The sound of the distressed mother yelling her son's name in Walmart was what made me realize I hadn't thought of my brother in a while. Hunter. She yelled it, not so much yelled it, but stressed the fact loudly that this Hunter had better cease and desist whatever the hell he was doing. My eyes got puffy and I felt a little sick. I was in line at the time paying for whatever I felt I needed that particular evening. Canned mandarine oranges, popsicles and a small fan I guess. Forgot the cat food though. I'd felt silly enough even being inside Walmart. I'm one of those hypocrites who bitches about Walmart but still manages to frequent the place twice a week for something or another.
I heard her voice saying Hunter. I had to ask rhetorically Is that your son's name. She responded the affirmative. They must have noticed my face and demeanor. The man, the boy's father noted that it was a powerful name. Indeed. I wanted to stay and chat with these strangers. Walmart strangers at that. Just because their unruly kid had the same name as my brother. I felt something. A connection. I don't believe in connections like that though. A name? That's not a connection, it's a coincidence. It got me though. Missing your brother, having nothing to give, nothing to really so much receive anymore, you take what little bit of something you can. That's a force. Nearly six years now. That's a force.
