I Love My Brother Part 3

By Todd

The next day we attacked the mountain with the cloudless cobalt blue sky watching us from above. It was a gorgeous day. The skiing was ideal and having my brother as my ski partner made it even better. Throughout the whole day I never once thought about that fact that just a day earlier my brother pulled some seriously uncool crap. This was a mistake, because I was about disregard history and make a similarly large blunder.

Unfortunately work got in the way of our fun. The following day I had my brother take me to work and promise that he would not pull the same stunt as before and would be at the mountain to pick me up later on. Ok, no problem. I trust you dude. I thought lightning doesn't strike twice. Oh boy was I wrong.

The afternoon came and went as well as most possibilities of rides home. Since my brother was a no show, twice in three days, I eventually had to hitch hike home. Was this deja vu? Upon arrival at my house, anger had consumed me. Yet I was not about to go searching for him, besides I was severely limited since he had my car again. I decided to wait until the next day and use a friend's car.

My search route was an obvious one. Head directly to Stateline. The events that followed validated to me that to be addicted to gambling is to have an all-consuming disease. As a youth I may have thought that I understood gambling. The fact of the matter is that none of us fully fathomed the long term impact gambling can have on those of us that are weak in constitution or have addictive personalities.

As I rounded the corner after passing the California/Nevada state line, the first of the casinos came into view. It is a small cluster of buildings. Then appearing before my very eyes, something familiar to me. There, parked in a taxi zone, my black Toyota Corolla. I immediately pulled into the establishment, using the appropriately designated parking spaces. It was early; I was the only car in the lot. I approached the front doors to the casino with a feeling one could only describe as a cross between bewilderment and pity. However, once I entered and quickly observed that my brother was the only gambler occupying a seat at a gaming table, I saw red. He noticed me as I approached him. He casually said hello like I just bumped into him or something. He looked terrible, desperate and thirsty. I told him that we had to go now. He didn't resist. I didn't resist the anger inside me telling me to berate him right then and there. So I did, but it quickly turned into a pity party when he began sobbing and admitting that he had a problem. I was so furious that I insisted that his trip was over and that

I was going to take him straight to the airport that day. It was five days into his twelve-day visit and his welcome had been completely worn out. But, I love my brother. His trip ended early, albeit just a few days. I was happy to have the responsibility and unpredictability out of my life. In the end, the allure of gambling, or attaining that rush only achieved by winning large amounts of cash, became a burden and not a novelty. My brother gave up gambling cold turkey. As far as myself, well, lets just say that the few times I have gambled in the last decade, the rush of winning has been the prevailing feeling, not that I really had ever noticed it or anything.