CALL ME SMOKEY

I wasn't really paying attention the first time he said this. I was still reeling from the haircut my neices had given me. "You hear me?" I nodded absent mindedly turning from side to side in front of the mirror checking the new do. "From now on you can call me Smokey." He was looming over my shoulder in the mirror, making eye contact with my reflection. I stopped preening and turned to face Shorty. "You want me to call you what?"
"Smokey."
"Ok. I'll play along. Why?"
He turned away and mumbled under his breath, "Just do it."
My big little brother had suffered from persistent headaches for years. I figured this was it. Finally something had shorted out in there and this name change was the precursor to something bad. He skulked away. It reminded me of a time years before when he spun this long elaborate tale of of pulling a gun on a guy in a bar and one of his cop buddies had to come to his aid and quiet the situation before somebody got killed. I gave him a stern lecture over doing such crazy shit and talked to his wife with brotherly concern. She just laughed it off, saying he was making it all up. If he was making it up, he should be the one sitting at the Selectric.
No one else in the family was even keeping track of this back and forth between us. I told Duke about Shorty's request and he just shrugged. "Guess you better call him Smokey then." Duke advised. Duke had a way better dynamic with Shorty...sorry..... "Smokey". The day after xmas I came home. I said goodbye to everyone and when I shook Smokey's hand I winked and called him Smokey. He smiled as if to say, there, that's better. For now we're going to leave him standing there. I can't deal with him right now. The shit's too deep and menacing. Better to just revisit the exs. Let Smokey be, well......Smokey.