Older Brother and I
When I was five my parents took me and my older brother to Washington DC for Thanksgiving. I remember I bought a miniature Blue Angels airplane from the Air and Space museum. I also broke the sliding doors at the hotel. My brother and I would sneak up on the doors from the side and then stand in the middle. When the doors opened we would stay in the middle where the censor couldn’t see us and the doors would close on us. They always reopened except for the last time when they didn’t open on me but just stopped, squeezing me between them. I slid out and the two doors stayed there. I was scared we were going to get yelled out, but no one saw us.
Later that day when we were waiting for the subway to come, my brother and I grabbed the rails of the escalator from the outside and let it carry us up into the air. My brother and I dared each other to see who would go the farthest. I think he won, but by default because on my last attempt the escalator stopped with me dangling in the air. “What do I do?” I pleaded with my brother. “Drop!” He said.
On our way home from the museums I saw a guy working on the escalator as my family took the stairs up. He looked frustrated and wiped sweat from his brow. I felt guilty. I wanted to say sorry, but I was also frightened he would get mad at me.
We spent Thanksgiving in a bar. There was a football game on while we had a turkey dinner amongst a bunch of drunks. I remember the kicker of the Pittsburgh Steelers (I think it was the Steelers) kicked it out of bounds on a kickoff and my dad leaned over to me and said that was a really bad play, and it rarely happens and the kicker was a real bum for kicking it out of bounds and maybe he would even lose his job.
The TV kept on showing close up shots of the kicker looking sad and depressed. He was standing alone and no one was talking to him. I felt bad for the kicker and hoped he wouldn’t lose his job. He seemed like a nice enough guy.
When we got back to the hotel there was a guy fixing the sliding doors at the hotel. He looked like the same guy that fixed the escalator. I went up to him and said sorry for breaking the escalator too. He said, what escalator? And what do you mean “too”? I got nervous and hurried up to my parents who were waiting for the elevator. When the doors dinged open I ran inside the elevator. My mom asked me what the hurry was. I told her I didn’t want to break anything anymore.
