and pushed him from shop to shop, into this suit and that outfit. He didn’t pay any of those girls any attention. I laughed to myself as I watched them gnaw at their livers at how oblivious he was to them.
“Why do I need all these suits,” he asked me as I bullied him into another one. It was fun bullying him. He was so big and here was this little woman making him get dressed.
“Because Mom is kind of important now, so we get invited to all these dinners and functions. Plus, you look good in a suit.”
“I agree,” said one of the shop girls as she walked by. She had walked by already about 10 times.
“But it feels so weird,” he complained.
“It feels like freedom,” I smiled at him. He laughed as I pushed him back into the changing room.
While I waited for him to change into my next selection for him, the girl came back around. 11.
“Hey, you two aren’t dating are you?”
“No,” I said.
“Is he seeing anyone?” Wow, direct isn’t she. I looked her over. She was cute. Long brown hair pulled back into a pony tail, nice breasts, and slim waist. Yeah, I could see Bonito with her.
“No, he isn’t.”
“Cool, thanks,” she said and walked off.
I saw a few things I wanted to take a look at, not for Mark, just for my own interest. While I was gone, Mark stepped out of the changing room and the girl walked up to him. It was a short conversation. Mark turned bright red as she handed him a slip of paper, and then he retreated back into the changing room.
I realized immediately that, as cute as it was, it was also sad. Mark had been locked up with all boys for half of his childhood. The half where he was supposed to be learning about how to interact with girls. He was shy and lost and had no idea how to talk to a girl that was interested in him.
It was well after 6 when we left, and I’m glad to say, a number of his choices were from my line. My little Bonito had wonderful taste in clothes. Plus, I think I may have gotten my foot into the door for men’s formal wear.
“So are you going to call her,” I asked as I drove us home.
“Call who?”
“The girl from the shop. The one that gave you her phone number.”
I glanced over and saw him blush again. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not, is she not your type?”
“Hailey, I’ve spent the last few years in a nut house. I don’t have a type. Hell, the only women I know are you and Mom.”
The rest of the ride was quiet. I didn’t know what to say to him, how to help him. Maybe I should buy him some porn, I thought.
When we got home and got all his things put up, along with getting his black sheets on the bed, apparently he didn’t like sleeping on white sheets anymore, I told Mom about what happened.
“I didn’t even think about that. Of course he doesn’t have any interpersonal skills.” She looked over at me, “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll figure something out.”
It may be the pride of youth, but I didn’t want to run to my mother with all of my problems. I wanted to help Mark on my own. He was my little Bonito. So, where does any 25 year old woman take her problems? To her girlfriends.
A week later they all came over for dinner. And all those hussies wanted was to be naked in my brother’s bedroom. They all flirted shamelessly and Mark ended up retreating back to his room. I was pissed. Those stupid bitches couldn’t control themselves for 1 night. 1 night! Thirsty bitches.
Well, when girlfriends don’t work out, and they didn’t, where was a 25 year old woman to turn? The internet. Lovely, lovely internet. You’ll never lie to me!
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