by Nels Griffin

Created on: July 26, 2009

Chord of Kin

It has puzzled me over the years how in my mind sounds become associated with or convey feelings often more readily than the images they accompany. Maybe my perception formulates concepts differently than most, maybe I have better audition; possibly my visual attention is deficient. Regardless, my memory wades in whispers and whines, in crashes and cries; I reminisce in not sights but sounds of my past.

A few verses of the songs in my mind are the types that make my face wrinkle like fingers that have been in a pool just too long. Sounds that I felt as much as heard. Sounds that have evoked pity, oohs and aahs, and far too often muffled laughter. An anecdote that still brings my sparse blond hairs to attention was orchestrated by my younger brother Alik. On one cold November morning I was provided with a sound association that will be with me until I have reached my final stanza.

It seems feeding time was the most Darwinian of struggles in our home, and I, being the oldest, was usually the fittest. In a paired arrangement my brothers and I would feed facing each other almost nose to nose, battling for every precious inch of bar top real-estate. Hunched over our guarded bowls of O's like an impassioned quartet we ate alone yet together. My siblings, Leif, Alik, and Olin took there positions at the bar in a fairly arbitrary fashion, but I had my spot. The inside coroner nearest the front door was where I sat, and I ate, this was known. On one particular morning though Alik had decided to challenge my right as eldest son.

Six years my younger and barely two thirds my size, Alik was the red headed cymbalist of the family. Easy to erupt, resilient to punishment, and possessing of a will beyond an eight year old, instigating him was akin too tuning a guitar up to open G. As I awoke that morning and stumbled from my room, it was clear the Rooster, as we called him, was perched on my stool. This incited no emotion in me, and I felt it of no immediate consequence. As the older brother I simply sauntered up to him and flung him from my stool, spoon still in mouth. A trail of milk and saliva followed him in a long arc to the ground, and I assumed my spot. It was early and I had to catch the bus soon; I had little time for his antics. Expressionless I moved aside his half eaten bowl of Crispies, cleared some sleepy from my eyes, and lazily sorted through the cereals already pulled and arranged on the bar for our choosing. I failed to notice Alik, after clawing

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>