Brotherly Love

This post dips back to the pre-Comstock Era. Back before Louis and I had much, if any, contact with the characters you are all familiar with. There is however one character I will introduce, my brother.

My brother is eleven years over ten years younger than I am. This story took place back in high school for me, which put my brother in the 5-8 range. He was as large kid for his age, often mistaken for a child several years older. My brother was an aggressive child to say the least. Many is the time he was sent home dejected because the mother of one of the many children his age on our street, sent him home for playing too rough, usually resulting in a knockdown of another kid and crying. My brother was never one to shy away from new people, especially any friend of mine. His usual plan of attack (that IS absolutely what it was), involved running out of nowhere, screaming some awful attack cry, and attaching himself to the “invaders” leg. He would sit on their foot and grasp all four limbs around their leg. The next phase in his attack was his favorite, and he then held a death grip on their leg while giggling. Dislodging him from friends unfamiliar with this was difficult, but when he attacked myself or a good friend I could assault him back with a force that would place him in jail in any other circumstance. I had to develop an arsenal of moves as he would develop a counter to eat success. My “old stand by” was to force a beak with my hand and spear his exposed side. I later learned this maneuver again, years later, during Kung Fu class.

The first of my “brotherly” tales involves Louis. My brother loved the surprise attack. You could expect him to run screaming around any corner at any time. This particular incident was set as Louis and I were engaged in a wrestling match. Around the corner, screaming like the often spoken of, but rarely seen banshee, comes my brother, brandishing a screwdriver. Be it a deep sense of family defense, or assuredly rather the gumption to cause disruption, my brother held the screwdriver, BY THE SHAFT, over his head. He cracked Louis across the back of his head with the screwdriver handle. Louis had been successfully felled; left crumpled and useless on the floor. As quickly as mt brother appeared he was off again to continue his mayhem.

The next incident also involves my brother attacking Louis. We were shoveling my driveway. We had three shovels. Two plastic, and one of those exceptionally wide metal, somewhat rusty shovels. Time and duty has turned this metal shovel into a battle axe. We mindfully left this weapon, born of the elements, to the side. While climbing in the snow bank I looked over at Louis to see my brother about to swing this battle axe at the perfect height of Louis’s neck. “DUCK!” In an uncharacteristic display of quickness Louis face-planted himself in the snow just as I witnessed the glean off the metal guillotine as it zoomed through the space once occupied by Louis’ head. Louis was not pleased.

A third example of my brother’s character. Louis and I are sitting on the front step, talking. My brother runs by. Makes a dead stop. Looks at us, then runs off. About ten minutes later he comes back with six of the other kids of the neighborhood. He lines them up on the sidewalk, as if he is their drill Sgt. He then walks down the line, and hands each one a weapon (stocks, rocks, or one of the various kids toys scattered about the street). He then turns towards Louis and myself and an evil grin emerges. We stood up, and entered the house.

The final two tales spare Louis’s health. Another example of how much my brother admired the surprise tactic. I drove him to Karate class one day. I watched the class; the first thirty minutes being instruction, and the last thirty some game. Today’s game placed the students in a circle. Upon start “last man standing: was the game. In practice this meant students paired off and spared until a solid hit was acquired, at which time the target sat down. This continued until there was only one. My brother applied a different tactic (which we dubbed Dumb-Kata). When the whistle blew he jumped two steps towards the circle’s center (traditionally everyone else took one step, but my brother’s were more energetic). Just as everyone else was moving towards the center he retreated backwards outside the circle and then stalked the best/biggest students (who were by now paired off into a sparing match) and struck them a solid blow to the back – taking them out of the game. When any of the games got down to the final few students the teacher sometimes jumped in. On this occasion it was down to my brother and two others who were both smaller/less skilled than my brother. The teacher jumped in. My brother organized the others against the teacher. He placed them in formation, on either side of himself. At his command they all charged the teacher. Once again my bother began his forward charge only to stop and circle around to the behind the teacher, who was now engaged with two front-side attackers. My brother’s death blow to the teacher, and moment of triumph was at hand! Too bad she blocked both forward attackers while back kicking my brother. The best laid plans 🙂

Finally, the towel whip. Like the forthcoming new chapter of Indiana Jones, my story involves a whip. I had just finished using our pool, and was using my towel to whip a chair leg. Louis had discovered that if you twist your arm as the towel wraps around the chair leg, it will lock – letting you grab and pull the chair. I was practicing this maneuver when my brother launched one of his surprise/screaming attacks. I turned my whip practice on him. A perfect shot! My towel whip wrapped around his ankle and he was yanked off his feet. He landed on the back of his head, but thankfully he was fine. He got up and ran off again. Bring on the lions!

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3 Responses

  1. I remember the lad well! He came to visit us at Princeton for a few days during which time he beat me at 173 consecutive hands of poker. While I suspected some cheating was going on, the tales of his attacks kept me in check. My intentions to inebriate him with beer and win back my money were thwarted by Aaron who lodged unfair objections.

    I might add that while it’s wonderful that Aaron and Dan are occasionally posting, we still await Louis’s ribald creamer tale as well as his mis-remembered PC version of ‘Saving Schultz’. Lack of input may force me to render my own version of the former, and you can bank on the fact that she’ll be a honey.

  2. I forgot about my brother’s visit. This now reminds me of during that bout of poker, when Dan and my brother caught each other cheating at the same time. One pointed to the other in accusation and an extra card fell out. It was quite laughable, especially when they both cried to me, who was just taking it all in.

    Yeah Louis!

  3. Let us not forget the time when we were sitting on the couch and he ran into the room and proclaimed “I’ll show YOU Dumb-Kata!” He then struck Aaron a mighty punch in the knee, then fled before retaliation could occur.

    At around ages 4-6 he became very fond of the nut punch. I remember two incidents. In one case I was standing in Aaron’s kitchen when he ran into the room and landed a solid one right in my testes. In another he managed to nail me in the nuts right at the top of the stairs, upon which I reflexively hurled him down the small flight of stairs. After his usual wailing and faking of injury (followed by Aaron freaking out that I tossed his brother downstairs) he immediately recovered and attempted to launch a surprise attack. Fortunately I was wise to this, having witnessed the “red-faced crying after apparent injury” ruse one too many times. It was inevitably followed by the attempted punch in the nuts.

    As for the shovel, I parried it I believe.

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