All the colours of the Universe [ENG version]

3

Will shuffled through the old neighborhood cemetery. The trees all around were withered with the cold season and the ground was one big carpet of dry leaves. He kicked them, tormenting them with the toes of his boots. He remembered when, as a child, his father would hold him close and then throw him into one of those soft piles. At the time that was the innocent park of his childhood, now turned into a cemetery. And who would have thought that that would have been the last eternal beach of many, including his parents?

He dropped down in front of the only tombstone whose names were associated with familiar faces. Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like if he hadn't remembered them. Less painful, definitely. How can you mourn a stranger? But those moments from the past were in his mind, indelible, and tortured him to the breaking point.

Luckily Michael was there. His brother was the strength he needed not to give up.

Will kissed his fingertips and stroked the stone stuck in the ground, then placed the bunch of tulips at his feet. He would have longed for the light-heartedness of the flower girl and her friend. He had seen them through the window, just before entering the shop. They were laughing heartily and, when he entered, they stopped a little embarrassed. Will almost felt jealous of them. For just one second, he wanted to enjoy life without the hassle of problems and responsibilities, too.

«Hello Mom. Hi Dad» he whispered. «How's it going? We manage. I'm picking up Michael at the hospital this afternoon. Don't worry, routine checkups. I'm taking care of him.» He paused. A pain gripped his chest, preventing him from breathing. Who was he kidding? «I miss you. We miss you. Michael keeps asking me about you and what you would have done in this or that situation. He doesn't remember much about you, but asking questions like this helps him to feel you closer. Do you remember, Mom, when Michael was in the cradle and he pointed to that sticky star attached to the ceiling? He has a real obsession with space. He's so smart. When he's better, I'll bring him here. If only you could see... If only...» His voice trailed off in his throat. If he had continued further, he would have burst into tears. Again. And he couldn't manage it. «I love you.»

He closed his eyes and knelt in front of the tombstone for an indefinite time. Then he got up and walked to work.

The car repair shop was located a short distance from the cemetery. He had never been a motor enthusiast and certainly, with the studies he was trying to carry on, he aimed for something completely different in his life. However, when you have a dependent brother, bills to pay and insurance that covers only part of the medical expenses, work becomes a need. You can't be picky or say no to anyone who offers to lend a hand. Fortunately, aunt Sarah, their mother's sister, had offered to help pay for Michael's care and education. Will didn't know how to return the favor; if he had thanked her every hour, every day of his life, it wouldn't have been enough.

They had lived with their aunt and uncle for several years but, as soon as they came of age, Will had decided to come back to his parents' apartment and not burden them with food and lodging. Sarah had insisted to exhaustion that her house was also Will and Michael's, but it had seemed the right thing to do to Will.

His father had been a regular customer at the car repair's where he was going. It was owned by an old friend of his, Matt, who hadn't hesitated to offer Will a job when he needed it. It also guaranteed him great flexibility with his schedule, so that he could continue to attend classes at university. He had a lot of studying left behind, but Will made sure to spend at least half a day in the shop, Monday through Friday.

As usual, his daily routine was: smearing himself with oil up to his elbows, taking a very quick shower and running to the faculty at the end of his shift. But his greatest concern remained Michael's health. He wouldn't stop holding his breath until Martha gave him the final verdict.