The fourth day since the bullying incident, Laura returned to her lookout post behind the rain tree in the city park. He came with his head held high and determination burning; He will collect as much evidence as possible to prove that his mother is wrong, and that Alcel is truly a bad influence.
Exactly at four in the afternoon, Alcel's tall figure appeared. A black backpack was slung over one shoulder, and his digital pocket camera was in his hand.
The kindergarten child who was crying the other day was sitting alone on the edge of the sandbox. The naughty children who usually bothered him were seen playing on the swings in another corner of the park, keeping a safe distance for fear of the "creepy big brother" who was now walking closer to their target.
Laura held her breath, sharpening her gaze.
Alcel stopped right in front of the child. Without making small talk or asking how things were going, he reached into his shirt pocket and took out a photo—a printout from the previous day's shoot. Alcel pushed the photo down.
The little boy accepted it hesitantly. In the photo, his face looks gloomy with dried tears remaining.
"The photo was already bright, but because you were crying, the picture became ugly," Alcel commented in a flat tone, honestly without any intention of ridiculing. "Now, stand up."
The boy complied. Alcel took two steps back, raised his camera, and without warning pressed the shutter button. Click. Alcel lowered his camera, looked at the child for a moment, then turned around and just walked away.
Behind the tree, Laura frowned. Just like that? he thought in surprise. There was no additional intimidation, no cruel words, but also absolutely no friendliness like an adult reprimanding a child.
However, Laura did not give up. He continued to make observations. Day after day, and the city park became a silent witness to a repetitive routine. Like a time-lapse video playing slowly, Laura began to see changes that she didn't expect.
On the seventh day, the little boy no longer sat looking down when Alcel came. He stood up to greet him. When Alcel gave him a printed photo of the sixth day, the child looked at his own face which was still frowning on the photo paper. When Alcel raised the camera for that day's shot, the boy tried to pull back the corners of his lips, forcing a stiff smile.
Alcel stared at the LCD screen for a moment after taking the photo. He then looked at the child. "Your lips are just pulled back forcibly, your eyes are not smiling. This is called grimacing, not smiling. The picture is still bad," Alcel evaluated bluntly, before putting the camera back in his pocket and turning to leave.
If it were anyone else, such blunt criticism would probably make such a small child cry again. But strangely, the next day on the ninth day, the child looked at Alcel with an innocent, challenging gaze. He tried to smile wider, as if he saw Alcel's cold comments as a challenge that he had to conquer.
The peak occurs on the twelfth day.
That afternoon, before Alcel even arrived, the little boy was already standing near the sandbox, straightening his clothes excitedly. When Alcel's figure appeared from a distance, the child jogged over to him.
"Brother Camera!" called the child enthusiastically.
Alcel stopped in his tracks. He handed over a photo of the eleventh day. The boy saw it and chuckled at his own efforts. Then, without prompting, the child stepped back, puffed out his chest, and flashed a smile that was very sincere, bright, and loose.
Alcel raised his camera. Click.
For the first time in almost two weeks, Alcel did not immediately lower his camera. He looked at the LCD screen longer than usual. His dark eyes stared at the shots, then turned to look directly at the child's face.
"This is just a real smile. The photo is good," said Alcel. His hand moved slightly, giving a small nod. "Tomorrow, do it like this again."
The little boy cheered with joy, jumping up and down as if he had just won a guessing game, not just a flat compliment about the results of the camera shot.
From behind the trembesi tree, Laura's ego defenses slowly collapsed. His mouth was slightly open, at a loss for words. The premise he had worked so hard to build in his head was shattered.
His half-brother, who he considered evil, did not harm the child at all. By treating him as he was and without excessive pity, Alcel had unconsciously shifted the child's focus. Alcel gave him a simple goal every afternoon: smile for a good photo. And miraculously, that small goal managed to wipe away the remaining tears and fear from the child's face.
Laura swallowed hard, her chest heaving with a very foreign feeling. He began to realize that his mother was right. Alcel may be different, but there's something sincere about his rough way of seeing the world.
***
Fifteenth day. The afternoon sun gilds the city park with a warm golden color.
Laura returned to standing behind the trembesi tree. His eyes were closely watching the sandbox area. The kindergartner was there, putting together a small sand castle. Today, Alcel hasn't come yet.
However, the child's calm did not last long. Three naughty kids who usually bothered him appeared from the direction of the slide. They walked over to the sandbox with mocking smiles. Laura held her breath, preparing to see the whiny child cry again like two weeks ago.
One of the naughty children, the biggest one, kicked the edge of the sand castle until it partially collapsed.
"Hey, crybaby!" taunted the big boy, hands on his hips. "Can't you cry anymore? That scary brother wasn't there at that time, you know. You can't hide behind him."
His two other friends laughed in disdain.
Laura bit her lip. If this had happened two weeks ago, the child would have collapsed and wailed for his mother. But what Laura saw next really made her eyes widen.
The kindergartner didn't move back. He didn't look down, and his eyes weren't teary at all. Instead, he stood up straight, patted the dust off his trousers, then looked at the three naughty children with his chest puffed out.
"I won't cry anymore!" shouted the child loudly. "Because if I'm sad, that's my own business, not yours!"
The three brats were stunned. That sentence sounds too mature and brave for the children they usually make fun of. They looked at each other, confused to see their target suddenly have a steely mentality.
Before their surprise was finished, the boy reached into his shorts pocket and took out a printed photo. He held it high in the faces of his mockers.
"Besides, Brother Camera said, my photos will look ugly if I cry!" he said proudly. "Look at this! They say my smile makes the photo great!"
The three naughty children huddled together, curiosity overpowering their intentions to bully. They stared at the Polaroid photo. In the photo, the whiny child is seen smiling broadly against the backdrop of the beautiful afternoon light. For little kids, seeing their friends' faces printed on photo paper like that is something really cool.
"Wow... did you really take your photo?" muttered one of them, his eyes sparkling.
"Of course!" the boy replied proudly. He then pointed towards the path. "It's Brother Camera coming!"
Laura turned to follow the child's index finger. Sure enough, Alcel walked over with his trademark flat face, backpack on his shoulder, and pocket camera in hand.
If two weeks ago Alcel's presence made the three naughty children run away in fear, today the situation has changed one hundred and eighty degrees. Led by the whiny child, the four of them ran towards Alcel.
"Big bro! Camera Brother!" they shouted in response.
Alcel stopped in his tracks, looking at the group of small children who were now surrounding him up to his waist. His face remained expressionless.
"Big bro, we also want to take photos! So we'll be cool like him!" asked the big boy who had kicked the sand castle.
"Yes, Big bro! I can smile bigger than him!" said another, pushing each other to compete for space in front of the lens.
Alcel looked at them alternately. There are no friendly smiles or excited laughter like adults surrounded by children. He just took a step back, making room.
"You'll ruin the composition of my frame if you're crowded like that," said Alcel flatly, using technical language that the children clearly didn't understand. "Line up neatly. Don't cover the light."
Unexpectedly, the children who were usually naughty and difficult to manage immediately obeyed. They lined up neatly next to the whiny child, put their arms around each other's shoulders, and smiled as wide as possible at the camera. The traces of hostility between them disappeared without a trace, replaced by childish enthusiasm to get into the same photo frame.
Alcel raised his camera. He doesn't count *one-two-three*. He just adjusted the focus, then pressed the shutter button. *Click.*
Behind the trembesi tree, Laura slowly sank until she sat on a protruding tree root. His legs felt weak. His eyes continued to stare at the magical scene in front of him.
Alcel Meyer—the older brother he had hated to death, whom he considered evil, stiff, and heartless—was now standing there, surrounded by children who looked at him in admiration. With just a few harshly honest sentences and a free photo every afternoon, Alcel not only stops bullying, but also turns enemies into friends.
Laura held her chest which was beating fast. He felt very ashamed of himself. The hatred he had harbored for weeks now felt so childish and unwarranted.
***
Laura's footsteps felt heavy as she walked back towards the house. If two weeks ago he was running with his chest puffed out to complain about Alcel's ugliness, today he walked with his head down, covered in shame that was pressing on his lungs.
In the living room, his mother was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine, accompanied by a cup of hot tea. Hearing the sound of the door opening softly, the mother turned around. There were no slamming doors, no passionate screams. Only Laura's figure walked unsteadily, clutching the hem of her uniform skirt.
Laura approached her mother and sat on the carpet, resting her head on her mother's knee.
"How was your scouting today, princess?" her mother teased gently, her hand reaching out to stroke Laura's hair.
Instead of frowning, Laura hid her face in the folds of her arms. "Mother is right..." she squeaked softly, her voice muffled. "Older brother Alcel isn't bad."
The mother put down the magazine. "Oh? So has anyone found the answer?"
In a low and occasionally stuttering voice, Laura described the magical sight she had just witnessed in the garden. He told stories about whiny children who suddenly became brave, about polaroid photos, and about naughty children who turned to admire their half-brothers. At the end of the story, Laura looked up, looking at her mother with slightly teary eyes.
"I feel so bad, Mom," Laura whispered. His chest tightened every time he remembered how he deliberately broke the flower vase last week and slandered Alcel to the max. "All this time I was just bothering him. I was angry with him even though he never replied to me."
The mother smiled warmly. There was no judgment in his voice. "Realizing your mistakes is the first step to becoming more mature, Ra. I know you're not a bad child. You're just lonely and confused."
"I should apologize to him, right, Mom?"
"Of course. An apology won't lower your self-esteem."
That night, Laura's determination was made. However, execution apparently is not as easy as the intention in your heart.
After dinner filled with awkward silence, Alcel went straight back to his room. Laura stood in the living room, staring at Alcel's tightly closed bedroom door. His heart was beating fast. He stepped forward, slowly approaching the door.
Laura raised her right hand, preparing to knock. However, right before his knuckles touched the wooden surface, his hands froze in midair.
A feeling of inferiority suddenly seized him without mercy. Images of all his bad behavior over the past three weeks—from hiding shoes, accusing Alcel of breaking things, to glaring at him every day—replayed in his head. Laura felt too humiliated. *What if Big Brother Alcel ignores me? What if he looks at me with a straight face and thinks my apology is not important?* thought Laura, panic-stricken.
His hand slowly lowered. He swallowed dry saliva.
*Tomorrow,* he whispered to himself, trying to calm himself. *Tomorrow I will buy him something and apologize.*
However, “tomorrow” turned into the day after tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow turned into the following days.
Since that day, the dynamics in the house changed drastically. Laura completely stopped all acts of sabotage and interference. No more items being accidentally dropped, no more false complaints. The house becomes quiet and peaceful. But for Laura, the silence was actually torturous.
Every time she passed Alcel in the hallway or at the dining table, Laura immediately looked down, not daring to look into her older brother's dark eyes. Alcel himself, as usual, did not show any change in attitude. He continued to eat calmly, went to school on time, and carried out his activities as if Laura's presence or silence did not change the variables of his life at all.
Every night before going to bed, Laura always stands in front of Alcel's bedroom door. He always raised his hand, and always lowered it again because his sense of pride and guilt was too great. He kept postponing, convincing himself that tomorrow there would be the right time and courage to say one word of forgiveness.
He never thought that time was a variable that never waited for him. Until finally Alcel was no longer in the house.
