brothers' dreaming

Once upon a night a little boy named Cain dreamed about flying in the sky above a beautiful land of sacred living mysteries, long forgotten, half remembered. The dream was so lovely and made Cain feel so happy that he wanted very much for it not to be a dream. He wanted to share the experience with his younger brother Abel asleep in the next room. Cain wanted Abel at his side flying through the air of that magic dream world, gazing from on high in delight at the tapestry of colour and music unfolding beneath them.

The next morning Cain felt strange, not quite with it, off balance. He was happy and excited, as if he had discovered a wonderful secret that would change everything. But he was also angry and resentful that he had to get up and go to school. He wished he could just go back to sleep and resume the mysterious dream.

Abel woke up that morning feeling hot and dizzy. Their mother, Eve, took one look at his pale sweaty face and said "no school for you today sweetie, you must be coming down with something."

Then Cain said "he’s faking', it's not fair…" and Abel said "am not!" and Cain said "am so!" and they had a fight which distracted Cain so he forgot to ask Abel about the events of the previous night.

The day went from strange to worse for Cain. Nothing went right. Whatever he did seemed to be at odds with everyone and everything. In language lessons he was the only kid who couldn’t do the comprehension test (mainly because he was too busy thinking about the dream and about how unfair it was that Abel was allowed to stay at home in bed).

In lunch break Cain stood alone while everyone around him was laughing and playing and shouting at the top of their voices. Cain didn't feel welcome in any of the groups. Even his friends didn't seem to want him around.

The pattern of that day was to be repeated for the rest of his life.

* * *

Over the years, the paths of the brothers diverged substantially.

Abel found love, happiness and success. It was as if he'd been blessed. He married the woman he loved and who loved him. They created children and the whole family lived together in a large, comfortable house on a verdant hill with an outlook on the ocean. The house was always full of love and laughter.

In contrast, the harvest of Cain’s life was bitter fruit --- loneliness, poverty and misfortune. He never married, never held down a job longer than a few weeks, never found his way in the world. Wherever he went, whatever he did, sooner rather than later he would move on, leaving a trail of broken promises behind him.

It was as if he'd been cursed, as if something were holding him back, weighing him down, preventing him from making any progress. That something was the magic dream journey. He thought about it incessantly. Had it really happened? Had he soared like a bird in the sky above that land where you could hear colours and see music? Had Abel been there with him? Did Abel remember anything about that night, about that mysterious world full of wonder and beauty, where Cain had been happy and free for the last time in all of his lifetime?

Cain was always on the move so the brothers saw very little of each other. When they did meet, Cain would remember that he wanted to ask his brother about that night. But something always got in the way, and the question remained unasked and unanswered.
The misfortunes of their eldest son caused Adam and Eve much sorrow. They would talk about how Abel had settled into life ("…like he’s enjoying a long hot bath," Eve would say) and about how Cain was always on the move ("…like he’s running away from something," Adam would say).

"Maybe he isn’t running away," Eve would say, "maybe he’s running towards something, except he doesn’t know what it is, or where it is, or how to get there."

"I don’t know dear," Adam would reply, "that's too deep for me, that new age mumbo-jumbo. Put him in the army, that'll sort him out. Think I’ll call Abel and see how he’s getting on…" (He couldn’t call Cain because Cain had no fixed address and no telephone. You didn’t get in touch with Cain: Cain got in touch with you, and only if he needed money.)

Most of the time Cain’s mind was in a fog of alcohol or drugs or both, and it wasn’t productive to try and hold a meaningful conversation with him. Or if he wasn’t drugged and/or drunk he’d be sleeping it off in a gutter somewhere, in a puddle of his own vomit. But whether his mind was foggy, his mood black or merely dark grey, his thoughts would invariably turn to that night so long ago. What had happened?
The Question tormented Cain, gnawed at his soul, drove him from one disaster to the next.

For his part Abel loved his brother with all his might. The troubles and misadventures that plagued Cain throughout his misbegotten life were a source of much sorrow for Abel. He tried to help Cain whenever and however he could, with money and in other ways. But bad luck was Cain's constant companion, and nothing worked out the way it was supposed to. Helping Cain always seemed to end in disaster, with the situation even worse than before.

On the other hand, good luck and success followed Abel wherever he went, whatever he did. He was a wealthy man with lots of houses, bank accounts and share portfolios. But it wasn't only material success. He was a winner in other fields as well --- social, emotional, sexual and intellectual.

Abel's test scores in high school were the second highest of his year. He went on to University where he studied Sociology and Psychology and Cultural Anthropology. His educational achievements culminated in a doctorate that allowed him to put "PhD" after his name.

Cain dropped out of high school two years before any of the other kids in his year. He wasn't the second worst, he was the worst student the school had ever had.

Abel built himself a reputation as a leading thinker. He wrote books and articles on a range of topics, such as alienation, anomie, cognitive dissonance and self-actualisation. He hosted lavish parties attended by leading designers, actors, novelists and fashionable radicals --- bearded and unbearded alike.

There were no parties for Cain, only the occasional sullen sharing of cheap wine with a junkie whore in the bushes at the back of a park, or in a dark alleyway somewhere.

Abel was famous as well as rich. He was often in the news. His name, face, achievements and philanthropy were the subject of much fawning publicity in the global media.

Cain never had a dollar he hadn't stolen or begged. He was an unknown, unwashed face in the crowd. He achieved nothing other than staying alive until his death. And everywhere he went, a profound misanthropy hung over him like a black shroud.

Abel was generous and kind. He loved well and was well-loved in return, by himself as well as by others. Cain was introspective, envious and resentful, and hated himself even more than he believed others did.

Abel took appropriate pride in his achievements. Cain saw himself as a failure, a loser.

Abel believed himself (correctly) to be highly intelligent. He bragged about it a lot to friends and family, including Cain, on the increasingly rare occasions they got together. Abel's bragging about his intelligence was a flaw, a weakness, but not a big deal as far as his friends were concerned. To them it was endearing in a way, a teeny little stain on an otherwise pristine character. Nor was it a wide and general boastfulness. It was only ever about the one thing: his self-proclaimed "brilliant mind".

In fact the flaw was really two flaws, closely related. Alongside braggadocio stood blindness. Abel was boastful of his brains, and blind to the boasting. If he'd been aware of it, he would have been sincerely mortified. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t see it. Even when well-meaning friends told him about it to his face, he would laugh it off, brush it aside, deny it.

He doesn't get it, his friends would say of him with wry affection. He'll never get it, he'll deny it with his dying breath, they'd say, though never to his face.

Whereas Abel's blindness was localised and specific, Cain's was more general in nature. His flaws were many and various, and he was blind to all of them. In Cain's mind, none of his problems were of his own making. They were all someone else's fault. The world was out to get him. A monstrous drug- and alcohol-fuelled paranoia was the defining feature of his personality.

Cain had a very close relationship with alcohol. Abel drank in moderation. On the rare occasions they got together they would go to the low places of the City, to little known dark and dingy bars where Abel wouldn't be seen by his rich and famous friends. There the brothers would sit into the early hours. Abel would drink wine and mineral water. Cain would drink neat whiskey --- entirely on Abel's money of course.

They avoided talking about their lives and personal circumstances --- the differences were too great, the contrasts too stark. It would have been embarrassing and humiliating. So they talked mainly sport, or politics (they stood opposed on most issues).

At times like those, in the pre-dawn hours in the small dark bars in the low places of the City, when their hearts and minds were suffused with the warm glow of alcohol, the sharp rancour that Cain felt toward his brother would subside to a dull ache. And then it would occur to him to ask Abel the Question about the magic dream journey.

But something always got in the way. The bartender would start closing up, or someone would interrupt, or there would be a power failure, or a call would come through on Abel's cellphone... and the Question would remain unasked and unanswered.

It was always there, at the back of Cain's mind. The memory that had once been beautiful had long since turned into a source of pain. But was it even a memory? If only it were a memory! More likely, he would tell himself, it was simply the product of a little boy's overactive imagination. If only he could confirm the truth about that night, Cain believed, his whole life would have turned out better, much better.

* * *

If Cain had come across a bookmaker willing to accept money on which brother would die first, he would have taken a deep plunge on himself, boots and all. But the first to go was not, as you might expect, the mad bad sad brother, the penniless, petrol-sniffing, garbage-eating, schizoid-bum-living-on-the-streets brother. No. It was the well-loved and well-loving brother who died first, the regularly-exercising, sensibly-eating, high self-esteeming brother. The firstborn should have been first to die --- FIFO, in accounting terms, first in first out --- but it didn't turn out that way.

It happened on one of their rare get-togethers in the City, one night upon a deserted street. They'd been in a bar drinking. Abel was walking a little unsteadily, but coping well, whereas Cain was stumbling and falling and bellowing drunken abuse: "…your money, your family, your house! Doesn't make you better 'n me, little prick! Doesn't make you a better person! Fuck's sake!"

"Sorry brother," said Abel "truly sorry".

"Fucking three degrees... brilliant mind... piece a shit!! Think you so fucking smart, don’tcha!"

"No, that’s not true," said Abel softly but with firm conviction. And it was that outright flat denial that sparked a murderous rage in Cain. A lifetime of disappointment, frustration, anger and hatred reached critical mass and he exploded, striking his younger brother with a savage blow, and then another, and another… until battered and bloody, Abel lay on the pavement dying.

A sudden bliss arose behind his eyes and he murmured, "...the colours Cain, see the music…"

The words pierced Cain's rage and drunkenness, shocked him to sobriety as he suddenly realised what he had heard.

"What did you say?" he shouted at his brother.

"I'm no bragger," whispered Abel and then died.

Grief distorted Cain's face as he half-growled, half-sobbed: "No! No! Wait… I need to ask you…"

The end.

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