Brotherhood

“It’s not fair!” Avner kicked the kicked the fencepost where the calf now sizzling on the spit had been tethered not an hour before. “It’s just not fair. That brat has been spoiled rotten ever since he was born. I used to think some demon must have switched babies in the crib, how Abba and Eema could have produced such a - well. Well, I know they were grateful to have another son after all the girls, but you would have thought he was the Messiah or something, the fuss they made. "Share your toys with your little brother!" "Pick up after your little brother!" Aaron’s always gotten away with everything. I thought we were finally rid of him, after that last stunt he pulled. How he ever dared show his ungrateful face around here again I’ll never know. But does the old man finally hold him accountable? Does he finally say, “enough’s enough!” No, it’s just the same as it’s always been only worse. Now it’s "Kill the fatted calf for your little brother!” I raised that calf for my wedding day.

Do you know what my brother did? Do you have any idea what that - that - that worthless, lying, lazy, drunken hooligan did? A couple of years ago Aaron went to our father and asked for his share of the estate right then and there. Our law tells us not to divide up the family property before the owner dies. Aaron should have been beaten black and blue! Any other father in our village would have, or at the very least kicked him out of the house. Aaron might as well have said straight out, “I wish you were dead.” But did he get into trouble? Did he even so much as get a stern talking-to? Not a word! And when Aaron went even further and talked our father into giving him the cash value so he could spend it right away, what do you suppose Abba did? Right! Aaron got everything he asked for! And then the next morning he just waltzed off down the road, leaving me just as he always did with all the responsibility.

Yeah, yeah, I can hear you say it now. I got my share, too. Abba divided the estate between us. But that’s not the point. First of all, I didn’t ask for anything. And I knew perfectly well that if I had said anything about how improper it was, and that this was just the sort of thing you could expect from a lifetime of over-indulgence, I would have been ignored or told to be nicer, just like always. But does Abba ever listen to my advice? Not where Aaron is concerned, that’s for sure! Anyway, the second thing is, that I knew that when Abba got old and couldn’t work any more it would be my responsibility to take care of him, because even if Aaron were still around, which of course you couldn’t count on, he wouldn’t carry his fair share of the burden any more than he ever had. No, it’s always, “Avner, you take care of it.” Well, I’m tired of fighting a losing battle. Let Aaron take the money and go. I knew Father would miss him, the old fool, but we’d all be better off without him. It was almost worth the price.

Of course I kept my ears open for any news. And the way Aaron carried on was just what the village gossips loved best, and every traveler had a tale that topped the one before. Most of them didn’t have the nerve to tell father all the lurid details, but I’m sure he heard, all the same, even though he pretended everything was just fine and that Aaron would be coming home any day.

Now, you may not know this, because Abba is really into the simple life; he says that displaying wealth is an offense to those less fortunate, but our family is pretty well fixed. The land is good, and we’ve taken care of it, and our livestock are among the finest in Galilee. So to give Aaron his share in gold and silver, Father had to go to a money-lender - I know, that’s just asking for trouble, but the only alternative was to sell some land and that father would never do, not even for Aaron. Of course I didn’t ask for my share in coin, I just took a deed for the upper pastures and the vineyard. But we’ve all had to go without, and even to postpone making improvements, in order to make the payments. So to watch Aaron throw away - and on Gentiles, yet! the fruit of generations upon generations of faithful stewardship was more than any sane man could be expected to endure. If anyone else lost their property to Gentiles they’d be publicly disowned. But not Abba. Oh, no. Even after nearly three years he’d still go out after supper every evening and look down the road, just to see if Aaron was coming home.