Warning: Contains descriptions of suicide

 

It was seven in the morning on a typical Saturday morning and the house was quiet. In his room, a boy no older than ten opened his eyes and with the exuberant energy of a child, hopped out of bed. Then, still in his pyjamas, he snuck out of his room, careful not to wake his brother and went downstairs, hoping to watch some cartoons before his father caught him. He paused at the foot of the stairs, staring at the figure sleeping on the sofa before he gave a whoop.

“Uncle Frank!”

He pounced on his father’s youngest brother, all thoughts of cartoons forgotten.

“Whoa! Slow down kiddo!”

Frank, who was rudely awoken gave a muffled cry before he wrapped his nephew in the blanket he was using. He was already used to this welcome every time he crashed at his brother’s place and it didn’t matter if he was sleeping on the sofa or in the guest room, as soon as Erick knew that his uncle was here, he’d always come crashing onto him. Erick gave a carefree laugh as he popped his head from under the blankets, wriggling desperately to free himself.

“Hey Uncle Frank. When did you get here?” Fifteen year old Alex came downstairs yawning before he sat next to his uncle and brother.

“Last night. It was too late so I just slept on the sofa instead of bothering your mother to set up the guest room.”

He smiled at his older nephew but still had Erick in a bear hug. “Calm down or I’m going to tie you to the chair.” He playfully threatened him.

Erick giggled but finally settled down, still wrapped like a burrito in the blanket. He looked adoringly at his uncle, who was more like a cooler older brother than a person one generation above. With only a fifteen year age gap between them, it was no wonder. “So where did you go this time?”

“In South East Asia. Want to see the pictures?”

“Yes!”

Frank leaned over and grabbed the knapsack leaning against the sofa before rummaging through it. He pulled out several photo albums out and handed them to his nephews. Erick squirmed out of the blanket and eagerly opened the book in his hand, eyes wide as he looked at the photos his uncle had painstakingly arranged inside.

As a freelance photographer, his uncle was one of those few that had the opportunity to travel the world. With his camera, his uncle shot amazing scenes of people and places that always made Erick want to go see them for himself.

They were all there. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. Frank wasn’t particular about what he took with his camera; there were beautiful beach sunsets and mountain sunrises, rising skyscrapers and lush forests. The ruins of Angkor Wat and Borobudur; decorated elephants in the streets of Bangkok and the gleaming Twin Towers in Kuala Lumpur.

But he always managed to also be there in interesting and dangerous times; during the riots and demonstrations, during a search and rescue. He didn’t just take pictures of happy, peaceful times, he was also there to capture the anger, injustice, despair, fear and relief of his subjects.

Every picture Erick saw made him want to study it a little longer, as if he was there, taking in the sight, sound and smell at the scene. He really had never come across other photos that could move him this much. The three of them sat together in the living room, looking at the photos and listening to Frank’s story behind each picture before Erick’s mother called them for breakfast.

After that, Frank had excused himself, saying he had somewhere he needed to go. Erick pouted, especially when his uncle had packed the albums with him; he had wanted to look at those pictures a little longer.

“Later, ok, kiddo? You can look at them again when I come back.”

Frank smiled as he ruffled his nephew’s hair. Then taking his rucksack with him, he left the house.

As Erick expected, his father had kicked him and his siblings out of the house after lunch, telling them not to come back until dinner time. Erick watched as his older brother and sister both went to their friend’s house, leaving him and eight year old Cassie behind. They stared at each other before Cassie shrugged and ran to the garden with a book.

All their father wanted was for them not to be glued to the TV. After thinking about it, Erick took his bike and started pedalling around the neighbourhood. None of his friends lived nearby so Erick was used to roaming on his own.

As he pedalled, his thoughts flew back to his uncle’s photos again. Those colourful, exotic photos fascinated him. He couldn’t wait for his uncle to come back so that he could see those pictures again.

And as if he had conjured him just by thinking about it, Erick saw his uncle walking slowly back towards his home, his head bowed and shoulders hunched. The ever excited boy called his uncle’s name as he cycled over.

Frank seemed to break out from his stupor and looked at the childish, exuberant boy who was rushing towards him at top speed in a daze.

“You’re back!” the bicycle stopped just before hitting his uncle, his gaze happy and expectant.

“Yeah…” the boy immediately felt that something was wrong with his normally responsive uncle.

“Uncle Frank…?”

“Sorry, kiddo. I just got some bad news. Do you mind if you go home first?”

“Ok…” Erick gave his uncle one last look before he turned for home. With the setting sun casting a shadow that hid most of his face, Erick could not tell what his uncle was feeling but to his impressionable mind, he couldn’t help but think that it was as if his uncle had lost something very important to him, as if he lost his soul.

*           *           *           *           *

It was evening when a twelve year old Erick said goodbye to his friends and started to walk towards the bus stop, heading for home. Just as he neared the stop, he heard a car honking behind him. He turned to see his father’s car, his father waving at him from the open window.

“Get in.”

“Dad? What’s the occasion?”

“Your Uncle Frank’s back. I’m going to pick him up from the station now.”

Erick couldn’t help but smile in excitement. It had been two years since he had seen his uncle but every now and then he would receive some photos of what his uncle had been doing.

For some reason, he had quit his job and went on crazier adventures than before. He had received pictures of him diving with sharks, mountain climbing somewhere in the Alps, by the crater of a volcano… It was as if his uncle was finding interesting ways to die.

The pictures were cool and any of his friends who saw them were jealous about how cool and adventurous his uncle was but somehow, Erick didn’t like those pictures much.

Maybe it was because his uncle had been the subject of the photos instead of the one taking them, the focus had been about him and never about the story behind the picture. Maybe it was because while his uncle had been smiling in them, his eyes gave him away; as if his body was there but his spirit was somewhere else.

The dead look that Erick had seen in his uncle’s eyes two years ago seemed to always be present in every one of those photos. The photos taken by his uncle were always so vibrant, so alive but the photos of his uncle… they seemed dead.

In no time at all, they arrived at the station. The impulsive Erick happily stuck half his body out the car window and waved when he saw his uncle before he was dragged back to his seat by his father. He obediently accepted the rap on his head but smiled at his uncle as he rubbed his head.

“Hey kiddo. Don’t you know that was dangerous?” his uncle gave him an amused smile as he tossed his bag into the back seat before getting in himself.

“Says the one who took a picture of a lion outside his car.” Erick stuck his tongue out at his uncle.

“He does have a point.” His father interjected. Frank gave his eldest brother a weak smile but said nothing.

“So? Where did you go to this time?” Erick was eager to listen to some new adventure from his uncle.

“You saw the photos, I’ve been everywhere.”

“That’s not what I meant.” The boy pouted at his uncle. “Where were you before you got here?”

“The airport.” Frank deadpanned.

“Uncle Frankkkkkk!”

“We can talk about it later. We’re almost home anyway.” Erick’s father intervened again before asking his brother “How are you now?”

“Tired.”

“Then have a good rest after dinner.”

“Mmm.” And the car drifted off in silence. Erick turned his head to see his uncle leaning back, with his eyes closed. At this distance, he could see that his uncle was tired, with dark shadows around his eyes and his face bloodless, despite the tan. He faced forward again and forced himself to calm down. His father seemed to have noticed his consideration and ruffled his head as they silently drove home.

*           *           *           *           *

“So? Are there any new photos?”

It was amazing that Erick had managed to repress himself until after they were done with dinner before he pounced on his uncle.

Alex rolled his eyes and his elder sister, Amy, smirked at him. Cassie giggled and his parents shook their heads while giving each other a helpless smile. Frank gave his nephew a weak smile before he took out his albums. Erick bounced over, sitting beside his uncle. But when he saw the pictures inside, he pouted.

“I don’t want to see pictures of you. Where are the pictures you took?”

“I… didn’t take any…”

“What? Stop kidding Uncle Frank. You must have taken some…”

“I really didn’t…”

“Please?” Erick was not beyond whining and wheedling with his uncle.

“I…”

“Erick. I didn’t teach you to behave like this.” His father suddenly broke in, his voice sharp.

Erick looked at his uncle and was shocked to see the look of utter discomfit on his uncle’s face.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Frank!” He hurriedly opened the album in his hands. But Erick really didn’t like these photos at all. After five minutes of flipping, he was done. “Uncle Frank, do- do you think I can see the photos you took two years ago instead?” he looked hesitantly at his uncle, afraid of upsetting him. His uncle’s face turned strange.

“Why do you want to see those? They’re old.”

“Yeah, but I think they were your best works so far! It really made me want to be there.” Looking at his nephew’s enthusiastic face, Frank swallowed and reluctantly pulled out the album.

The book was more worn out now, as if it had been opened and looked at often. But Erick could understand the allure; those photos were fantastic. He happily stared at those photos, going back and forth between the ones he really liked until his father told him it was time for bed.

He then reluctantly closed the album, his fingers tracing the faded words ‘Album’ on the front cover. But he gave his uncle a smile before saying goodnight and going to bed, not realizing that his uncle stared at the closed album on the table for a very long time after.

*           *           *           *           *

“Uncle Frank?” Erick knocked on the door of the guest bedroom before entering. On the bed were piles of photo albums; Erick widened his eyes in delight.

“Hey kiddo.” His uncle gave him a faint smile. “I was just sorting my collection.”

“Can I look at them too?”

“… Sure”

There was something off about Uncle Frank. Erick couldn’t tell what it was but he suddenly lacked that drive, that liveliness, that sense of humour that was Uncle Frank. He didn’t like it but he wasn’t sure how to get the old Uncle Frank back. So all he could do was sit down and enjoy the photos that his uncle took and maybe wheedle a story or two out of him.

He sat on the bed and reached out for an album at random. This one was from when he was travelling in Southern Africa; the sunset in the Kalahari was breath-taking. And then there was scenery from Cape Point and the Jacarandas in Harare, not to mention the multiple shots of animals while his uncle was on a safari tour.

After a while, he came across an album he hadn’t seen before. When he opened it, he frowned. The pictures looked like they were from his uncle’s recent trip but the photos did not appeal.

It was as if his uncle just aimed the lens and shot the photo without any thought of the composition of the photos. There was no contrast, no life. Before he realized it, a pair of hands came over and took the album away. Erick looked up to see his uncle, face expressionless.

“This one was a bunch of failures. I don’t know why I printed them.”

“I thought you said you didn’t take any this time.”

”They’re as good as not taking any, don’t you think?”

“Uncle Frank...”

“Hmmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t feel like yourself at all. Are you sad?”

“… I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Your pictures wouldn’t lie. If you were fine, your pictures would be fantastic.”

“You don’t think these pictures are any good, do you?”

“No, I hate these pics. They’re not like you at all.”

Erick sulked a little, his voice petulant. Erick had been so used to the casual, easy relationship with his uncle that he had more or less forgotten that Frank was actually one generation older and not his older brother.

His uncle stared silently at the album full of half-hearted pictures before sighing. “I guess I lost my soul, kiddo.”

“It can’t be that bad. Cheer up.”

“I wish I could…” Frank muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Listen kiddo, I’m really tired right now. Do you mind leaving me alone for now?”

While reluctant, Erick still knew not to push it. “Sure. I’ll see you later, Uncle Frank.” He got off the bed and left, shutting the door as he went. That was the last time he saw his uncle.

*           *           *           *           *

“Such a pity to go so young.”

“Yes. He was what, twenty-seven, twenty-eight?”

“Do you know what happened?”

“I heard it was suicide.”

“No! Really? They told his parents it was heart failure.”

“His brother’s a doctor and the one who signed the death certificate. Of course he would cover it up…”

“Oh my…”

“That’s not the worst part… It seems the reason he killed himself was because…”

The voices sitting behind him had grown softer and Erick couldn’t catch the rest of the words. He sat in his seat, staring ahead, his mind numb. They had found Frank in the garage in the old family car. The engine was running and a hose pipe was attached from the exhaust to a window in the back passenger door. Erick and his siblings had been thrown out of the house the minute his father had realized what had happened and Erick didn’t even see the inside of the garage.

“No!” the surprised exclamation from one of the two women behind Erick startled him but before he could react, Alex had turned around and glared ferociously at the gossipers, who at least had the decency to shut up and look embarrassed.

But to Erick, he didn’t need to know the reason his uncle died. In his guilty, twelve-year old mind, he knew exactly why.

*           *           *           *           *

“Uh….”

“Erick shut up.”

There was a rustle of the covers but the muffled sound coming from Erick’s bed did not stop.

“Erick, I’m trying to sleep.” It had been a long day after the funeral.

More rustling but it was finally quiet. Alex breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes again. But the movements on his brother’s bed was suspicious. The usually happy-go-lucky brother of his was normally out like a light the moment his head touched the pillow. Alex raised his head and called in the darkness.

“Erick?”

There was more movements under the covers and Alex listened carefully. “Erick, are you crying?”

He got up and turned on the lights, turning to look at the lump on his brother’s bed. He grasped the covers and gave a yank, only to find that Erick had smothered his face into his pillow.

“Stop that.” Alex pulled his brother away and looked at his tear stained face.

“What’s wrong?”

“U- Un- Uncle Frank…” Erick stuttered as his hands went to wipe away the nonstop tears. Alex waited patiently for his brother to continue.

“I-it’s all m-m-my fault…”

“What?!” Alex looked aghast at his crying brother.

“I caused him to die!” Erick couldn’t take it anymore and started to cry once more.

“No you didn’t.”

“I did!”

“Kiddo. Stop”

Alex used his uncle’s nickname on him, hoping to calm him down. Instead, it caused him to start howling anew. Just as Alex was wondering what to do, the door opened and their father walked in.

“What’s going on?”

“I-I-I k-k-killed Uncle Frank!”

Dr Henry looked at his eldest son, who shrugged.

“What on earth gave you that idea?” Dr Henry crouched down to look at Erick who was still sobbing.

“I-I-I to-told him th-that I h-hated his p-pictures…”

“No. That’s not the reason.” He was immediately refuted.

“But he d-died after that…” Erick hiccupped.

“Son, people don’t die just because someone said they hated them. Your uncle… He’s been going through a very rough patch and he just wasn’t strong enough. It was very selfish of him to do what he did but know this. It was not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s probably mine.” Dr Henry awkwardly patted his son, who had cried so much he was coughing.

“If you’re still feeling sad, we’ll talk about it some more later. But it was never your fault that your uncle died so get that out of your mind. Now go to sleep.”

With that, Dr Henry tucked his son back into bed, patted him on the head and turned off the lights before he left. Alex laid back in his bed and looked at his younger brother in the dark before he turned over and went to sleep.

 

End of Part 1