What If?

What If? Part One

Martin Kratt was dying.

He leaned heavily against the doorframe of the doctor's office. The plan he had in mind for twenty-five years was going up in smoke. He felt momentary shame that the first person he thought of was not his wife or one of his children. It was Chris.

Martin went to his office at the animation studios. He sat down in front of his desktop computer and opened the Word document with his latest Wild Kratts script. He had just finished it yesterday. 

His hand moved over the DELETE key and hesitated. Martin pressed it. He stared at the blank page for a full minute, then began to type. He typed for a long time with no break. When he was done, he emailed it to Chris, and sat back and waited.

About fifteen minutes later, the door to Martin's office burst open. There stood his younger bro, sweaty, with his chest heaving, having reversed direction during his morning run.

Chris held his cell phone. He read aloud from the script Martin had just emailed.

 "Exterior of Tortuga on a stormy day. Pan to inside where Martin has Chris in a corner. '

Martin: 'Bro, I have some bad news.' 

 Chris: 'What, did Jimmy lose the keys again? We had another set made, remember?' 

 Martin:'No, I'm not kidding.'

'Chris: You're always kidding. That's what you do.' 

 Single shot of Martin's worried face. 

'Chris: Oh, you're not kidding. Okay, don't worry. Is it Zach? Did he get the osprey pole down? We can get our power disks from Aviva and – ' 

 Martin puts his hand on Chris' mouth. Chris stops talking. 

Martin takes Chris' hand on puts it on his own heart. Martin: 'It's broken.' "

Chris put down his phone. "We can get a second opinion."

Martin shook his head. "This was my fifth. It's not treatable.

"I say bullshit. You are not leaving your family. You are not leaving - " Chris stopped. Martin smiled to himself. Even now, Chris still couldn't say it: Leaving me.

Even though Martin had gained weight, and mostly abandoned the extremely active lifestyle that he and his brother adopted in their creature-adventuring heyday, Chris had never put his older brother down or made him feel bad. On one instance, after it took four crew members to extricate him from his wetsuit, Martin found his wetsuit had mysteriously gone up in size the next day. When he went back for thirds at family barbecues, Chris never mirrored the disapproving looks from other loved ones who, when the party was over, loudly claimed to have the older brother's "best interests" at heart.

Martin said, "Go home, little bro. I know you have things to do. I will be here when you get back. Then we can talk about it."

Chris narrowed his eyes in shrewd perception. "You haven't told Laura, have you."

"No. And don't say anything. To anyone."

"Okay," The brunette's voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and left.

Alone, Martin allowed his mind to roam to a place it hadn't roamed in years. It was when Chris finally finished college and they traveled in Madagascar, at last. Their first creature adventure.  The island was their home for months as they explored the wildlife of the coast, of the rainforest and of the plateaus. When a high-class debutante was flirting with Chris, she could not understand his neutrality. Neither could Martin.  Here this literal princess was throwing herself at Chris but he wasn't going for it.

When they were backpacking, Martin brought the princess up. Chris smiled that rouge-ish grin that melted Martin's butter every time. 

 "I don't want to complicate things right now. Everything is pretty much perfect," said Chris. 

Martin couldn't agree more.

But things did get complicated, one night when they were invited by some friendly villagers for a ceremony celebrating the outdooring of a newborn baby for the first time. The Kratts never thought so many different kinds of alcohol could be produced in this one modest village. But they were too polite to refuse the palm wine, the coconut wine and every other fermented concoction pressed upon them.

They found a campsite out of range of the village. It was perfect. The full moon cast a silver light on the cozy nook of moss-covered fallen trees. Night creatures chittered and hooted softly. The adventurers yanked out their sleeping bags, not bothering to even unzip them (setting up a tent be damned). Their sleeping bags made a cushion upon which the tired brothers collapsed.

Martin sat up. "Here. Lemme get these offa ya." He tugged in vain at his little bro's boots. When he tumbled over backwards from the effort, the men collapsed into a fit of giggles. Next, they began an silent but earnest effort to get each other's clothes off.

Chris unbuttoned Martin's shirt at the same time Martin reciprocated the favor. They stopped laughing as their fingers traced the other's chest. Their fingers left trails of goose pimples. Their breathing warmed up and deepened.  Chris' hand rested on his big brother's heart. 

Next thing Martin knew, Chris was pressing against his body, kissing him fervently, crushing his lips.  A heat started at the base of Martin's stomach and  unspooled downward to his loins.   Nothing Martin had experienced before had ever felt so good. 

Martin did the natural thing, there in the jungle of Madagascar, which was to return the ardour four-fold. He grabbed the nape of Chris' neck (just in case Chris changed his mind) like a lion grabs a lioness during mating. He could not believe how perfectly Chris fit in his arms, against his naked body. He could not believe how his little brother returned his kisses with such devotion, or how both their bodies trembled as if freezing, despite the very warm summer night. Like lions, they mated for hours, relishing the heavy breathing, the moaning and the involuntary gasps and shudders that came with sexual release, of which they took their fill.

The next morning they packed up the campsite slowly, not making eye contact or speaking. Martin was stunned. What the hell had happened last night? A feeling of shame came over him. He had taken advantage of Chris when he was drunk. 

They hiked down the trail, saying their goodbyes to the villagers. They walked the trail, Chris ahead of Martin. Was he walking funny or was it Martin's imagination? 

The time passed when they should have taken a break, but Chris kept going. The time passed for a second break. He wants to out-walk me?  thought Martin. Not going to happen. They kept going until Chris tripped on a root.  Before he hit the ground, Martin had him in his arms.

"Was it a dream?" asked Chris.

"I ... I'm not sure what happened last night, but it won't happen again. I should have known you can't handle that much liquor.  "

"You mean it really happened. We really ... " 

"Forgive me. Chris, will you? Please forgive me and let's just go back to the way things were before.  Please." Martin was starting to cry.

"Put me down," said Chris.

"Of course," said Martin softly. He set Chris down on his feet.

Chris shocked Martin by not running away, by standing in front of him, taking Martin's hand and holding it. Next Chris ran his index finger over and around Martin's fingers, lingering in the soft v's of flesh between all the fingers.  Eyes still closed, Chris then brushed his forehead and his lips across Martin's palm. 

Finally he drew Martin down to him for a long, shaking, gentle kiss. 

TO BE CONTINUED