By Yocheved Friedman
When we had adjacent rooms, separated by hallway light, my brother and I played Go Fish after bed.
There were midnight puppet shows, whispers that weren’t really whispers, and eavesdropping on downstairs voices.
Back then, nighttime was the climax of childhood.
We heard men fishing on the moon and saw the stars in London that hid secret fairytales of pirates and little green boys.
When we grew into people that looked like our parents, my brother moved to school down in Florida.
I commuted on the 6 train uptown by myself, and he became a social smoker.
He called home because of obligations and because of girls and I waited for him to visit on the holidays.
When he came back, I’d pick him up at JFK and he would be wearing sunglasses and no coat in the middle of New York winter.
Some nights we whispered in our old adjacent rooms separated by hallway light.
Only, the man on the moon was gone and outside, childhood kites were caught aimlessly in dead trees.
One late night in January, he packed up his car with his roommate and drove back down to Florida.
I remember the night, how cold it was, out in my pajamas handing him the loose ends.
Heading upstairs in the crux of adulthood, never once looking back to see if the headlights had turned the corner.
Puppet shows are for babies, and the long moon that night showed no signs of second stars to secret worlds.
Tonight, in the heat of late September, I sleep in his room because it is cooler.
Or because I miss his shape folded into the bed, the silhouette of my childhood branded into the long moon.
I’m too busy for his phone calls, except on the weekends.
He calls because of obligations, and because someday, he’ll want to get married and have a family.
Sometimes, when he’s home, we drive to breakfast and act like two adults over coffee.
The climax of growing up in spite of yourself.
Nighttime for adults is about stealing as much sleep as you can.
Forget fishing poles on the moon, Neverland, midnight card games.
The quiet tug of kite strings quivering like tangible notes of time.
