Certain Responsibilities

We woke up from the ether at exactly 2.38pm. I know it was exactly that time because I wear a Casio wristwatch linked to an atomic clock updated every morning to the correct time. You were slower to come to your senses.
   
“Why are we wearing hospital gowns?” you said.

“I don’t know,” I replied. My memory was patchy, I suspect yours was too, but I didn’t say anything. I tried to respect you and hated inadvertantly embarrassing you, in public or when we were alone.

My eyes were adjusting to the dim light when it became brighter as a large video screen on the wall flickered into life. A white-haired and bearded man dressed in purple robes appeared on the screen.

“Welcome gentlemen,” he said. The sound was emanating from speakers mounted to the left and right walls. “You have been selected by a completely random and fair process for an experiment. In front of you is a table of food and drink. It will last approximately a day between the two of you. At the far end of this room are two doors. One leads to certain death, the other to an uncertain future. You do not have to take either of those two doors. There is one more door behind you. It may or may not open at any time and what comes through it may or may not be good or bad. Gentlemen, the choice is yours and the world is watching.”

As suddenly as it had appeared, the man faded into nothingness and the screen switched itself off.

“What do you make of that?” you said.

“I guess we have to make a decision.”

“Yeah, I guess we do. I’m hungry.”

I watched you go to the table and stuff sandwiches, sausage rolls, biscuits and cake into your mouth. I watched you do it for a whole minute before I said anything. I wonder if you could see my expression growing darker. I wonder if the cameras that I was sure were in the room could.

“Stop. It. Stop it now, you idiot.” I hissed at you in a voice pitched as low as I could manage.

“What?” you said.

“Weren’t you listening at all just now? That food will last a day. Not at that rate.”

“Whatever,” you said.

Anger bubbled in me like a bottle of carbonated water suddenly unscrewed. I rose from my cross-legged position and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you away from the table.

“Hey!” you said. The expression on your face said it all. A mixture of shock, disappointment; a wounded puppy and I’d just whacked you with a rolled-up newspaper.

“You always were stupid,” I said.

“You choose to tell me this now?”

“Yes, now. You’ve held me back my entire life. I’ve taken care of you, defended you, everything. I’m tired of it. Start acting like a grown-up.”

“Fine.”

 I felt like I’d snapped something between us just then. I didn’t know if I could repair it, or even what it was, but as I looked at the distance between us, you lying on the floor propped up on your elbows and me sitting here, I don’t know if I ever can.

“We have to think about this, we’ll take as much food as we can carry, we don’t know what will happen next and when we’ll need it…”

But you ignored me, leaping up, scooping food into your arms and striding ahead.

“What are you doing?” I called, “where are you going? We haven’t even discussed this.”

“I’m not waiting around for that door behind us to open. Whatever’s going to happen, I want to get it over with now.”

“Is this because of what I said?”

“No,” I heard you say hotly as you pushed at the door on the right.

I swore under my breath, ran to the table and grabbed the remaining food to carry as much as I could. I took one glance at the door behind us, but its blankness betrayed nothing of what could be behind it. You always were impatient.

“Wait! I shouted and you turned and our eyes met. “Whatever’s going to happen, it’ll happen to both of us. I’ve got your back, you know I always have.”

I thought you were going to say something but then the corner of your mouth turned up a little and we clasped hands. I shoved you playfully through the door. I’m an older brother and I’ll be an older brother to the end, whenever or wherever that may come.