Decades After Foster Care, I Found My Long-Lost Brother
“If I’d stayed, I could have protected him. That’s what I believed. Maybe he believed that, too.”
I run in a circle in a wooded place. Run with the others, yoked together, lumbering in darkness, moving faster and faster, circling, stumbling, and driven, flying around and around in an endless loop. A monster slithers alongside, chasing us. Body of a snake with the head of a bear, roaring and raging with remorse and loss, remembrance and longing and fear—sheer animal terror.
I move faster. Gallop away. Leave the circle behind; abandon my spot, afraid the ancient animal after us will get me, bite me, and I’ll fall down, and forget, and the circle will dissolve forever and ever.
I only want to know if you’re happy and well.
Let’s meet at noon for coffee and go from there.
I’m here in the corner. Alone.
Here I am, give me money, I need a new transmission, more gas, a co-signature on my lease
thank you for caring what happened to me.
I love you, I’m so glad I found you, take care of yourself
No, I haven’t found him yet.
We know you haveTell him to get in touch with uswe know him, we R his real sisters, we never left.
I don’t know what U R talking about. I haven’t found him yet
Enter your email address to receive notifications for author Chris J. Rice
You have been added to the notification list for author Chris J. Rice
More in this series
“My parents had a shared language I didn’t understand, messes I couldn’t always be there to tidy.”
Before I visited the Partition Museum, I had a sense that all the years of self-erasure could be undone if I just heard, watched, read enough. Now I’m beginning to rethink that strategy.