Walk a Mile with Me

By Tia Austin

When Jesse is born, his older brother Cal is six years old. From the very beginning, Cal knows that he will be a good brother to Jesse, that he will look out for him.
Cal also hopes that maybe having Jesse around will keep his parents from arguing—loudly—so often. But things don’t change for the better, and Cal’s feelings of needing to be there for Jesse to look after him grow stronger. This is especially true when they are left alone in the apartment, their mother expecting Cal, age 9, to look after Jesse, who is only three years old.
But Cal is determined to be the good brother he was told he would be when Jesse was born. Cal tries to do his best all through Jesse’s growing up years. When Cal becomes a Christian as a teenager, he tries his best to share his faith with Jesse, but he wants nothing to do with it.
The boys’ lives begin to go in separate directions as they deal with their feelings of emotional pain and abuse. Cal chooses a healthy life while Jesse follows a path that leads him farther and farther downhill—and farther emotionally from Cal, who he had looked up to his entire life.
Where will the separate paths lead Cal and Jesse? Walk with them as they travel the roads they have chosen to walk.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638443087

Book preview

cover.jpg

Walk a Mile with Me

Tia Austin

Copyright © 2022 by Tia Austin

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

True forgiveness

comes from the heart.

Unforgiveness doesn’t

hurt the other person—

It only hurts you.

Unforgiveness only keeps you

in a cage of your own making.

Forgiveness is there,

deep in your heart.

All you need to do is find it.

Prologue

Whenever Cal let his mind wander, his thoughts always turned to Jesse. Where was he now? How was he doing? What was he doing?

Having not seen him in the past two years was taking its toll on him. Cal could feel it in his stiff muscles at the back of his neck, and he found himself frequently checking the mirror for gray hairs brought on by worry.

He had tried calling the last number Jesse had given him, but it was no longer in service. He’d taken to checking Jesse’s social media, but he wasn’t posting anything.

Any lead he had, any contacts he could think of always came up empty. He had exhausted all of his resources, but he would never let himself give up on Jesse.

All he could do was hope and pray that his younger brother was still alive.

Chapter 1

Spring 1993

Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him.

—Psalm 127:3

That was the day Cal knew his life would never be the same. When Mom and Dad came home from the hospital, they were smiling. They had him sit on the couch, and they put his baby brother on his lap.

His name is Jesse, Mom said as Cal stared at the tiny red face.

He remembered the way people always talked about babies being cute. Jesse wasn’t very cute, but Cal didn’t care. He had a baby brother! This little baby would get bigger, and they would have fun together. Cal would teach him everything he knew—how to say his ABCs and not mix up the J and the K, how to ride a bike with only two wheels, how to look both ways before he crossed the street.

He instantly felt protective of Jesse.

I’m a big brother, Cal thought, watching the baby squirm in his yellow blanket. He felt protective and possessive. He’s my brother.

Mom and Dad looked so happy. Cal could see it. He could feel it.

Maybe now they wouldn’t argue so much.

Mom leaned over, smiling, looking at Cal and Jesse together. Her wavy hair hung long down around her face, tucked behind her ears. She was so pretty.

Do you like the baby? she asked.

Cal looked at Jesse again. Yes, he said simply. How could he say what he was really feeling? His first-grade vocabulary did not give him the words to describe the way he felt. He just smiled and brushed his fingertip along baby Jesse’s soft hand.

Dad stood next to Mom and smiled too. You’re gonna be a good brother, Cal.

He nodded slightly. I’m a big brother! This is going to be so cool!

* * * * *

This was not cool. Why do babies have to cry so much?

Cal turned over in his bed again. He could see by the moonlight that Jesse was in his crib, but he didn’t need to see him to know he was there. He could hear him.

Boy, could that baby cry!

Cal clapped his hands over his ears and waited to see who would come and get him this time. In a moment, Dad stumbled in through the open doorway and lifted the crying baby out of the crib.

Try and go back to sleep, Cal, he muttered, taking Jesse to the front room to feed him or change him or whatever it was they did to get him to stop crying.

Cal let out a breath, rubbing his tired eyes. It was still so dark out, but was it a little while past late, or was it almost early? There was school tomorrow. Cal hated being tired at school, but his teacher knew he had a baby brother who cried and woke him up every night. Cal was having serious doubts about the whole brother thing.

You’re going to be a great big brother, Dad had told him. But how? Jesse was so little, and it had already been two weeks since Mom and Dad brought him home. Jesse couldn’t do anything but sleep and drink milk and cry and make messy diapers.

It was going to take a long time before Jesse was old enough for Cal to teach him anything or for them to play together. What was he supposed to do until then? Try to go back to sleep, Cal. That’s it. Try to go back to sleep.

Jesse finally stopped crying. Cal soaked up the silence. He wished Mom would come back and sing to him If You Want to Sing Out. That’s what she usually sang to him—that or Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, but Sing Out was his favorite. Would she start singing that song to Jesse?

Cal wasn’t sure how he felt about sharing his bedtime song with his brother. He already had to share his room and his life. Sing Out was his song.

Jesse might like it, though, as much as Cal did. Well, he could share his song, he thought as his eyes fluttered shut. In the warm, dark silence of night, Cal finally drifted back to sleep.

* * * * *

Come on, Cal, time to get up.

Dad’s voice jolted him awake.

What? Huh?

Cal? It’s morning. Get on up.

Cal turned toward Dad’s voice, blinking. Was it morning already? He looked around, wakefulness seeping into his brain, and he realized it was getting light outside the window.

Are you awake?

Yes, Cal replied, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Okay, Dad said, standing in the doorway, his dark hair sticking out in odd directions. Get up and get dressed. Pants, a shirt, socks, and shoes too—all of it.

Okay, Dad.

Good kid. Then come on out for breakfast.

Okay.

Dad nodded then left. Cal stretched and looked at Jesse’s empty crib. He was already awake? That wasn’t fair. Jesse woke everyone up by crying, and he still woke up early.

Cal was tired and Dad had seemed tired too and Mom started looking tired in the mornings. Jesse made everyone tired.

Cal considered rolling over and pulling the blankets around his ears, going back to sleep, but Mom would get angry. She yelled when she was angry, and Cal hated the yelling.

So instead he pulled himself up like gum off a shoe, slipped out of his rocket ship pajamas, and fumbled through the motions of dressing himself. He checked to make sure his T-shirt wasn’t on backward before wandering out to the kitchen.

The first thing he did was look for Jesse.

There he was, snug in his baby carrier on the table. He was sort of awake, looking around through eyes that kept closing on their own. Did Jesse like their apartment? Cal wondered.

Hey, kiddo, Mom greeted him, making oatmeal over the stove.

Hey.

Did you get enough sleep last night?

Sure.

Sit down and eat breakfast, she directed. It’s ready.

Cal obeyed as Dad came in, his hair under control, and he sat down to put on his work shoes. Mom sat three bowls down on the table, spooning oatmeal into them.

Spoons? Dad asked, and Cal couldn’t help but notice the irritated look Mom gave him before she went to get them.

Cal felt himself tense up. Was this going to be an arguing day? He hated those days. Mom and Dad would get snappy with each other, and the whole apartment felt tight. He glanced over at baby Jesse. Mom and Dad hadn’t seemed to want to argue very much since Jesse had been born. Maybe they didn’t want to wake him up when he was sleeping, or maybe they were too tired because Jesse’s crying kept waking them up.

Thank you, Mom, Cal said when she plunked a spoon down next to his bowl. He felt relief when she smiled a little, and he smiled back. He was glad he could make her happy. If only she would stay happy more often, then she wouldn’t get snappy. Then Dad wouldn’t get snappy back, and there would be no arguing.

Eat your oatmeal, Mom told Cal, and he quickly obeyed, eyeing Jesse while he ate. He had fallen asleep again. How much did he sleep during the day? If he stayed awake during the day, he would sleep more at night. Wouldn’t he?

Dad shoveled the last of his breakfast into his mouth then stood up, playfully messing Cal’s already messy hair. Be good at school today, he told him. I’m going to work.

Okay, Dad.

Dad crossed the room to kiss Mom, but she kept her head turned so he had to kiss her cheek and not her lips.

Bye, she said. Nothing more.

Bye. Dad turned and gave Jesse a gentle kiss on his forehead that did not wake him up.

Cal sat, slowly eating his breakfast while Mom did the same. Eventually Mom looked up at him, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Do you need to take anything special to school today? she asked.

Cal thought hard. I don’t think so, he answered. There’s no show-and-tell today.

Mom smirked. I wonder what your classmates would think if we brought Jesse in for show-and-tell?

Cal smiled. I think they’d like it.

No one’s ever brought in a baby, have they?

No, they haven’t. Cal laughed at the thought of bringing Jesse into class. But what if he cries?

He doesn’t cry that much, does he?

Cal wrinkled his nose. I guess not, but at night he does.

You did too, you know, Mom said, pointing her spoon at him playfully. You were a handful yourself, and I didn’t really know how to take care of a baby as much as I do now. Daddy and I had to figure everything out with you.

I don’t remember being a baby, Cal told her.

No one does, Mom replied. Jesse won’t either.

Cal looked over at him, still sleeping.

Do you still like him? Mom asked. Even though he cries at night and wakes us up?

I still like him, Cal told her truthfully. But I’ll like him better when he gets old enough to play.

I’m sure you will. Now finish up. We don’t want you to be late for school.

* * * * *

Cal stared down at his homework packet—one page of reading, one page of writing in answers, and two pages of adding and subtracting. He knew he could do it, but he was tired of making himself think that way. He wanted to play with his tanks and soldiers.

Maybe he could get Mom to help him—but she was feeding Jesse. Cal sighed, leaning his cheek on his fist. The words on the page were a jumble of letters waiting for him to make sense of them. There was a picture of a raccoon, but he had no idea how to spell raccoon. R-A—he stopped. R-A-K-E-W-N. Sure. That must be almost right.

Jesse’s fussing drew Cal’s attention. He didn’t want any more milk. Cal watched Jesse’s tiny fists flailing around as Mom wiped milk off his chin. She flung a cloth over her shoulder then propped Jesse up against herself and patted him on the back to make him burp. Cal felt like he’d seen her do that a hundred times.

How’s your homework going? she asked, barely turning in Cal’s direction.

Fine, Cal answered quickly.

What is it?

Reading and math.

Can you read it all?

Not all of it.

Just sound out all the letters, she advised, still patting Jesse’s back. You’ll figure it out.

Okay, Cal replied, trying not to sound too disappointed. What if he couldn’t figure it all out? How was he supposed to answer the questions about the story if he couldn’t read the whole story?

Jesse must have finally burped because Mom put him down in his baby carrier and ran her fingers through her hair.

Cal considered asking her to help him when Dad came in through the door. Hey, kiddo, he greeted Cal, coming around the corner into the kitchen.

Hi, Dad.

Hey, Allie.

Hey.

How’s it going?

Same as every day, she replied, getting up and stretching her back. I’m tired. I’m going to take a bath. She slid out past the table and headed off down the hallway.

Great, Dad mumbled. My day was great. I’m tired too. He sighed then turned to look at Jesse, who was still awake, kicking his little feet. How’s my little guy? Dad asked in his I’m-talking-to-the-baby voice.

Cal watched as Dad carefully scooped Jesse up and into his arms, rocking him and chatting at him.

Now Dad can’t help me with my reading either, Cal grumbled to himself. He turned to the other page. At least he could do the math all by himself.

Jesse makes everyone tired. He sulked. Mom’s too tired to help me with my homework, and Dad’s paying more attention to Jesse than he is me. Babies just wake people up at night by crying, and they get all the attention during the day.

He frowned at his math sheet. No one would even notice if he didn’t do any of his homework.

After dinner and a bath, Cal lay in bed, peering through the gap in his curtains at the dark night sky. Why had he thought it would be so cool to have a baby brother? Jesse was not even one month old, but Cal was already tired of him. He had hoped that the new baby would keep Mom and Dad from arguing, and he had but only because they were too tired to yell at each other. They still got snappy with each other. That hadn’t changed.

And Cal didn’t feel like he was a great big brother either even though everyone said he would be. He didn’t know how to feed Jesse his bottles or change his stinky diapers—not that he wanted to. He sighed and rolled over on his bed, knocking Bunches off onto the floor.

Bunches, his stuffed toy moose, was almost as old as Cal himself. His rich brown fur was rubbing off all over the place, and his antlered head leaned too far to one side. Cal stared down at the black plastic eyes for a minute.

Yes, he finally told himself. I do still want him in my bed. Reaching down, Cal grabbed him by one leg and hauled him back up.

He could hear Jesse moving around in his crib against the far wall. Was he awake?

Cal got up out of bed and stepped slowly, quietly across the room. Peering down at his baby brother, he could see that he was awake. His tiny hands were rolled up into fists, and he was moving his head from side to side as if looking around, but he was frowning.

Why? He couldn’t possibly be hungry again, could he?

Jesse’s tiny lower lip stuck out in a pout, and Cal wondered if he was about to cry. Then Mom or Dad would need to wake up and come check on him.

Cal sighed. Would this never change? Why couldn’t Jesse just sleep all night like everyone else?

Jesse’s little face wrinkled up, and he started to whimper.