John rang the doorbell and it made a dull, not proper, sound as if too tired to call.

John frowned. He liked it when things went right. He liked things to be proper. His whole life he tried to live up to high standards and the doorbell’s indifference irritated him.

Betty, a woman in her 70s, opened the door:

“Oh, I’m so glad you managed to come”, Betty said sincerely, apparently not expecting her husband’s brother.

“You should fix your doorbell. Also, you should have called me earlier”, the condemning, ice-cold tones in John’s voice made Betty stare at him. “Where is he?”

“James is in the hospital now. It will be open for visitors tomorrow morning”.

“I almost forgot how small your house is. How do you live here!” John shrugged his shoulders in frustration and went into the living room where the whole family and even some strange faces he didn’t recognize were gathered.

The dinner was quiet and simple. Betty bustled in the kitchen and ate almost nothing; her adult children Sam and Sean tried — unsuccessfully — to smooth over the uneasy silence after John’s words, which dropped like heavy stones into the already dismal atmosphere.

“Where did you go on your last holiday? I hope you had a chance to visit Europe! It’s essential for your grandkids’ development to align with a high standard of culture and education”, all such questions hung in the awkward silence, but John failed to notice it.

He took his iPhone out of his pocket and started poking and prodding the screen — clumsily, in typical old-man fashion — trying to open Instagram.

“Look, there are my grandchildren skiing in Switzerland”, he pointed to the picture on his phone. Then with a little delay he raised his eyes to Betty:

“He’s doing what now?”

Betty instantly understood that John was speaking about her husband, his brother James:

“He still works… worked… in the same places. As a chess instructor and an accountant”.

“So unambitious. He’s never changed, has he?”

“Good job too! He saved my life, playing chess with me”, retorted one of the suspicious friends. “If there were no James, I might’ve ended up on the street”.

“How does that make him ambitious?” John threw a contemptuous look at the guy with the dubious long hair who was saved through learning chess. “I, for instance, participate in managing chess tournaments for the city council”.

***

Next day, in the early morning, John was at the hospital. Having explained how the form should be filled in to the girl at reception, he went to the hospital ward to see his brother.

John was not prepared for what he saw and for the first moment since yesterday he felt uncomfortable.

He hesitated a little, then sat on the bed and stared at his brother, entangled with wires and lying there, eyes closed.

John coughed in an attempt to smooth over the awkwardness of the situation.

“Bedridden. Do you now see where your actions have led you? I told you visiting doctors regularly never hurts. Every year, after Christmas, I plan my appointments. Why did you not do the same?”

He tried to sit more comfortably, feeling either angry or vexed at this dying man helpless in his illness.

“You know, I bought a new house. Eleven hundred square meters and a huge garden. Ellen knows how to organise this garden-thing… Do you remember that it was you who met Ellen in the first place? She was a beauty in those days… And yet she chose me. How long had you been dating? Wait… 5 or 6 days? Yes, about that”, said John proudly.

“Oh, and my granddaughter is in ballet school now. Yours does not seem like much of a dancer, though if she loses some weight… I’ll tell Betty to watch her diet closely”, James nodded his head as if the help he offered was substantial and the dying man should be grateful to him.

Then John became silent for a while.

“Do you remember how hungry we were after our tennis classes? Actually, it was uncomfortable for me: those classes never fitted my schedule and I had to study all night long on match days. Hmmm… It never occurred to me as to why I started to play tennis? You started to play first and I… Hmmm…”

“Well, that’s a lifetime ago now…”, John kept silent for a while and looked at his wristwatch. He couldn’t just go away now after spending only 10 minutes with his brother.

“Hmmm… Do you remember our bands? Your group never reached great heights, though. Mine, on the other hand, was recognized, remember? Although, I stopped playing after school and lost the connection with the band… However, I wish you could’ve been more successful in your profession”, John abruptly changed the subject. “We graduated from the same university, took the same courses, but look at me. I am the leading auditor for the world’s largest insurance company”.

He said the last words with a level of reverence, as if they were to inspire both the sick brother and himself. But for some reason these words didn’t encourage him this time. This monologue, this comparison of hobbies, bands, wives, houses, jobs… Something had been missed here. Something that matters. An exhausting race of trying to outdo his brother flashed before John’s eyes. This one-man-race left just a narrow lane, all that was left of John’s long life, the lane intended for another man. In the relentless attempts to catch up to his brother, to live up to one’s high standards, he never stopped to ask himself who he is and what he really wants.

“So, and what now?” said John loudly. “If you go away, what… what am I going to do?”

As if it was a reply, John felt how his brother’s fingers squeezed his hand. And so much tenderness, compassion for him — a healthy and yet strong man — was in this gesture, that John’s body became limp and burning tears streamed down his old, wrinkled face. For a long time, this dead man, who had lived someone else’s life, cried near his dying, but truly alive brother.