Page 32 of For Flag's Sake
“Given your depths, you’ll probably need all three, no?” Malcolm suggests, plucking up a plain white letter opener and touching his finger to the pointed tip.
I am reminded that my brother is an intelligent being above all others and toss the three journals into my basket. “Pens!” I declare, striding to the shelves an aisle over. Here, I do not dally. I grab several gel pen packs containing a mixture of regular blues, sparkly blues, and glow in the dark blues. Highlighters follow, then pencils, just in case.
“Do you think I should get a special eraser?” I ask, eying the line of containers holding cute little rubber animals. “There’s an otter.”
Malcolm rests the blade of the letter opener against his lips as he peruses the pack of erasers I’m considering. At last he says, “Yes, absolutely. You might need this one, too.” He reaches, securing an eraser the size of his hand. “For big mistakes.”
“I don’t think Birch would take kindly to me using that on him,” I note dryly. Still, I toss it in the basket next to the otter before moving this trip to the sticker section.
“Oh my,” I whisper. “It’s like Maple heaven.” The rows are endless andpacked, everything from cartoons to florals lining every inch of available space.
“I don’t see any syrup stickers,” Malcolm says. “This is cute, though.” He offers me a stack of pancake stickers.
I take them. A pad of butter lays atop the pancakes, smothered in syrup. The butter has a face. A cute little face with a cute little smile.
“I want one of everything,” I decide. “Two, maybe.” I spin in a circle, eyeing the possibilities. “Do you think I could buy out the business? Maybe George could open a second warehouse for me…”
“The world is your oyster.” Malcolm’s attention drifts down toward a little white bird sticker.
I hum. “I shall take it by force, then,” I agree. “With enough money, it shouldn’t be too hard.”
He plucks the dove and holds it safely with the letter opener in his hand. “Nothing’s too hard with enough money, manipulation, and moral disregard.”
“Hear, hear,” I murmur, wandering away to examine a swath of blue among the hoard of stickers. “I’m going to need another basket.”
Down the aisle, Malcolm positions the handle of his letter opener at the wing of his dove sticker and has the bird swipe it like a sword. “Shnng, shnng.”
“Could you and your deadly dove get me another basket?” I call toward him. “Or a cart, if they have one?”
“Aye, aye.” The dove uses the letter opener to salute before Malcolm turns on his heel and heads up the aisle, toward the front of the store.
I pull out my phone while I wait and take a photo of the abundance around me. I send it to George with a “NEED,” and he replies instantly. “On it.”
George might just get a raise on top of his bonus.
Movement at the end of the row catches my eye, and I see that Malcolm has returned. Dramatically. His gait stutters, and he coughs pathetically, gripping his chest. “Ivy.” The letter opener sticks out from beneath his arm. “She got me.”
“Sad,” I comment. “Before I decide to save you, what have you left me in your will? Or does your spouse lay claim to all now?”
“It’s too late to save me.”
“Crisis averted, then! How wonderful. For a minute there, I thought I would be made to feel guilty about your death.”
He straightens up, retrieving the blade. “Perish the thought. You’re much too busy feeling other things right now to add something as trivial as guilt over my death to the mess.”
“That’s what I love about you,” I tell him. “So thoughtful. An excellent big brother. If you were to die, you would do it as you lived—with deep consideration for my needs.” I wipe a dry tear from my eye. “As you should. King behavior.”
“I think your reflection journal needs glitter.”
“As long as it’s blue.” I shrug.
“As a depiction of your great sorrow?”
“If that makes your eternal rest peaceful,” I allow. “You may believe what you like.”
He exhales the idea of a laugh. “Oh, Ivy, you know me better than that. The last thing I would ever want is peace.”
“No,” I disagree. “The last thing you would ever want is me to experience great sorrow, which is why I thought we were already speaking in the ridiculous. Were we not?”
