<strong>Sheep</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> road detached house with a corrugated t<strong>in</strong> roof. The yard was on a slope and terraced with mango trees out back and a guava tree <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> front. I must have noticed Brian crawl<strong>in</strong>g, walk<strong>in</strong>g, say<strong>in</strong>g his first words … as I must have also observed Anne, but none of this is <strong>in</strong> my memory. Although, I do remember our first nights at <strong>the</strong> house <strong>in</strong> Manor view <strong>Road</strong> where we slept on mattresses on <strong>the</strong> floor as no furniture had arrived. Brian was always small for his age, my mo<strong>the</strong>r doted on him and called him ‘B<strong>in</strong>ky’ mak<strong>in</strong>g a fuss of his curly hair. We kids had our childhood illnesses and even spent time <strong>in</strong> Wentworth Hospital with scarlet fever, but Brian seemed to suffer illness more than ei<strong>the</strong>r Anne or I … he also had polio and men<strong>in</strong>gitis. With his slight build, sorry … I th<strong>in</strong>k I enjoyed teas<strong>in</strong>g him as when he got fight<strong>in</strong>g mad I laughed as he pummelled me, mak<strong>in</strong>g him madder. I was just ano<strong>the</strong>r cruel child. This is not go<strong>in</strong>g to be some weighty account, but as befits <strong>the</strong> limited <strong>in</strong>formation its go<strong>in</strong>g to be a bit flighty with th<strong>in</strong>gs I remember, th<strong>in</strong>gs I have been told and bits from his letters, but maybe thats enough? I am try<strong>in</strong>g to fathom why I don’t have any sharp memories of Brian. When I left home proper he was 14, he went to Glenwood High School where he played snare drum <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> school’s march<strong>in</strong>g band. As children, he accompanied me <strong>in</strong> our forages <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> bush around <strong>the</strong> houses we lived <strong>in</strong>, he was a party to <strong>the</strong> collection of crabs, he never did have a pet (Anne and I both had dogs at some po<strong>in</strong>t) … he just seemed to be <strong>the</strong>re. Umkomaas to stay with my mo<strong>the</strong>r’s sister, our aunt Ivy. She had 2 sons and a daughter too … anyway, ra<strong>the</strong>r than have family versus family <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> games we would play, I partnered up with Guy, Brian with Clive and Anne with Janet … I’ve never wondered about this until now, but was this eng<strong>in</strong>eered by adults or did we so egalitarianly choose this arrangement? After leav<strong>in</strong>g school, where he matriculated, he drifted a bit, seemed to have a couple of dodgy jobs, was <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> SA army for compulsory service, went to Tech but left without diploma. He seemed to have good politics. He liked music by Jethro Tull, CSNY, James Taylor, K<strong>in</strong>g Crimson, Traffic, Beatles, Roll<strong>in</strong>g Stones, The Band, Jimi Hendrix amongst o<strong>the</strong>rs, and read books by authors like Ken Kessey, Herman Hesse, Charles Reich, J.D. Sal<strong>in</strong>ger, Norman Mailer, Scott-Fitzgerald … He worked <strong>in</strong> a graphic studio, had an exhibition of his art along with our cous<strong>in</strong> Guy, lived <strong>in</strong> a flat with o<strong>the</strong>rs <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g Guy, never made <strong>the</strong> visit to us that he often talked of … and died on 29 May 1977, probably due to all those childhood illnesses. O<strong>the</strong>r than <strong>the</strong> teas<strong>in</strong>g, memories of which I have been forced to admit so <strong>the</strong>y do come to m<strong>in</strong>d, he was just my bro<strong>the</strong>r – we shared a bedroom, sometimes we were dressed identically for special occasions by my mo<strong>the</strong>r, we played toge<strong>the</strong>r. Every summer we kids were packed off to 90
On <strong>the</strong> Beach, 1953 As I mentioned, I recently found some letters from him, reread<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>m makes me quite sad as I th<strong>in</strong>k, were he alive now, it would be <strong>the</strong> most wonderful th<strong>in</strong>g and we would chat and chat … I miss him. 91