“What’s an identity? Really? I’m a digital frame in some distant computer. I’m a history stapled to an image. His could they ever know? How could they ever really know!” I poke at the flames. Ten pallets reach for the sky with flame shaped fingers. Their heat adding to the summer night. A beacon of hope. A lighthouse of warning. Maybe a little of both.
The large fire breathes like a dragon. Pulling in air. Forcing ash skyward. It sears the wood planks. Hissing like Quetazcoatl departing for the heavens. It has a supernatural feel. It draws like a magnet. It destroys anything within. Solid to ash in minutes.
“I could almost prey to you. You are a spirit. I relieved you of the worldly chains. Never will small details control your destiny. Mom and Dad, always said look out for each other.” I sniffle a bit. Ash, harsh dry ash…I must have breathed it in.
“Remember, we got those matching clown tattoos. It covered up my birthmark. You really bought into that bonding crap. If I didn’t screw up and get caught….it would be so different. I never know scrap pays so well. But you wanted legal way. So here we are.” I kick the dirt and gravel into the fire. It flairs a bit from the dust. Sparks flash, glitter like.
“Well today, Elijah goes away. Ernest will be reborn. I’ll try keeping you alive dear twin brother. They won’t miss me. I’ll play up the scheme angle. I hope you enjoyed the Viking funeral. Oh yeah, we don’t own a boat…this is best I could do. Sorry about the hammer to the head thing.” I get choked up again.
“Tomorrow, is a brand new day!” I sit down on a barrel. Slowly, I watch my brother dissapear.