Free The Season of Migration by Nellie Hermann Page A

the light?”
    Theo shook his head. “No,” he said, “I came because I wanted to see you for myself, and to see this place you have been living in.” He took a step closer. “But now that I do, I think that maybe our parents are right to be worried.”
    Vincent, stunned, speechless, turned and started to walk away from his brother. A thread was broken. Inside his head a dark cloud rolled in, turning all of his thoughts to black. His brother had come here on bad faith.
    â€œVincent,” Theo called after him, still standing where he had been, “don’t run from me. I’m still your brother.” He started to walk after Vincent. “But come,” he called, “really, what is your plan? You have not told me what your plan is; all afternoon we’ve been talking but you haven’t said. What will you do next? You can’t stay here forever, living off Ma and Pa, you must know that.”
    The sun was sending blinding arrows of light off the quiet tracks where the mining carts had once moved. Vincent stopped walking but did not turn back.
    â€œIt has been over a month since your dismissal,” said Theo, his voice quieter now, “isn’t that right? And what have you been doing since then?” He paused, but Vincent didn’t answer or move. “I come to visit you and you don’t say a word of what has happened; all you do is show me this place as if it is glorious. But Vincent, it is not glorious! It is a sad place, Vincent, and you no longer have a job to do here. Why do you remain? What is there here for you?”
    Vincent turned back to Theo. He could feel the blood in his face, the warmth on his cheeks familiar from whenever he exercised strenuously, particularly in the sun. He struggled to get the words out, pushing them from deep in his throat. “What would you have me do?”
    They stood face-to-face by the fence that led into the mine. The grass was overgrown and reached to their calves. “There are a million things to do!” Theo said, throwing out his hands. “So you won’t be a preacher; so you’ll try something else! It doesn’t have to mean everything. I know a man who is a successful carpenter, I’m sure he’d take you on as his apprentice. You could learn the trade of a bookkeeper, a lithographer, a baker. How about a painter? How about a businessman?”
    â€œA businessman?” Vincent was aghast; he couldn’t begin to attempt to argue with this. Theo smiled then, but it was a cold smile, the smile of a stranger who politely steps over a dog he does not like. “Well, perhaps not a businessman. But I’m just trying to say that you have choices. You’re only twenty-six; you’re young; you can still do nearly anything. But what do you gain by idling around? What do you gain by staying here, with nothing to do? You’re not seeing things straight, Vincent. This is not your home. You’re only making yourself miserable, staying here, when there is nothing here for you, as well as making our parents worry.”
    Again, their parents. Again, the burden he was for others. Vincent felt a strange sensation, his skin beginning to feel cold while the inside of him grew hotter. He steadied himself on the fence, feeling the enormous urge to run, or to crouch his body down so small, he might disappear.
    â€œVincent,” Theo said, his voice grown quieter again. “I know it has been a long road that brought you here. I remember the year you spent studying for that evangelical degree in Amsterdam, I remember the training school in Brussels after that, and I know that all you’ve wanted for a long time is to bring the word of God to the poor. I can’t imagine how it must feel now that it is all over. But how can I understand if you don’t tell me about it?” He paused. “Come,” he said again, “don’t you want improvement in your life? Don’t