Fall of Hope (Book 1): Real Heroes Don't Wear Capes (45 page)

Bobby
lingers in the doorway and whispers to himself, “I can do
this.” He repeats those four little words, but remains
motionless.

Come
on, come on, just do it. It isn't so bad.

“
No,
it's worse.”

Bobby's
shoe hovers over the threshold for a moment before it settles on the
carpet. Benji may not be here, but Bobby can feel his presence with a
choking clarity, and he cannot prevent the memories seeping out from
the thunder clouds.

“
Stick,”
Benji calls from beside the bed.

Bobby
catches the strong scent of aftershave and deodorant. He doesn't
understand why his brother douses himself in that stuff because he
cannot even breath. Bobby coughs as he stands in the doorway which
makes Benji laugh.

Mum
says he has a girlfriend and dad teases him with it, but impressing a
girl is silly, especially if they have to choke to death.

“
I
read the poems you left me.”

Bobby
had forgotten about the poems. Now, he cannot help the anxiety that
branches out beneath his skin, and he stops coughing.

“
What
did you think? They're crap, aren't they?”

“
Are
you serious? They're brilliant!”

He
has been writing poems since he turned six, maybe even younger. He
found he had a soft spot for poetry when his class learned simple
rhymes. Although he has never stuck to rhyming, he enjoyed the fun
rhymes the teacher read. Much of the time Bobby prefers to mix it up
for effect, but Mr Powers told him that's fine, “poems are not
always about rhymes.”

Poetry
is personal, so letting his family read his work is something that
makes him cringe, especially when it comes to Benji. If his hero
doesn't like them, then what is he to do?

A
soft blush creeps up his neck, but he cannot hold back a smile.

“
You
don't mind if I keep them, do you?”

“
You
want to keep them?” Bobby's eyes narrow as he questions his
brother's integrity.

“
Yeah,
I'll hang them up on here so I can read them every day.” He's
in good cheer as he points to the pin board where he sticks reminders
and important stuff. “Is that okay?”

Benji
puts a pin into the corners of the three sheets of paper. He even
pushes aside other notes and a photograph of his girlfriend to make
room, to Bobby's surprise.

“
Yeah,
I like them there, don't you?”

“
Look
good, but don't try to pass them off as yours to your new
girlfriend.”

Benji
bursts out laughing and nudges his shoulder. “Firstly, she's
not my girlfriend. Secondly, even if she were, she was in my English
class, so she'd never buy it.”

Still
beaming from ear to ear, Bobby notices the polo shirt Benji is
wearing. The green, yellow and black stripes look strange on him. The
colours pulsate within his eyes, beckoning Bobby to stare into them.

“
You
like this?”

Bobby
glances at Benji, tearing his eyes away from the top with effort. He
realises he must have been looking at it too long, judging by his
brother's furrowed eyebrows.

“
Yeah,
where'd you get it?”

Chewing
his bottom lip, Bobby's hazel eyes drift back to the material with
longing.

“
The
charity shop,” Benji replies with a chuckle.

“
What's
the hundred and three for?”

The
elusive number sits where the black collar hangs across the chest.

“
Not
sure. I'm not sure why I even brought it.”

“
Don't
you like it? You love those colours.”

“
Yeah
I know. It's okay, I suppose. It's nothing I'd usually pick out in a
shop, especially the charity shop of all places. I guess the colours
just drew me to it.”

Bobby's
smile goes crooked as he stares at his brother who has an amused
expression across his face. He tries to sum up what Benji means by
that, but it doesn't appear he has the answers.

“
You
can have it in a couple of years; it's way too big for you yet,
Stick.”

Bobby
heads towards the wardrobe without a second thought and opens it. All
Benji's clothes still hang, or remain folded at the bottom. Many
items of clothing he only wore once, or twice.

He
was always like that, Bobby muses.

He'd
always buys cheap clothes he knew I'd like because I'd have to wear
them when he outgrew them.

The
metal jangles on the pole as he fingers through the hangers in search
of the polo shirt. When he cannot find it, he bends to search below
to no avail.

Bobby
drops to his knees and pulls out the first drawer. Inside, he finds
the stripy polo shirt staring at him from the centre. Atop the number
sits a cheddar post-it note which must have lost its stickiness years
back. Bobby's name is wrote in his brother's handwriting in permanent
marker.

Taking
the note from the drawer, Bobby pulls the top out and places the
post-it back inside the white wood. It may be silly, but the thought
of scrunching up his brother's handwriting is devastating.

After
unfolding the shirt within his stretched hands, he swallows hard and
bows his head. For a moment, his head swims with lucid waves of
sorrow and knowledge. Had Benji, even if it was as subtle as a
subconscious tug, known he would die that night?

Did
he know he was giving his life for something important?

Bobby
drops the polo shirt on the bed and unbuttons Danny's blood
splattered shirt. He pulls the sky blue tie from his neck and tosses
them both on the bed. Slipping his brother's top on, he pulls the
collar up against his neck the way Benji wore it that day. Its soft
embrace can almost be mistaken as a cuddle from his older sibling if
he closes his eyes and goes along with it.

It
fits perfectly.

He
rushes back to the wardrobe to search the last drawer for a pair of
jeans that will fit. He's been in here far too long, any longer and
his emotions are sure to crumble.

Bobby
doesn't have to look far to find a pair of black
Levi's
with
straps. Like the shirt, they seem to have been set out for him. They
aren't his style; he prefers blue jeans with rugged wear at the knees
and cuffs. Yet, he cannot help admiring how well they will go with
the shirt, so he exchanges them for the scuffed and ripped suit
trousers.

Bobby
struggles to hook the metal fastenings onto the back of the waist
before he pulls the jeans up. Once he does, he tugs the straps over
the front. He feels ridiculous because the straps are tight against
his shoulders, but he wore them in his dream, so his gut tells him he
must keep them on.

Once
dressed in his brother's clothes, he searches the room for the real
reason he has come in here. After he searches the chest of drawers
where Benji kept more clothes, he heads to the side table. The first
is bare besides papers, pens and other stationary, so he moves around
the bed to the other.

He
used to dive over the bed to glance out the window, but doing it now
seems wrong, so he refrains.

He
finds the item he has come to collect in the side table. Just looking
at them brings back his dreams and bittersweet memories.

“
They
won't stop picking on me,” Bobby whispers as he sinks into the
foot of Benji's bed. “Why do they do it? Do I look funny, or
something?”

Benji
laughs as he takes a seat next to his little brother. The look in
Bobby's eyes makes it more amusing because he believes what he is
asking.

“
Funny?
You're funny, I'll give you that.”

“
I'm
serious, Benny. Is it because I'm small, wear your hand-me-downs, or
what?”

Benji
sighs, then grins wildly. “Well, you smell a little funky.”

Bobby
nudges his arm, which only tickles his brother further.

“
Listen,
Stick, most of the time bullies don't know why they bully.”

“
So
they shove my head down the toilet for unknown reasons?”

“
People
like that have bad lives. Maybe their home lives aren't what they
make out they are to other people. Maybe those things they pick on
you for are attributes they hate in themselves, or things they cannot
admit they like because they believe it'll make them unpopular.”

“
That's
stupid.”

“
Yes,
it is.”

Bobby
fidgets on the bed and plays with the sleeve of the jumper Benji gave
him last week. It covers his hands, and he has to keep folding both
sides up to his wrists.

“
So
how do I make them stop?”

“
Is
ignoring them not an option?”

“
No,”
Bobby sighs before throwing his hands to his knees. “I wish I
was invisible.”

The
weight from the bed releases at his side and he watches Benji with
interest as he speaks. “Do you remember the last time we went
to the fairground on the common and I found those goggles on that
Heroes stall?”

“
The
ones the owner said they didn't sell?”

“
Yeah,
they gave them me for free.”

Bobby
nods as Benji moves around the bed, pulls the drawer open and catches
the lamp that almost tumbles. Placing the lamp back, he rummages
inside over keys and other items, then pulls the item free.

“
Well,
you know what I discovered?”

Bobby
shakes his head. “No, what?”

“
They
were there for me to find, but more importantly, they make you
invisible.”