Last to Go


Keith Kellerman entered his brother’s house, quietly, searching for the corpse.  He found it in the front parlor.  His brother, Robert, was sitting slumped over in his favorite chair.  It was evening, dark now, and Kellerman hadn’t bothered to switch on any lights.  The room was in shadows, yet Kellerman recognized Robert’s outline perfectly.  That was his older brother there, slumped over, dead. Robert was an old man, seventy-nine years old, yet he’d been healthy before this.  Kellerman wasn’t far behind his brother in age: himself seventy-five, yet now it looked as if he’d be the last.  Moving closer, he knelt down next Robert.  He felt for a pause.  Nothing.  He felt for a breath.  Nothing.  Yes, Robert was truly gone.

Kellerman grinned.

_ _ _ _

 

Over the years, the great many years that made up their lifetimes, Kellerman had grown to despise his older brother.  For as long as he could remember, Robert had been the stand out.  Robert was always the smartest.  Robert was always the fastest.  Robert got whatever he wanted, while Kellerman lived in obscurity, forever in second place.  It was Robert who was sent to the best schools.  It was Robert who gained success as a wealthy industrialist, while little Keith Kellerman had to tag along on his brother’s heals, contending himself with being his brother’s servant.  He’d done just that, spending the

best years of his life serving his wealthy older brother, constantly playing second fiddle and hating every moment of it.

Kellerman had sworn that he would someday live to see his brother buried.  Then two months ago, he’d gotten the word from his doctor that he had cancer.  Cancer!  Sure enough, Robert, though older, was still in perfect health.  All his life, Kellerman had lived for the day when his older brother would be dead, and gone, and he’d be the only one left.  Now it seemed as if Robert was also going to enjoy the privilege of being the last to go.  Kellerman couldn’t allow that.  Somehow, Robert would have to die first.





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