The incandescent atmosphere blinded Will into a contradictory stupor of visual delight and dismay. He stood, luggage in hand, outside of a hotel, his eyes fixed on a chapel twenty yards away. He turned his back and walked inside, leaving behind a wedding ceremony taking place within perdition.
In his king suite off of the Strip, Will relaxed in front of a television with commentators making predictions about the upcoming program. It was a Sunday in mid-October. Will had spent the last few months on the road and this was the first football game he had the chance to watch all season. He stretched out in a computer chair with his feet propped up on the hotel bed. He moved the nightstand next to the chair to serve as a table—a half-empty six pack of Rebel IPA sat on top. Will removed the fourth bottle and pried the top off with his multi-tool. The smell of hops from the first bottle had tantalized his senses. The first swig from the fourth further compounded the perceived euphoric sensation. He was about to order some wings, when his cell phone rang.
“So Mark isn’t going to make it I guess,” Kody said.
“Serious?” Will said.
“Yeah, to my wedding. I just received his decline in the mail,” Kody said. “Fuck. Sorry to hear man.” Will said.
“I know I’m just a step-brother, but we grew up together. I haven’t seen him for years. It’s almost like he’s trying to kill off this side of the family.”
Will set the take-out menu down and stood up, scanning the room for his travel bag. He found it and withdrew a pack of American Spirit Cigarettes.
“I didn’t think that it would go this far. We shared so many good times during childhood. I thought he would set aside any adult grievances for this occasion,” Will said. “Sorry to hear that he’s bringing you into it now.”
“You think this is about what happened with dad?” Kody asked.
“It’s got to be. I don’t think that Mark ever forgave him for it. Since Mark’s marriage, they’ve only spoken a couple of times.”
“Pretty lousy that Dad being honest could wreck our whole history together,” Kody said.
“A few simple words changed the course of it.”
“You ever talk to Mark about it?”
“I’ve tried to bring it up, but he just skirts around the topic. Talks like there’s nothing wrong. It boggles my mind.”
“You think everything is okay with him?” Kody asked.
Will stepped outside of the hotel room and walked around the corner of the building, out of view of the chapel. He lit a cigarette.
“I think that he still has some maturing to do,” Will said.
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen him since his wedding five years ago.”
“He’s still the same, but it’s sad. He just turned thirty and while he’s got a decent job and a family now, he’s still the same.”
“How do you mean?” Kody asked.
The smoke burned Will’s windpipe and clogged his lungs. He exhaled.
“By his age, most people become aware of who they are, what they believe in. I think that he is still influenced by those around him too much,” Will said as he exhaled the foreign particles. “My sister-in-law doesn’t like our Dad, so Mark avoids him.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Also, the military is making its mark. Last Christmas Mark presented me with his extensive gun collection--with pride. He’s planning on teaching gun classes at the local NRA chapter.”
“He’s turning into one of those guys?” Kody said. “Yeah, but it’s not him. And it’s starting to show - he’s not happy. The last few times we’ve gotten together, which has been like once a year, they’ve been smorgasbords of drunken oblivion. Sadly, that’s the only bond left between us. During the last get-together, he drank too much and Catherine kicked him out of the bedroom. He passed out on a couch in the basement with a half-empty beer can in his hand, and woke up in a pool of piss.”
“Jesus.”
“You know, the more I think about it, the more it pisses me off,” Will added as he took another drag. He paused and exhaled, then continued. “Because frankly, I’m largely to blame. I haven’t been the best role model in his life. And to make up for this lack of guidance, I feel that he’s still playing the role of younger brother to any outside influence that passes by. I don’t think that he’s become fully conscious of his own needs and desires. I’m afraid he’s about to reach the breaking point,” Will said. “Maybe you should talk to him.”
Will placed the phone in his pocket. He withdrew another cigarette and struck a match. He dragged it down in four inhales. He paused, thinking deeply. Maybe I should call. No, I’ll just screw it up. Mark still talks to me a couple of times a year at least.
Will returned to the hotel room and glanced toward the television as he cracked open the last bottle. The game was tied at halftime. He drained the beer, grabbed his wallet, and then walked to the hotel lobby. A balding middle-aged man stood behind the desk. Traces of mascara surrounded the clerk’s eyes.
“Handle of Beam,” Will said.
“Crazy night ahead?” the hotel desk clerk asked, shadowed eyes open wide.
“Sure, something like that,” Will said as he handed over the cash.
“It could be crazier,” the clerk said with curled lips as he passed a business card across the counter.
“Uh. Thanks,” Will murmured as he pocketed the card.
Will returned to his suite and banged the bottle to rest on the nightstand. He propped his legs up onto the bed, grasped the bottle, and twisted the cap, releasing the toxic vapors within. Drinking straight from the bottle, the first swig burned his throat. The second less.
In the dark room, the second half of the game resumed. The more Will drank, the more his team floundered. Within the first four minutes the coach had wasted all three timeouts on challenges not worth pursuing. Key players were out due to injuries.
Will removed the card from his pocket the clerk had slipped him. Turning it under the glow of the television set he read, “What happens . . .” It was accompanied by a Photoshopped picture of a woman with fake DD breasts and an 800 number. Will then pulled the nightstand drawer open and removed a book left by the Gideons. He placed the card inside at Mark 10:9. Will took another swig from the bottle.
Will grabbed his phone and scrolled to his brother’s number, then he set the phone back down. He picked up the bottle and took a swig, then kept it in his lap. On the television, the opponent furthered the lead with ease.
At the two minute warning, Will turned off the television. He staggered across the dark room, parted the curtains, and watched another wedding party go through the motions. The bride’s smile revealed teeth whiter than her dress.
Will glanced at his phone.
