The Sweet Boys
by Dave Swan
Tommy knew he had to be super quiet. Using both hands, he gingerly turned the knob, then pushed the door open just far enough to squeeze through. His short arms tensed, and his heart beat fast as he shut the door and stepped into Ethan’s room.
Everything was like his brother left it: the soccer posters, the keyboard, the pile of clothes, the papers spilling over the desk. Though Mom and Dad had warned Tommy to keep out, he missed Ethan so much that he had to go in sometimes, thinking about all the fun they had, trying to wish him back home.
Everything was like his brother left it: the soccer posters, the keyboard, the pile of clothes, the papers spilling over the desk. Though Mom and Dad had warned Tommy to keep out, he missed Ethan so much that he had to go in sometimes, thinking about all the fun they had, trying to wish him back home.
Before Ethan went away, he’d been shutting himself up in there for hours, which wasn’t like him at all. He was a cool guy, the fastest player on the high school soccer team and the class vice-president. The best thing was that he treated Tommy like a buddy even though he was sixteen and Tommy was only eight. But lately he’d been ignoring the whole family, staring into space at dinner and grunting if anyone tried to talk to him.
Mom and Dad hadn’t been acting like themselves either. Tommy was wide awake in bed the night of that awful argument downstairs, everybody yelling at once, followed by something smashing and Mom crying. Her eyes were still red in the morning when she explained Ethan would be going to boarding school.
That didn’t make sense. “Why?”
“It’s the best place—I mean school. It’s a better school for Ethan right now.”
“But I thought he had all A’s on his report card.”
Mom sighed. “Tommy, you have to trust me even if this is hard to understand, okay?” He said okay but wasn’t sure he believed it, especially since Mom didn’t sound like she did.
It was cold and crummy outside when Ethan told him to be a “good dude” before climbing unhappily into Dad’s car. Mom held Tommy tight as they pulled out of the garage into the rain, her other arm around his sister Molly, who didn’t look happy either. As he walked through the living room afterward, he noticed Mom’s grandmother’s vase was gone from the mantel.
Ethan had only called home once, the four of them leaning over Dad’s phone on the table as though that would bring him closer. He said he had a nice room and liked the other kids, but he struggled with his words and didn’t mention his teachers or classes. No one said anything about why he had to change schools in April, with the term almost over.
Mom and Dad hadn’t been acting like themselves either. Tommy was wide awake in bed the night of that awful argument downstairs, everybody yelling at once, followed by something smashing and Mom crying. Her eyes were still red in the morning when she explained Ethan would be going to boarding school.
That didn’t make sense. “Why?”
“It’s the best place—I mean school. It’s a better school for Ethan right now.”
“But I thought he had all A’s on his report card.”
Mom sighed. “Tommy, you have to trust me even if this is hard to understand, okay?” He said okay but wasn’t sure he believed it, especially since Mom didn’t sound like she did.
It was cold and crummy outside when Ethan told him to be a “good dude” before climbing unhappily into Dad’s car. Mom held Tommy tight as they pulled out of the garage into the rain, her other arm around his sister Molly, who didn’t look happy either. As he walked through the living room afterward, he noticed Mom’s grandmother’s vase was gone from the mantel.
Ethan had only called home once, the four of them leaning over Dad’s phone on the table as though that would bring him closer. He said he had a nice room and liked the other kids, but he struggled with his words and didn’t mention his teachers or classes. No one said anything about why he had to change schools in April, with the term almost over.
One afternoon while Mom worked in her office and Dad cut the grass, Tommy opened the big spiral-bound notebook in Ethan’s desk. He couldn’t make sense of the writing, the words and sentences crammed together in chunks and too small to read. There were drawings too, women with no clothes on, lizard people, and all kinds of weird shapes. He didn’t know what it meant, but he recognized the one that made everybody so mad when it got sprayed on a wall at Ethan’s old school: [image of a swastika]
That night Tommy sat up in bed, groggy and confused. He’d seen his brother, wearing his soccer gear and carrying the notebook, and had cried, “Ethan! Ethan!” as he disappeared down the hall. “You had a bad dream,” Mom said softly when he told her. “It happens. You’ve probably had them before.”
“It was really real,” Tommy insisted. “He was wearing his uniform and everything.” Looking down into his cereal, he added, “I don’t know why he didn’t answer me.”
“I know it’s tough,” Mom said, slipping her arm around his shoulders. “I feel the same way. Don’t worry, he’ll be back.”
“But when?”
“I don’t know, honey. They do things differently at this school.”
An idea popped into Tommy’s head. “Can I go there too?”
Mom looked startled. “No, you can’t. Hurry and get your backpack or you’ll be late yourself.”
That afternoon when Tommy tried to do homework, all he could manage was to aimlessly turn pages in his English book. Thinking a snack might help, he headed down to the kitchen, then froze a few feet from the door when he heard Mom say, “…having these vivid dreams about him. He even asked if he could go to Ethan’s school.”
“You didn’t tell him what it really is, did you?” Dad asked, sounding worried.
“Of course not. But I’m afraid the dreams might be the beginning of something worse.”
“He misses his brother,” Dad replied, using his calm voice. “You know how close they are. He’s fine.”
“That’s what the doctor said about Ethan,” Mom snapped. Tommy couldn’t believe his ears; his mother, who never said bad words, had put a really bad one between “the” and “doctor.”
“He’s much too young,” Dad said. Then he used a big word Tommy didn’t know and said it “never starts before the teens.”
“I’m terrified, Steven,” Mom said. “He’s a sweet boy. Like Ethan used to be, remember?” Her voice breaking, she added, “I almost can’t remember.”
That night Tommy sat up in bed, groggy and confused. He’d seen his brother, wearing his soccer gear and carrying the notebook, and had cried, “Ethan! Ethan!” as he disappeared down the hall. “You had a bad dream,” Mom said softly when he told her. “It happens. You’ve probably had them before.”
“It was really real,” Tommy insisted. “He was wearing his uniform and everything.” Looking down into his cereal, he added, “I don’t know why he didn’t answer me.”
“I know it’s tough,” Mom said, slipping her arm around his shoulders. “I feel the same way. Don’t worry, he’ll be back.”
“But when?”
“I don’t know, honey. They do things differently at this school.”
An idea popped into Tommy’s head. “Can I go there too?”
Mom looked startled. “No, you can’t. Hurry and get your backpack or you’ll be late yourself.”
That afternoon when Tommy tried to do homework, all he could manage was to aimlessly turn pages in his English book. Thinking a snack might help, he headed down to the kitchen, then froze a few feet from the door when he heard Mom say, “…having these vivid dreams about him. He even asked if he could go to Ethan’s school.”
“You didn’t tell him what it really is, did you?” Dad asked, sounding worried.
“Of course not. But I’m afraid the dreams might be the beginning of something worse.”
“He misses his brother,” Dad replied, using his calm voice. “You know how close they are. He’s fine.”
“That’s what the doctor said about Ethan,” Mom snapped. Tommy couldn’t believe his ears; his mother, who never said bad words, had put a really bad one between “the” and “doctor.”
“He’s much too young,” Dad said. Then he used a big word Tommy didn’t know and said it “never starts before the teens.”
“I’m terrified, Steven,” Mom said. “He’s a sweet boy. Like Ethan used to be, remember?” Her voice breaking, she added, “I almost can’t remember.”
Now Tommy was scared, too. He had to talk to somebody, and the only other person around was Molly, who was in eighth grade and like Ethan, was his friend. “Hey, little man,” she said when he walked into her room. “What’s going on?”
“What’s, um, skizzy – skitz-a-frenna?”
Molly quickly shut her door and sat him down on the bed. “Where did you hear that?”
“Mom and Dad were talking.”
She took his hand. “Tommy, I’m not supposed to say anything about this. You can’t tell them you know, okay?” He nodded and she wrote out the word: s-c-h-i-z-o-p-h-r-e-n-i-a. “It’s a disease like the flu, except it hurts people’s minds. It makes them see things that aren’t real and do bad things sometimes.”
“What did Ethan do?”
“He wasn’t nice to Mom and Dad. You didn’t know because they wouldn’t talk to him about it unless you were asleep.”
That explained why Mom had gotten so strict about his bedtime. “Was he not nice to you?”
Molly seemed to be deciding whether to answer. “He tried to—to do something wrong. I wouldn’t let him, and he twisted my arm really hard. That’s one reason they sent him to the new school.”
“What did the fucking doctor tell them?”
She turned white. “Did Dad say that, too?”
“No, Mom did.”
“Oh, my God.” Molly giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth. Serious again, she said, “He’s going to be okay. Really,” and put her arms around him. “You can always come to me.” That made him feel better, but it still hurt to think Mom and Dad were keeping secrets. Didn’t they know he loved Ethan as much as they did?
“What’s, um, skizzy – skitz-a-frenna?”
Molly quickly shut her door and sat him down on the bed. “Where did you hear that?”
“Mom and Dad were talking.”
She took his hand. “Tommy, I’m not supposed to say anything about this. You can’t tell them you know, okay?” He nodded and she wrote out the word: s-c-h-i-z-o-p-h-r-e-n-i-a. “It’s a disease like the flu, except it hurts people’s minds. It makes them see things that aren’t real and do bad things sometimes.”
“What did Ethan do?”
“He wasn’t nice to Mom and Dad. You didn’t know because they wouldn’t talk to him about it unless you were asleep.”
That explained why Mom had gotten so strict about his bedtime. “Was he not nice to you?”
Molly seemed to be deciding whether to answer. “He tried to—to do something wrong. I wouldn’t let him, and he twisted my arm really hard. That’s one reason they sent him to the new school.”
“What did the fucking doctor tell them?”
She turned white. “Did Dad say that, too?”
“No, Mom did.”
“Oh, my God.” Molly giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth. Serious again, she said, “He’s going to be okay. Really,” and put her arms around him. “You can always come to me.” That made him feel better, but it still hurt to think Mom and Dad were keeping secrets. Didn’t they know he loved Ethan as much as they did?
No matter what Tommy tried, he couldn’t enjoy it. When he played soccer, it just reminded him of how Ethan taught him the game and didn’t get mad like the gym teacher. He didn’t talk much at dinner, and neither did anyone else. They ate in a hurry and scattered to different rooms, as if they’d stopped being a family.
One evening Tommy went to bed wondering if he’d ever see Ethan again. He pretended to be asleep when Mom looked in on him, but after she left, he wished he’d said goodnight. He knew he’d been mean to her and didn’t understand why. Nothing was the same.
All of a sudden, Tommy couldn’t breathe. Something was stuck in his throat like a too-big bite of food. He woke up coughing hard, his breath coming back in a gulp as tires screeched in the driveway. Racing into the hall, he found Molly in her nightgown. “What’s happening?” he shouted.
“Mom and Dad had to go somewhere. It’s okay.”
But it was so late! A terrible thought hit him. “Is it Ethan? Is something wrong at the school?”
Molly put her hands on his shoulders. “It’s going to be fine,” she said in a shaky voice. “Go back to bed. Come on, I’ll get in with you.” After they’d climbed under the covers, she kissed the top of his head and whispered, “Good night, little man.” A few minutes later he heard her sniffling.
He closed his eyes but couldn’t sleep with his throat sore from coughing and his stomach hurting because he was so afraid. He needed to know if Ethan was all right and couldn’t wait for Mom and Dad.
After making sure Molly was asleep, Tommy pulled on pants and shirt over his pajamas. Outside, he started down the quiet, empty street, walking fast and not sure where he was going. He thought Ethan’s new school might be in the same direction as the old one, where the family watched his soccer games. But after he’d covered a few blocks and turned right, he found himself on a strange road, with big houses looming in the darkness.
In spite of the cool night air, Tommy was sweating and his legs felt like they were on fire. When he couldn’t take one more step, he sat down to rest under a tree, hoping the people in the house wouldn’t mind. He had to find Ethan, he had to, if only he wasn’t so tired…
Something nudged him, as gently as a breeze or a breath. He opened his eyes to a black, silent world, yet not a threatening one. Ethan was leaning against the tree, his arm outstretched. Though his dark blonde hair was cut short, and his face was thinner, his smile was as big as ever. Tommy blinked and his brother was still there. He rubbed his eyes. Still there. Ethan’s mouth formed words, and Tommy heard his voice in his head saying, don’t worry, bro, I’m cool.
A second later, Mom was kneeling on the grass and holding him, Dad and Molly beside her and tears running down her face. A red light flashed in Tommy’s eyes, and he got anxious again. “Am I in trouble?”
“No!” they all said together as Molly helped him up. ““But where were you going?” Dad asked.
“I was looking for Ethan.” Tommy said weakly. “He told me he’s okay.”
“You were dreaming again but he is all right,” Mom said. “We just came from the school.” Tommy started to say no, he was here, then felt too exhausted to talk and dozed off in the car while Mom and Dad spoke to the police officer.
One evening Tommy went to bed wondering if he’d ever see Ethan again. He pretended to be asleep when Mom looked in on him, but after she left, he wished he’d said goodnight. He knew he’d been mean to her and didn’t understand why. Nothing was the same.
All of a sudden, Tommy couldn’t breathe. Something was stuck in his throat like a too-big bite of food. He woke up coughing hard, his breath coming back in a gulp as tires screeched in the driveway. Racing into the hall, he found Molly in her nightgown. “What’s happening?” he shouted.
“Mom and Dad had to go somewhere. It’s okay.”
But it was so late! A terrible thought hit him. “Is it Ethan? Is something wrong at the school?”
Molly put her hands on his shoulders. “It’s going to be fine,” she said in a shaky voice. “Go back to bed. Come on, I’ll get in with you.” After they’d climbed under the covers, she kissed the top of his head and whispered, “Good night, little man.” A few minutes later he heard her sniffling.
He closed his eyes but couldn’t sleep with his throat sore from coughing and his stomach hurting because he was so afraid. He needed to know if Ethan was all right and couldn’t wait for Mom and Dad.
After making sure Molly was asleep, Tommy pulled on pants and shirt over his pajamas. Outside, he started down the quiet, empty street, walking fast and not sure where he was going. He thought Ethan’s new school might be in the same direction as the old one, where the family watched his soccer games. But after he’d covered a few blocks and turned right, he found himself on a strange road, with big houses looming in the darkness.
In spite of the cool night air, Tommy was sweating and his legs felt like they were on fire. When he couldn’t take one more step, he sat down to rest under a tree, hoping the people in the house wouldn’t mind. He had to find Ethan, he had to, if only he wasn’t so tired…
Something nudged him, as gently as a breeze or a breath. He opened his eyes to a black, silent world, yet not a threatening one. Ethan was leaning against the tree, his arm outstretched. Though his dark blonde hair was cut short, and his face was thinner, his smile was as big as ever. Tommy blinked and his brother was still there. He rubbed his eyes. Still there. Ethan’s mouth formed words, and Tommy heard his voice in his head saying, don’t worry, bro, I’m cool.
A second later, Mom was kneeling on the grass and holding him, Dad and Molly beside her and tears running down her face. A red light flashed in Tommy’s eyes, and he got anxious again. “Am I in trouble?”
“No!” they all said together as Molly helped him up. ““But where were you going?” Dad asked.
“I was looking for Ethan.” Tommy said weakly. “He told me he’s okay.”
“You were dreaming again but he is all right,” Mom said. “We just came from the school.” Tommy started to say no, he was here, then felt too exhausted to talk and dozed off in the car while Mom and Dad spoke to the police officer.
A few evenings later, Mom laid a piece of paper on Tommy’s desk. “This is for you,” she said, “from Ethan,” and gave him a long hug, gently stroking his hair. His eyes opened wide as he read:
Hey, dude. Mom and Dad and I decided we should tell you some things. I’m not in a new school. It’s a hospital for kids who have problems with their brains.
You know when you get mad and want to smash something? I felt like that all the time. Either that or I was so zoned out I couldn’t move. It’s not my fault or anybody’s. But I have to stay here a while.
I’m really sorry about the other night. What happened was I did something stupid with my pills and got sick. I was trying to hurt myself, but I just hurt Mom and Dad and especially you. I’ll never do that again.
I know you don’t get it. But until I come home, keep practicing your kicks and don’t run off anymore, you little doofus! :) Love, Ethan.
Hey, dude. Mom and Dad and I decided we should tell you some things. I’m not in a new school. It’s a hospital for kids who have problems with their brains.
You know when you get mad and want to smash something? I felt like that all the time. Either that or I was so zoned out I couldn’t move. It’s not my fault or anybody’s. But I have to stay here a while.
I’m really sorry about the other night. What happened was I did something stupid with my pills and got sick. I was trying to hurt myself, but I just hurt Mom and Dad and especially you. I’ll never do that again.
I know you don’t get it. But until I come home, keep practicing your kicks and don’t run off anymore, you little doofus! :) Love, Ethan.
Under a bright September sun, Tommy tore across the grass, leaving defenders trailing him helplessly like Ethan did. The goalie on the other U10 team looked panicked as he lined up his shot and drilled it right into the corner of the net. The stands erupted, one voice rising above the others, yelling, “Whoo-hoo! Yeah, buddy! YEAH!” The voice was his brother’s, loud and strong and no dream.
Dave Swan’s work last appeared in The Raven Review in July 2024. His stories have also been published by Litro Magazine, Adelaide Literary Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, and elsewhere. A former journalist and a lifelong writer, he’s a member of the Atlanta Writers Club and helps manage their social media.