to resist. For years the thought that shadowed
me was that with a properly timed phone call
I might have saved him. on the day of his
death, I called and spoke to our mother to let
her know I was in new York safely. She said
she’d spoken to Dan earlier in the day, and he
confessed that his girlfriend, the older married
woman, had broken up with him. She said I
ought to give him a call; it might cheer him up
to hear from me. I told her I’d call him when
everything settled down for me in new York,
when I felt more at home. After I hung up the
phone I put it out of my mind and thought instead of my starting work the next day. When
the phone rang again, it was my father.
The proximity of these phone calls haunt-
ed me. I couldn’t help but think that if I’d just
called him that night, like my mother sug-
gested, I might have prevented his death by
speaking a few simple words to him over the
telephone like a decent brother. But then I’d
never thought of myself as my brother’s keeper
while he was alive. he was tough and reticent,
self-assured and seemingly unflappable. he
didn’t need me looking out for him. he could
look out for himself.
