That Infernal Blue                                 
December 7th, 1941
That infernal blue. It surrounded his every sense. That salty smell, so powerful it rested on the tip of his tongue, like a word begging to be set free. It captivated him, holding him in it’s thrall. It roared around around him, bringing up the faded memory of a tiger and it’s ringmaster in a circus. Within semother would never sing. An unspoken speech comforting him in the face of reality. Preparing him for the darkness that would eventually seize him.
5 years earlier……..conds he was caught in the web of blue. Finally, he reached the only solace he had. The blue flooded his being and the silence saved him. The silence was like a lullaby a
1936
It’s not Enough
Christian’s head broke the surface of the water.
“And…. time,” shouted Coach Manson, his face turning red as if he was the one who had just finished swimming his heart out.
Christian climbed out of the pool, anxious to hear the results that could either make his day or ruin it completely.
“Cooke! Come here,” said coach Manson, his white bushy tail of a moustache shaking with each word. His bald head shone with the effort of racing from one end of the pool to the other. His glory days, as he so fondly called them, were clearly far behind him.
“I’m here. So....How did I do?”
“Two seconds more than your brother’s record. You need to push harder,”.
Masking his disappointment, he mutely nodded his affirmation and set to work. He would break that record, no matter what it cost him. The stillness of turquoise was rudely interrupted by a boy diving into the pool, determined to be better.
Earth to the 30s.
It was a time where radios were all the rage. A time where swing dancing was taking the country by storm. A simpler time. Christian’s time. Christian walked out of the pool center feeling dejected. He had tried and failed and tried and failed. When would the circle ever end? As he walked past the cinema showing an upcoming attraction about a princess and a handful of dwarves, a ratty old jalopy came to a stop near him. Inside was a person who had bullied him for years, someone who had made him his scapegoat and was the devil’s advocate. His brother. ‘At least he’s giving me a ride home’, thought Christian as he attempted to pry the cobalt door open.
Closed Thoughts
You could hear him coming from a mile away on a bad day, the neighbours would say. This was certainly a bad day as Christian Cooke stomped all the way home, silently fuming. First he couldn’t beat his brother’s time, then he had mocked him relentlessly for his failure and now said brother had left him stranded on the sidewalk, with half an hour left to reach home by foot. He was supposed to drop Christian home, but instead had left him in the middle of the street to meet up with his friends behind the bleachers at school. ‘God knows what they’re doing!’ Christian hated his brother with the fury of a scorned woman. The memory of the crime swam in his mind.
“Get out,”
“Why David?” said Christian exasperatedly.
“Because little brother, you are going to walk home while I go out with my friends. Have fun, stay on the sidewalks and say hi to mother for me. I’m sure she’s feeling quite………. liberated tonight,”. Without further ado David unceremoniously shoved Christian out of the car and drove away in great haste to catch up to his friends on the next block.
‘How could that selfish, self centered person be my brother?’ thought Christian. ‘We’re nothing alike.’ Christian didn’t just mean their personalities but even their physical traits. As Christian trudged silently on the sidewalk, he stopped near a puddle. As he peered into the muddy water, a pair of green eyes reflected back at him. A green inherited from his mother. A green so different from the blue eyes of David, his brother. The type of blue that neither of his parents possessed.
Drunken Interventions
When Christian reached his home, he heard the shattering of glass. ‘ Oh great’. His mother was drunk. Again. ‘So that’s what David meant by liberated.’ Anger surged in him at the mere thought of his brother. He ventured inside the house wondering what drunken nonsense she would mumble today. Sometimes if she was completely inebriated, she would let secrets drop out like pennies. He chanced upon her, sprawled on the couch in the living room. Her arms and legs hung limp and her blonde hair splayed across the couch like a halo. ‘Oh the irony’ he thought. His mother was far from an angel. He could tell by the soft snores that she was fast asleep. The anger and worry that normally lined her face when David was near, seemed to fade in her slumber. As he leaned over the couch to pick up a fallen glass, he smelt the alcohol. He couldn’t stop himself from remembering that fateful day two years ago.
“Get out you -------!” screamed Christian’s mother.
“You’re not in charge of me!”
His brother and mother were locked in a vicious battle. Neither of them noticed Christian at the top of the stairs, peering down at his family. His father had obviously made some excuse and left for the pub. Suddenly David rushed up the stairs and paused when he spotted his little brother. He leaned in close and whispered things that Christian would never forget. Words laced with the god awful smell of his father’s best whiskey. Things that made Christian’s worst nightmare come to life. His brother’s harsh breath fanned across Christian’s face, as he told him that Christian would never live up to him. He told him that he  was weak and his life would be dictated by others. A spasm of rage flared across his face as he attempted to stand up to his brother.
“Don’t talk about me you.. you….,”
“You what?”, he whispered bitterly, his face contorted into something unnatural.
WIth that he walked off.
“-------,” whispered David, praying that he would be forgiven for his language
Ever since that day David had stopped swimming and had started to drink more than he used to.
Like mother, like son.
With a shake of his head, he brought a blanket for his mother, where she lay on the couch. She groaned as the blanket touched her and asked if anyone was there.
“Yes, mama.”
“Oh Christian,” she slurred.
“I tried to stop, but your father went to the club and left me alone with your leech of a bother. I couldn’t handle it.
“Of course mama. Now just rest.”
As he was about to walk away he was stopped by his mother.
“Christian?”
“Yes, mother”
“Do you ever wonder why I never call David my son?”
“Well, I always thought it was because of the embarrassment that would bring,”
He tried to say this with an easygoing nature, scared of where the conversation was going.
“Hmmmmm. No honey. He’s a -------,”
With that she was asleep once more.
Christian froze. Of course he had heard his mother call David that a million times more, but know he looked at that word with a new perspective. Light had finally shone on the questions that he had shoved to the back of his mind about David. Questions that he had buried amongst his hatred for his brother. Questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to be answered. Suddenly, everything started to make sense. It was as if the missing piece of a puzzle had finally been found. His heart started pounding at the mere thought of the possibility that his brother..  No, his half-brother. It seemed like an eternity until the glass he had picked from the floor hit the ground and spilled what was left of the blue alcohol.
Confrontational Escapes
It was the dead of night, almost morning but not quite yet. Christian had barely slept in three days. Since the night he learned a terrible secret. A secret that threatened to destroy what little bond he and David shared. Speaking of David he hadn’t been home, since that day. His mother had ignored the absence and had conveniently forgotten her words under the influence of the blue poison. Christiann was anxious to talk to his brother. To see if he knew the truth. Suddenly Christian heard the front door slam shut. He leapt off his bed and crept down the oak staircase, clutching on to the banister for dear life. As he reached the foot of the staircase, he came face to face with a pair of blue eyes. David was back.
“Little brother,” he said in a way of greeting.
“David,” came the terse reply.
“I see you’ve waited up for me.”
“Stop it David. Mama told me something. Would you happen to know what it would be?”
“I see. And what would be your question?”
“Is it true..that...?”, he couldn’t get the words out. They lodged in his throat uncomfortably. He tried again. “Is it true that you’re… you’re not..? He couldn’t say it. However David seemed to know what he was asking.
“What do you think?”, he asked harshly.
“I think that it would explain alot. Why you and Mama keep fighting. Why you look nothing like our parents, what with your black hair and blue eyes.”
“Well done little brother. You’re right. I am nothing but a constant reminder of dear old Dad’s only mistake. Does that explain why your mother hates me now? Are you happy now?”
“I...I”
“What? Nothing to say?”, he scoffed. “Don’t bother. I’m leaving anyway. I just came back to pick up some stuff. Now that I have it, I’ll be out of your perfect little life. Tell your mother I can’t wait to see the next Christmas card. Tell Father he doesn’t have to be ashamed now”. Christian had seen a lot of things in his brother’s eyes, but he had never seen what he saw that night. David seemed broken. His eyes reflected a defeat so profound, so utterly hopeless.
“David..!”
David stood up straighter. The defeat in his eyes were gone and replaced with steel. 
“Goodbye.”
And with a mock salute he was gone. It was as if the high tide at the pier had washed him away, erasing his footsteps. Dawn peeked out from behind a thick curtain, beckoning Christian to step into the shadow of the sky reflected on the marble.
Crystal Clear
Breathe in.
‘How could David just leave like that?’
Go back under
‘Without telling mama and Father?’
Breathe out.
‘How could he think that leaving was the best solution?’
Resurface
‘He will return one day, begging for us to forgive him’. Yet, Christian still couldn’t stop that little shred of doubt lingering in the back of his mind.
Breathe in
‘I mean, how can he even survive without us? His family!’
Go back under.
‘Does he still think of us as family?’  Despite the rivalry between them, Christian still loved his brother..
Breathe out and resurface.
Christian reached the end of the pool. He climbed out wearily. He wasn’t sure if he was tired from swimming or if it was something else entirely. Lately, it seemed like he had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, ever since that day three months ago. He could see Coach Manson shouting at him, but frankly he didn’t care. Everything around seemed to pass by him as if he was inside a bubble. His own parents hadn’t even cared when David had left. Suddenly, the bubble pierced.
“.....WHAT ARE YOU DOING COOKE? YOU’VE BEEN STUCK IN A SLUMP FOR THREE MONTHS! EVEN YOUR BROTHER WOULD’VE SNAPPED OUT OF IT BY NOW. HE BARELY TRAINED FOR A YEAR AND LOOK AT YOU, TWO YEARS LATER WITH NOTHING TO SHOW FOR IT!”.
Christian saw red. He couldn’t take it anymore. Even now, when his brother was nothing but a ghost, people were still comparing him to David. His father and now his coach. That had always been why he couldn’t stand David when he was still home. He looked at Coach Manson, who could see that he had taken it too far. Chills rose up on the back of Manson’s neck as he watched Christian getting ready to leave. Christian walked out of the place he had trained at for two years. A place he knew would always be there for him, but now things had changed.  He slammed the door shut behind him and ran all the way home, leaving behind the looming pool center, where the chipped blue paint was finally peeling apart.
1938
Rising Tensions
Christian stood outside of his father’s study, listening in on the conversation between his parents. However he could only catch snippets of it.
“Marie…..foreign countries...…tension…….war…..years.”
“But we can’t let Christian..!”
“...won’t…...Christian…...safe……...at home.”
Christian knew that a war was on the horizon. It would be years since the official announcement. For now it was labeled under the title of disputes .He also knew that his parents wanted to keep him safe and stop him from enlisting. He was of age at seventeen. They won’t be able to stop him. What young, healthy, red-blooded American wouldn’t want to serve his country? Especially since his father was once general himself, till he had been honorably discharged with a rank so widely respected.Christian let his thoughts stray loose, until he came up to David. ‘Where was he? Is he okay? Would he enlist?’ Shaking his head he left to go to his room, expecting an announcement. He turned on his radio and waited. He almost missed it but heard it in time.
……….static…….. “we will now be recruiting young soldiers starting from the age of seventeen for the Navy. We await the volunteers who are brave enough to serve their country.”
Christian turned it off and smiled as the sun glinted off the steel blue radio.
Recruit
It was hot. The sun was beating down on the hundreds of young men in line for recruitment. Christian stood anxious to sign up. He couldn’t believe that his parents had finally allowed him to do this. It had taken weeks of pleading, but they had finally relented. Christian was given the freedom to join the Navy. The lines were beginning to dwindle down. Christian anticipated the moment where he would be able to pursue his dream by signing his name on the roster. Before he knew it, it was his turn. Time seemed to slow down. The sun pressed against him, slowly choking him. He swallowed nervously. This was his turning point. There was no going back after the next few minutes that would determine his life.  His brother was wrong the day he whispered in Christian’s ear. ‘I am brave enough to take control over my life.’, he thought. He grabbed the pen and wrote his name down, with no trace of fear in his eyes. It was done. He breathed a sigh of relief and left. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a man. His hair was black and his stature reminded him of David. Christian spun around hoping to confront him. Unfortunately, the man was gone in the crowds of men eagerly waiting to fulfill their duties. Just like him. He walked to the pier and he took out the farewell gift his mother had given him. He tied the blue ribbon around his wrist, where he let it flutter.
1939
The Beginning of The End
Christian stood stiffly. His back was ramrod straight, mirroring the other men saluting their Captain aboard the ship. His uniform had been pressed to be coarse and stiff. His eyes scanned over his fellow soldiers, roving over until he came upon someone so familiar yet distant. The black hair and pale face seemed to fit into the puzzle. It wasn’t until he caught the eyes of the man that he was sure. They were that familiar blue. David. So he had joined the Navy. David suddenly spotted Christian. Recognition flashed through his eyes, but it hardened into a sharp glint. When they were dismissed, David walked off with a brisk pace, never looking back. So did Christian.
Their training began. They learned how to steer a ship, make a raft, to read code.  They learned how to fight, to shoot, to kill. Gone were the fantasies of glory and in settled reality. War wasn’t a game, it was a desperate measure. Christian was determined to prevent it. He soon rose up to the ranks of the top student, while David remained sub par. Christian could feel the hatred radiating off of David as he walked by him each day. Yet a word was never spoken between them.
Uniform Chaos
It was a cold day when they were dropped into the midst of a battle. Out in the woods, Christian and his fellow soldiers knew that the enemy would soon approach. Fresh out of training, Christian was ready to unleash all that he had learnt in the navy. He knew that after this fight, he would return to the ship and set course to the rest of his life. For now however, he began to fight. A lone ring of a shot alerted Christian and his men to the enemy. They began to do what they were taught, to kill. Shots were fired haphazardly. Shrapnel flew, piercing metal and skin. Dust coated the air, impairing everyone’s vision. Christian leaned against his gun, gasping for air. An hour had passed,  leaving most of the recruits tired. Christian still pushed forward, battling with all that he had. In the midst of mayhem, he could see his brother fruitlessly trying to keep his ground. Suddenly he spotted an enemy aiming for David. Christian didn’t think. He ran. He came upon David just as the shooter took his aim. Christian managed to knock David out of what would have been a fatal shot. They landed on a heap on the deck of the ship. Blood was staining the earth. Christian could see the fear, gratitude and shock in his brother’s eyes. He followed his brother’s gaze to his shoulder where blood was seeping through.
‘So that’s where the bullet went,’ Christian thought . He looked up to the sky marvelling at the clouds. Then the world fell black, like the curtain at the end of a play.
Healing
Christian groggily woke up on his cot aboard the ship. He groaned as his head pounded relentlessly. His shoulder was bandaged at the area where the bullet pierced him. He could hear lively jazz playing from the upper decks and his crewmembers laughing. He was confused. ‘How did I get back to the ship? is everyone alright? Is David…? David!’ With a jolt he remembered what had transpired in the woods. He looked around the room, and saw that he wasn’t alone.
“David,” he rasped.
“Christian!”
“What are you doing here?”
“You saved me.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
Christian could see the storm brewing in David. David had always been one to hide his emotions. However, now Christian could see that his brother was a mess. An emotional one. Christian looked away, knowing that this was the first time in what seemed like forever since they had talked to each other. Christian swallowed thickly, when something inside David seemed to break. It was as if all the anger and fear in David’s eyes had vanished. They fell into an embrace that ended as quickly as it started. They smiled at each other, knowing that with each other everything would be alright.
“So little brother, how are the folks?” said David with a smirk. A smirk that seemed to lift up the gloominess of the room colored in blue.
Yep. Everything was going to be alright.
December 7th, 1941
Crisis
Christian was still asleep. Dawn was peeking through, but he was halfway below a ship. It was always dark, despite the dim lights. He stirred not ready to wake up. His gut was telling him that something big was going to happen. He was too tired to listen to his instincts. He couldn’t get back to sleep no matter how much he tried. Keeping his eyes closed, he replayed the last two years of his life. Him and David had slowly become brothers again. They stuck with each other through thick and thin in and out of the Navy. Especially during that horrible Thanksgiving dinner, where he had persuaded him to come home. Eventually, David and his family had worked through their differences. Now they were stationed in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Suddenly an explosion rocked the boat. Christian was up in a heartbeat. He could hear the screams of the men who had been hit by….. By what? He knew that this wasn’t a drill. Otherwise the crew would have been informed in advance.Christian could hear the water rushing into the boat. He ran out of his room, where all the men had already left. ----. He was late. He tried to reach the hatch before the water would sink the boat. The hatch wouldn’t budge. He tried again, when another explosion hit the boat. This time it left a hole near his head, big enough for water but too small for him to get out. He panicked. There was nowhere left to go. The water had already reached his ankles. Hopeless, he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to die. He prayed for the first time in his life. He prayed for his family, his crewmembers, for David and for his soul. He took a deep breath before a cage of blue captured him. Silence descended. He had nowhere to go. The water was torturously killing him. His lungs were on fire. He knew that sooner or later he would let the captivating blue in to staunch the flame. All of his swimming was no good in this trap. He could almost hear his coach, screaming at him to push harder. If only he had listened, if only he had stayed. The darkness was slowly taking its hold over him. This was the end. A darker blue flashed by him. A blue he associated with only one person. His eyes closed and refused to open. He was slipping in and out of reality. He felt himself being pulled by his arm as he let go and embraced the darkness like an old friend. He felt himself being lifted higher and higher. Was that a light he could see? Was that the sun or his maker calling out to him? He didn’t know, all he could see was that ---- infernal blue.
                                  The End