It was a Problem from Day One

By DW Brownlaw

Copyright © DW Brownlaw 2020. All rights reserved.

We were, what you would call, a dysfunctional family.

I married a scold, a nag, a very strong-willed woman. We argued over everything and, not being strong enough to beat her often, I usually lost. Had I any choice, maybe I would have left her long ago. But I was lonely and needed someone. Thanks to a pioneering chest operation in my youth, I’ve never been a strong man which is why I couldn’t beat her much and why I needed her help. So she ruled the roost, and she knew it. For example, every time we had to relocate, once in a hurry, it was always because of her; I just had to go along with it. 

Starting a family became another big argument. I said repeatedly it was totally illogical. Subsistence farming is hard enough, especially in the virgin and stony soils we first tried cultivating. With my weak and painful chest, I never thought I would manage to feed the two of us, let alone a growing family. But logic never played any part in her thinking and, with the way she could manipulate … my “emotions”, I never really stood a chance.

So, after a couple of years of memorable and “emotional” nights, we ended up with two boys, as different from each other as day and night. 

Sunny, our first-born with blond hair and blue eyes, was obviously the missus’ favourite. He was an arty type, often daydreaming or trying to get sounds out of hollow reeds that he whittled. Almost every day I chastised him for being “away” somewhere in his head and not helping in the fields. He wasn’t a bad kid, just … not always connected with reality. Nor did he grow to be strong, so his best use in the fields was as a shepherd among our herd of sheep and goats. 

Swarthy though, our second, was dark-haired, dark-eyed and dark natured. I think from the moment he was born he was jealous of all the attention Sunny got from the missus. Even as a toddler, he found every opportunity to take out his feelings on his brother. At first it was stupid pranks, blaming Sunny for things he broke himself, tripping him up, pushing him over. It didn’t take Swarthy long to learn how to throw stones and his missiles grew in accuracy and weight as his eye and strength developed. And, my God, he was so strong! As I weakened and shrunk, Swarthy surpassed my height and his strength became the equal of both Sunny’s and mine together. Using a harness, he could pull a sharpened pole through the soil to break it up, making planting so much easier. Work like that, I found, was a useful way to channel his jealousy and aggression. Another benefit was that after such labour, he was usually too tired to do more than snap at Sunny before sleeping.  

Usually.

When our sons were tiny, I naively imagined that they would become small copies of ourselves. I never anticipated how different they would be from us, never mind each other. And those differences bothered me. It’s what stopped me being a good father to them, I think. I was never really there for them as babies - hardly wanting anything to do with them. But I couldn’t disown either or both of these aliens as not being mine because, well, that was clearly impossible.

You may be wondering why I keep referring to our sons in the past tense? Surely, now that the missus and I are ageing and need help, we are being looked after and supported by our two boys? Not a bit of it. 

Swarthy murdered Sunny. 

Shortly after Sunny’s nineteenth birthday, Swarthy just picked up a huge rock and brought it down on his brother’s head. 

What could I do? Without any access to law enforcement, I had no choice but to banish Swarthy from our lands. Never to return. 

Two sons gone. 

Just like that. 

So the missus and I are on our own again, still at odds. We work a much smaller plot of land now, barely enough to sustain ourselves, and fall into an exhausted sleep in separate cots. She nags me, but I don’t listen and I don’t care that she knows this. Other than slowing down, nothing has changed in our lonely, bitter and miserable lives, and I blame her for it. Completely. 

It was a problem from day one, ever since she ate that bloody apple!