Sibling Rivalry

Derrick and I have never had a stronger relationship than now. We roam New York City as if we own it. We scheme to hop the rails in the subway because we only had two dollars and fifty cents on a MetroCard; which is only good for one ride. We get lost in the adventures of downtown Brooklyn’s artist district to go check out the latest indie films, art galleries, and such eclectic music it turns your soul into sheet music. Tonight, we are on our way to the Broadway show Motown. Derrick didn’t want to come, but he owed me a night out for making me go see Lil Wayne in concert.

Suddenly, Derrick shouts, “Hermana! Why did you do that?” Here we go again. Every time we start to get along, we end up fighting like it's World War III. I have no clue what he is talking about, as usual. All I know is that we were having a good time cracking jokes about the people who walked by and now I am the one who is getting yelled at. People on the street are now looking at us as if we were the three-headed dog, Cerberus, from Hates’ underworld. Of course, now they're avoiding coming in our direction; hoping that we wouldn’t bite their heads off for simply glancing at our crazy theatrics.

“You’re always lying on me! Why would you tell Nate that I didn’t like him and didn’t want to be his—It’s just like Monopoly!” Derrick screams at me. I’m even more confused than before. Every time he thinks I did something to double-cross him, he brings up Monopoly to confirm his conviction of betrayal. Apparently, I am always doing him some type of wrong. Our childhood game of Monopoly is the most memorable moment in our sibling rivalry and most definitely the worst argument in our sibling history.

I was nine visiting my Dad and family for summer vacation; I traveled to New York every summer since my mother moved my sister and me to the west coast when I was four years old. It was too hot to venture outside to play freeze tag down the block, catch fireflies at the park by the library, or even to just sit on the stoop. Me, Derrick, and our cousins, Dezi and Izi, were sitting at the dining room table blasting music, eating Otter Pops every two seconds, bologna sandwiches, and drinking apple juice pretending it was Champaign. Sage, my little brother of three years old, was painting on the kitchen floor while we were playing the “big kid” game; Monopoly.

Derrick hated to lose more than anything and Dezi was racking up the dollars. She owned more property than Daddy Warbucks in the classic film, Annie. “I quit!” Derrick yelled at the top of his lungs and stormed out of the room to watch Gargoyles on channel 61. Of course, my cousins and I had no care in the world that he decided to leave because it was normal for him to be a sore loser. After three hours, I got bored and decided to quit next. There was no point in continuing the game, so we all quit to go do our own things. Dezi went to go practice for her kickboxing class, Izi practiced his dance routines and I read my favorite book, Forded by Fire written by Sharon M. Draper. As I am reading the reveal of a major teenage scandal, stomps in Derrick yelling, again.

He started to throw the biggest temper tantrum we had ever seen him throw. He was screaming, waving his hands in the air, and threatening to throw the entire Monopoly game at my forehead. Shortly after that threat, we were in a fierce physical brawl like the fighters in the comedy series Celebrity Death Match on MTV. Blow by blow you could hear our cousins instigating in the background, “Pull her hair,” Izi yelled with a huge smirk. Dezi was no better yelling, “Karate chop him in his throat!” Eventually, I lost the fight when he threw me down to the ground and sat on me… Derrick was a big boy. He was probably the size of an ice cream truck, but most definitely not full of sweets…

While I was struggling to breathe and Derrick shouting, “I win! I win! I win” I heard our little brother crying, Sage, crying. With his Barney in his left arm, he says, “Stop fighting—we’re supposed to—to be a family. I’m gonna tell Daddy.” At that moment, Derrick and I knew we had to play nice for the little rat so he wouldn’t tell our parents about our showdown; forgoes a truce. When our parents walked in, I heard Sage tell them about the fight, but naturally, Derrick thought I sold him out. I must have told Derrick 100 times over and over that it was not me who broke the alliance, but he never believed me.

Now we are here once more fighting for no good reason. I finally told him that I didn’t know what he was talking about and that Nate was lying to him. Harsh words are spewing out of both of our mouths when a stranger walks up to us and says, “You two shouldn’t be arguing in public.” We both turn to face this puny beetle-eyed dough-boy and started our way at him with words that could make a person’s ears bleed. Needless to say, when it comes to brother and sister, no one will be able to talk to us like their head is missing a few screws. My brother may get on my last nerve and I certainly make his anger reach new peaks on a weekly basis, but blood is thicker than water. So back the fuck up.