Cousin Shawn

There was no excuse.

Some people were nothing but venom. But we were all human, weren’t we? No matter how toxic or clean, we shared that simple truth.

I was poor from the start.

God may never forgive my sins, and they are plenty. I earned every bad day and every punishment I ever received. I was blind to blessings and saw them as bullets, even when they brought me moments of peace.

I was a devil, but at least… I wasn’t alone.

In the beginning, there was only me. For years, my mother and father tried desperately to have another baby, but I was the egg that hatched. They thought it was written in the stars that I would someday have siblings. Even as a child, I knew dreams, like every star in the sky, had to die someday. Regardless, their faith in one another, God, and miracles never diminished. They wouldn’t see their dream pass, and I perhaps learned what it meant to be jealous. How could I, or anyone else, have avoided envy? My parents were fixated on a person who didn’t exist?

Naturally, I lived in that deep green emotion, though it was nameless at the time.

In the end, my parents never conceived another natural-born child. However, just after I had turned seven years old, they finally brought a new life into our household. That life, the sibling I never asked for, was my cousin Shawn. He was a “miracle” bestowed upon my family. People often overlooked that his mother had to pass away before he came to us so unexpectedly. Shawn was a blessing? More like a burden, a leftover in my eye. Despite my view, Mother and Father cherished him like a warm peach pie on the coldest of nights.

I hated him more than I hated myself, and spirits only knew how grand an accomplishment that was.

Overnight, God had decided to make me share and confiscated half of my space. Sure, I was a resentful, angry, selfish shit of a person, but weren’t most children. I could have welcomed my cousin, would have too, but the expectation made it a war. They never asked if I wanted to share a room. They never asked if I wanted to share my clothes. I was expected to open my pockets and let him reach in. Of course, my jealousy remained. Had that green stone been lifted from my back, things might have been different. If they had only asked and given me the illusion of choice, I might have liked Shawn like everyone else.

Tragic, wasn’t it?

My cousin and I had more than blood in common. He was my age, my height, my color. In a dark room, Shawn’s voice could echo my own. We were twins in every way but blood. More importantly, we shared a unique fondness for trouble beyond our years. Was there any wonder how boys like us grew up to work for devils? Hit men and thieves. We were born to sin, weren’t we? Together, Shawn and I might have been a sight to put out God’s eye. But I was a gluttonous child.

It never helped that we differed in the mind, either. That perhaps kept us from reaching our potential as well. My cousin was never a bookworm, but had he adopted a broader vocabulary, I might have taken to him better. He often failed where I succeeded. From stealing cookies to taking coins out of the family register, Shawn couldn’t compete with me.

I didn’t have to work on a scheme to rid myself of cousin Shawn. He was already pulling stones from under his feet.

When we were 13, Father gave Shawn a warning that if he did one more thing out of line, he’d be sent to live with our less favorable grandmother. He was finally walking on eggshells like he should have been from the start. I expected him to make a mistake, so I encouraged him to take the final step.

I stole two hundred dollars from the register and tried to hide it under his bed. Sadly, my cousin was a light sleeper.

He got up, and I got angry. Our fight woke Father, and when he walked in on us punching the mud out of one another, he couldn’t say who had stolen the money for sure. I had never been caught, never been spanked, but the money was in my hand.

I might have taken my chance to throw Shawn to the coyotes, but to my surprise, he spoke up before I could.

He took the blame. He lied in my favor, and I let him. I was happy to see him burn. Needless to say, that was the last straw. That was the last time I saw my cousin Shawn for a long while. That was the first time I was almost caught, and the only thing that saved me was the kindness of a cousin I abandoned.

We were 14 when Shawn went away, but I had to admit, I came to think of him more after that day. He was the blessing I overlooked. But God was merciful where I could never be, and on my 17th birthday, Shawn had come home. Only time would tell if he were an angel loyal to his family or turned into something without allegiance.

We hadn’t seen each other in three years. Did he remember? Did my cousin remember who sent him away? We were older. Would he have held a grudge for so long, could he? As friends and family stood around singing Happy Birthday at the table, I heard his voice like the rest. All eyes were on me, but his felt threatening until I blew out the candles.

Who had invited my cousin back from hell?

“Cousin Shawn is here,” I said to my mother after the cake had been cut.

Everyone had dispersed from the kitchen to find their own private spots around the house. Rather than sampling the red velvet on my plate, I pestered Mother while she washed dishes.

“Your father and I meant to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I asked, but just then, as Mother might have answered, I found myself cornered.

“Shawn?” I said as he wrapped his arms around me in an unearned hug.

“Marcus, long time no see,” he said, letting me go.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d come down a little early for your birthday.”

What did he mean by early?

“Thanks,” I said.

We didn’t look the same anymore, but we were never the same in my eyes. His worn clothes and wild hair, coupled with the scars along his arms, told a story, much like my button-down and silver watch did for me.

“I wanted to say thank you for letting me in. I know when we were younger, you hated sharing your toys, but this time, I’ll let you have the top bunk,” he added, but all I could do was look at my mother.

When my eyes returned to the unwelcome guest, he had already started leaving the room.

“Mom, what is he doing here?”

It was happening again. Shawn was moving in.

After the party was over, I said goodbye to my guests. When they left, I noticed Shawn had started lugging his stuff from my dad’s truck up to the guest room, which was across the hall from my bedroom. Be it the same room, same floor, or same house, my cousin was too close for comfort

“Mind helping me with my stuff, cousin?” He asked when my watching grew too blatant to miss.

I followed him up the steps and down the hall to the right till he sat his load down. Standing in the doorway, I asked, “How long are you staying?”

He didn’t stop moving. After a breath, he went back out to grab the last of his things, and I was right behind him. Had a gun been in my pocket, I might have cut our story short when his attention wavered.

“Don’t know,” he answered.

We got to the truck, and he tossed me a bag, assuming I wanted to help.

“What happened to grandma?”

“She died,” he told me.

“What?!”

“Didn’t know I was coming?” he suggested while we walked back in.

“I didn’t.”

“Marcus,” Dad called for me just as Shawn and I were about to hit the stairs.

He and my Mother were in the living room, watching from a distance. I didn’t want to make them wait, so I gave Shawn his bag to carry up on his own. He walked off with a whistle, and I went to my parents in a huff.

“Grandma died?” I asked before either of them could say a word.

“There’s no use dancing around it. Your cousin is staying with us from now on,” Father explained.

“For how long?”

“As long as he needs,” He added.

“But,” I started until Mother told me, “We know the two of you mixed like oil and milk as children, but you’re older now. Shawn doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I can think of somewhere for him,” I mumbled.

I could hear him upstairs already moving things around, probably setting up for war.

“Marcus, you will be kind. Do you understand? This won’t be like before,” Father scolded me.

“Alright,” I said, but Mother only remarked, “He’s here now, and that’s all that matters.”