Felix and I had always been close, as close as brothers could be, eventhough he was 9 years older than me which meant he had a good 9 year worth of pampering from Mom and Dad before I came along. They called me "the surprise baby". As legends had it, they had a little too much wine that night after putting dear ole Felix to bed and viola! I came swimming into my mother's womb. Okay, maybe your parents having sex isn't exactly comfortable to think about. Shudder. 9 months and 10 days later, a healthy 8 pounds baby was born by the name Dominic. So hi, my name is Dominic.
There are a lot of things I can tell you about Felix, so many stories, so many anecdotes for you to picture how he was like in person, but to sum it all up, he was my brother and my best friend. I know that there aren't a lot of people who can say that about their siblings (the writer says hello), especially ones with an age gap of almost a decade but he was those things to me. I can't believe I'm referring to him in the past tense, maybe because I have not fully moved on from the past, the time when Felix is still Felix and not was.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
As I said, Felix is -excuse me- was a great brother. He had that protective vibe but he was fun. Lord, he was so much fun to be around. I can't tell you how many times we got scolded for playing hockey in the house when we were growing up, how many hockey pucks had broken a vase or a window. Those were mostly my fault because I was an incompetent boy with me stepping on the hem of my pants that were too big and too long for me, tripping every now and then. For the record, they were mostly Felix's pants and shirts that I wore because Mom and Dad couldn't be bothered to go shopping for new toddler's clothes after a whole decade of not doing so. Not that I minded though, because I liked wearing Felix's old clothes, I loved to think that someday I'd grow into them and one day I'd be as big and as good as him.
The first time we ever broke a vase, I was 6 and Felix was 15. Mom and Dad were out to celebrate their anniversary and Felix proposed for a game of hockey between just the two of us. So we rearranged some of the lighter furniture in the living room to create a big enough space for us to move around. He then went into his room to retrieve two hockey sticks and a puck (he was in our school hockey team) and we played. We didn't play by the rules, of course, because I hadn't had a single clue on how to play hockey. Not to mention the stick was taller than I was and I had a hard time holding it correctly, let alone swing. But we did have fun for the first 10 minutes and Felix kept saying how he always wanted a brother to play hockey in the house with and I was excited to hear that I was appreciated by my hero. Maybe I got a little too excited because I swung the stick clumsily enough and it hit the vase. The next thing we knew, it was on the floor in a few big pieces and I stared at it until I was crying, certainly afraid of being scolded.
Felix quickly crouched down next to me, levelling his eyes with mine. He had a growth spurt earlier that year and I figured out later that he hit puberty. That explained why his voice got deeper and lower and why he had those hideous zits on his face. He was ugly and I didn't wonder for one second why he didn't have girlfriend at that time. That was also probably why he spent a lot of time in his room with the door closed, *cough* studying *cough*.
Where was I? Oh yes, broken vase.
So, he crouched down to my level and coaxed me, trying to stop my crying by telling me he would fix it. "How?" I asked. "It's broken. Mom would know."
Before I got into a sobbing fit again, Felix gave me a sly smirk like he knew I was wrong. "Oh it is broken, but there's nothing some tapes and glue can't fix, brother mine. Why don't you go to Dad's office and bring those things here?"
I complied with his request after wiping the remaining tears from my face. I came back minutes later with all sorts of tapes and glues I could lay my hands on. Sellotapes, duct tapes, masking tapes, glue sticks, a bottle of white glue and a tube of super glue, all laid out in front of us and I set them on the floor. Felix ruffled my hair as his way of saying thank you. When I left the living room he had picked up the pieces and put them to one side and swept the smaller pieces of glass so I wouldn't step on them and hurt myself. He took the super glue and the masking tape, quickly making his move to salvage the vase. He poured the glue carefully and precisely onto the edges of one piece and linked it to another like a puzzle before wiping off the excess glue with a tissue he retrieved from the kitchen. He then put some tape over the crack to hold them in place while he worked with the other pieces. I watched him intently, amazed by his skills and when I reached out to help he swatted my hand away.
