Brothers

Nativity

It was 1922, the fourth of July, and Alfred F. Jones, an American representative, was running past people while making his way through Brooklyn, New York. It was an important occasion, almost as much as his own birthday to say the least. Well…it was his birthday. Driving was pointless. Running was faster due to the lack of driving space. The crowded and congested streets continued to play their obnoxious cacophony of a symphony of shouts and cars honking, only to flare up more when Alfred ran in front of them, cutting them off or shooting right past them, making them drop a thing or two due to the sudden surprise.

“Damn it, I’m gonna be late,” he grumbled, almost finished with tying his tie around his neck. His fingers fumbled about as he ran, tying the cloth into a perfect bow. His irises dilated for a split second before he dropped down to the ground in his suit, barely dodging a pair of movers carrying a sofa into the back of a truck. He felt the light brown hairs at the apex of his head brush ever so lightly against the wooden board underneath the piece of furniture. His eyes glanced upwards for a second before he leaped forward, taking off in full sprint once more in his now well worn-in leather shoes.

The high noon sun that lit up the sky above him seemed to taunt him as his eyes burned from the glare of his glasses. Alfred attempted to block out the sun somewhat with his hand, still running and now panting heavily.

He kept running along E. 34th street.

210…211…212…Wait a minute..!

He ran right past the apartment complex, 212. The leather soles skidding to a stop on the pavement. His body pivoted as he tried to turn himself around…only, he couldn’t stop right away as he hoped. With his body leaning back as much as it was, it was only natural to the laws of gravity that he would go tumbling back and land flat on his butt. But hey, this is Alfred F. Jones we’re talking about! He didn’t land on his arse, but...it was a close call.

Flailing his arms like he was trying to fly while shouting, scared out of his mind at that moment, Alfred tried as hard as humanly possible to stay balanced on his leather clad feet…with not too much success. He was rocking back and forth, imitating a rocking horse almost. He then puffed his cheeks and furrowed his eyebrows, leaning forward and then planting one foot completely on the concrete ground.

At that moment, one could say he was imitating a figure skater, the way his arms and leg were up in the air. Sighing heavily, Alfred slowly lowered his limbs and relaxed his muscles, standing upright while buttoning up his suit jacket.

“Phew, that was a close one there!” he noted. His happy eyes then looked up and scaled the building, resting on one of the windows in the 6th row. “Hope I didn’t miss it.” And with that, Alfred started off again, darting up the steps and then jerking the door open to step inside the apartment complex.

~*~

A baby’s wails could be heard. A dirty blonde woman with happy and tired eyes held her baby while lying in bed, smiling down at the little bundle of joy that was wrapped in a small washcloth. Alfred rushed to the doorway, almost missing it and once again skidding to a stop with his hand on the wooden doorframe for support, panting heavily and hunched over with one blue eye more open than the other and his other hand on his dark brown pant leg.

She looked up, her smile fading lightly when she saw him.

“Mr. Jones?”

Alfred straightened up, now in control of his breathing. A big smile now plastered his face and his eyes gleamed. He nodded.

“Mrs. Rogers?”

She nodded, staring at Alfred for a moment before looking down at her newborn child, rocking the bundle back and forth lightly. After a few seconds, the baby stopped crying. Alfred stared from the doorway for a moment, completely awed. He watched as she shushed the baby lightly, a bright smile still on her face. The doctor, who was by the window with his leather bag on a wooden table stood as he packed the last of his equipment away into the baggage. The semi-bald man took the stethoscope from around his neck and slowly and gently placed it in his bag. He then snapped the bag shut before grabbing the leather handle and picking up his round had from the wooden surface.