“Keepin’ up, Flim?”
Flim and Flam raced down the deserted streets, kicking up dust in their wake, every so often glancing over their shoulders to see if that crowd from the Ponyville swim meet was on their tail.
Flim nodded at his brother, his chest starting to cramp from all this unexpected exercise. “Keepin’ up, Flam,” he said, between wheezing breaths.
Flam cracked a smile, his mustache blowing ludicrously in the wind, and laughed.
Soon the brothers reached the little bed and breakfast they’d been staying at, a one-story building painted a sweet, vaguely alarming pink. Quaint little place, Flim thought distractedly as he and Flam burst through the front door. And, importantly, much more comfortable than a tent.
The door opened with a bang, causing the middle aged mare standing behind the counter to jump about a foot in the air.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. What’s-Your-Name,” said a breathless Flam, rushing past her. “My brother and I are checking out early.”
As Flam vanished into their room, Flim leaned onto the counter and gave the mare a smile that was all charm and sweat. “If you’d be kind enough to ring up the bill, we’ll get out of your hair, lickity-split.”
The mare stammered for a moment, brushing a strand of purple mane out of her eyes. “Of course, I, um - If you’d like to stay for lunch, I just dropped off some sandwiches in your –”
“Yes!” cried Flam from the other room. “Yes, ma’am, we’ll happily take these on the go.” Flam emerged again, a beaten-up suitcase in each hoof, and half a sandwich in his mouth. He tossed a suitcase to Flim, who caught it deftly. “You sure do make a fine eggplant sandwich, ma’am,” Flam said, spraying crumbs onto the floor.
The mare gawked at him and blinked. “Thanks.”
“You’ve been a lovely host, my dear,” said Flim, already halfway out the door. “We’ll be sure to tell all our friends.”
“Friends, family, outright strangers!” said Flam, following close behind. “The blueberry waffles were particularly flawless. So long, and have a wonderful evening!”
And then the Flim Flam Brothers were gone, trotting around to the back of the building, where their old covered wagon sat inconspicuously in the shade of tall maple tree.
No sooner had Flim set eyes on the wagon then he heard a dim cry rise up behind him, back inside the bed and breakfast:
“Hey! Wait a minute, you two!”
Flim skidded to a halt.
“Oh – gimme a minute.”
He turned and flew back to the front door.
“Flim! Daylight’s wastin’!”
“Just a minute, I said!” Flim called over his shoulder.
He bounded up to the front door and pushed it open, nearly knocking the mare inside off her feet – she’d been coming out after them in pursuit.
“How careless of me!” Flim panted, rummaging around in his pockets, a few spare bottles of Curative Tonic knocking about inside. “Here you are…”
Finally he produced a bag of gold bits, which he dropped into the mare’s hooves before turning and trotting right back out the door. He turned a final time and tipped his hat to the bewildered and alarmed innkeeper. “Keep the change!” he said, just as he swung the door shut.
In no time at all, Flim was around back, hooking himself up to the front of the wagon, right at Flam’s side. Flam waited patiently, running a tiny fine-tooth-comb absentmindedly through his mustache (as he sometimes did when he was nervous).
Flim finished buckling up his harness, and stopped. He needed to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, took off his straw hat, and ran a hoof through his mane. Flim sighed.
And it was all going so well, he thought. It was almost perfect…
Flim felt a gentle elbow in his side, and opened his eyes. And there was Flam. Flam grinned a wide, sly grin, and pocketed his comb. Something twinkled relentlessly in his eye.
“Next town?” said Flam.
And suddenly, nothing that had happened in Ponyville mattered in the slightest. In spite of it all; in spite of himself; Flim looked into his brother’s eyes, and he was excited.
He beamed back at Flam, and donned his straw hat. “Next town!”
And then they were off, galloping out into the street, pulling their covered wagon together. In no time at all, Ponyville shrank into nothingness behind them. The Flim Flam Brothers, on the road again.
By the time the sun set, Flim and Flam had stopped for the night. They pulled their wagon onto the side of the road, in the middle of a vast plain that went on forever in every direction. There was no telling where the earth ended and the sky began. There was only the soft grass, and the stars.
As Flam magically lit a fire outside, Flim sat in the wagon, leaning over a small wooden chest. It was the first moment he’d had to relax since they’d arrived in Ponyville. (And even now, he still had a minor, tingling fear that a mob was marching in their direction. Stranger things had happened in the lives of traveling sales ponies.)
He gently fit a key into the worn brass lock on the box, and the lid swung open. With smiling eyes, Flim began to rifle through the letters inside.
Whenever he and Flam found a place where they could stay for a spell, Flim wrote a letter to Satin. Not a day on the road went by without Flim wondering when she would write him next, or how things were with her family, back in Fillydelphia.
He sifted through the pile, lifted up a yellowed square of paper, and skimmed it by the light of his horn.
… as soon as you get back, I’ll bake some for you! You’d better enjoy it – it was hard to come by. You haven’t met my Auntie Poppy Seed; she’s a jealous, shriveled old dragon who spends her days hoarding over her trove of family recipes. All the same, last night I finally snatched her caramel shortbread out from under her. It was a near thing, too. When she gave me a copy, something in the way she looked at me said, “You don’t fool me, I know you just want to get my recipes before I kick the bucket.” Thank goodness she’ll never know how right she is.
Anyway, write when you can! How’s Flam? Maybe I can finally set him up with one of my marefriends the next time you visit! Is the Squeezy 6000 running okay? Tell me everything! I’ll be waiting ever so patiently by the mailbox.
Yours,
Satin
P.S. And EAT! You’re skin and bones already – if you lose any more weight, I’ll absolutely explode.
Flim chortled at the fading ink. He remembered that caramel shortbread. Auntie Poppy Seed was now grazing in the big pearly pasture in the sky. But thanks to Satin, her family shortbread would live on. That’s my girl, thought Flim.
He put the letter back in its place in the stack. His eyes wandered to the top, to the whitest, most recent letter. Flim lifted it and read the final lines, for what must have been the fiftieth time.
I want you to be a part of my life, Flim. And I want to be a part of yours. Please come home as soon as you can. It’s been too long since I’ve seen your face. And when I last saw it, it was gone too fast, back out onto the road.
I’m not asking you to give up selling. It’s what you do and it’s what you love, I know. But you’re gone so often, and so long… and I’m afraid of what might happen to us.
We should talk about this in person. Let me know when you can get back to Filly. I’ll be waiting for you, and I’ll be thinking of you, and I’ll be wishing you all the best.
I love you.
Yours,
Satin
Flim and Satin had said “I love you” to one another before; that spell had long since been cast. No, it was another sentence that Flim returned to, again and again. “Please come home as soon as you can.” Up until now, it had always been, “Let me know when you can make it back to Filly,” or, “Try to make it back to Filly by the end of the month – my grandpop’s in town, he’s a riot!” Always Filly. Never home.
Please come home.
Home.
Satin was right. Selling was Flim’s life. It was what he did, it was what he loved. But now… and this was a feeling that had been growing for many months… Flim wanted something else in his life. He wanted to go back to Fillydelphia.
He wanted to marry Satin.
The sound of violent coughing broke through the canvas walls of the wagon, and released Flim from his reverie. He closed the box and went outside.
Flam stood by the now crackling fire, coughing violently into the crook of his foreleg. When the coughing had first started, months and months ago, Flim had been frightened; it always sounded like a lung was bound to come up. But soon enough, it was just another part of a day in the life.
Flim reached into the back of the wagon and pulled out a canteen, as per usual. He tossed it to Flam, who caught it reflexively in mid-cough. Soon the worst of it passed, and Flam was able to sit down on a log next to the fire and drink some water.
Flim conjured up another log out of the air, and sat down next to his brother. The night chill was setting in. They both warmed their hoofs on the fire.
“All right, brother of mine,” said Flim. “Just where are we headed, anyway?”
“Ooh, I’m not certain,” said Flam, eyes lost in the white-red coals. “I was expecting at least another week in Ponyville, I hadn’t given our next stop much thought. Another full week, at least!”
“At least.” Flim nodded.
It felt nice to sit down. Life was full of so much standing up, and running around. It was downright exhausting. But the night was cool, and the fire was warm, and oh boy, was it nice to sit down.
“Now,” said Flim, breaking the comfortable silence, “about this tonic racket.”
“Lay it on me, little brother.”
“Let’s say we can find a town nearby – I know the map’s around here somewhere – and start selling within the week. I guarantee you, it won’t be long before word starts coming in from Ponyville about our little disaster.”
“Don’t worry yourself, Flim – here, let’s take a look.” Flam took a folded map out of his pocket and snapped it open, holding it in front of Flim and himself. “We can always go somewhere a little more out of the way… If we circle around Everfree, we can get to Dodge City in a week and a half, then be up and running in another few days. That’ll give us some cushion time before any rumors about authenticity start trickling in. Deep breaths, little brother. Nothing we can’t handle.”
Flim nodded. Flam pocketed the map and stood. “I say it’s time for some supper,” he said. “What’ll it be? Roasted butternut squash, eggplant parmigiana, or beans?”
“My, what a variety,” Flim mused, stroking his chin. “Beans, thanks very much.”
Flam disappeared into the wagon, and emerged with two cans of beans. (It was all they had.) He sat, magically opened them and offered a can to Flim.
“I hope you don’t think I’m too nervous,” said Flim, as they both magically lifted their open cans over the fire. “Although, I did suspect that an outright lie could be dangerous, as you I’m sure you recall.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Flim.” Flam gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. “We came up with this tonic idea together. And a great idea it was! Much easier, by the way, than peddling around a high-maintenance cider machine. ”
Flim grimaced at the memory. Not so long ago, money had gotten very, very tight, and the brothers had ended up selling the Super Cider Squeezy 6000 for parts. A blow, to be sure – Flim and Flam had been proud of that machine. But the time had come to gamble. That’s life, Flim supposed. Sometimes you go all in, or you lose.
“Well,” Flim said, “say what you will about Cider Squeezy, but it was honest.”
“Sure it was. But you know what? I don’t think it was any more or less honest than the tonic.”
Flim looked over at his brother. “Really? At least when we told folks we were selling them cider, we were selling them cider.”
Flam smiled and shook his head, scratching at his mustache absently. “Look at it this way,” he said, magically lifting his beans off the fire. “We give people what they want. No ifs-ands-or-buts about it. And that, when you get right down to it, is a wonderful thing.”
Flim watched as Flam pulled a fork out of the air and started on his beans. A moment later, Flim collected his own beans and started eating, surprised at how hungry he was. The brothers ate their supper in silence.
Flam slept outside. He usually did. Flim decided to sleep in the wagon; the cold had started getting to him. Besides, it was nice, sleeping under a roof (of sorts).
Flim laid on his back, staring up at the canvas ceiling above him, thinking about why Flam slept outside, when it was so much more comfortable in the wagon.
There were a lot of things about Flam that Flim couldn’t quite understand.
Flim had been going steady with Satin for years. And before that, he’d certainly had the occasional marefriend, the occasional fling, passing through some town. But Flam was different. A lifelong bachelor, he kept himself to himself, always. It was as if Flam had no interest in mares, not when there was a product to be peddled. By some unspoken agreement, the brothers never talked about it.
It’s peculiar, thought Flim. But, that’s just Flam being Flam. Surely, when I tell him what I mean to do, he’ll understand. He’s never been anything but supportive of me. The best partner a pony could wish for.
But there was another thing about Flam. And it gave Flim some pause.
If I hadn’t turned around this morning, I don’t think Flam would have paid that mare at the bed and breakfast. I’m sure we both heard her calling us. But I don’t think he had any intention of turning back.
Did that make Flam a bad pony? Of course not.
Flam just knows what he wants.
Flim’s thoughts turned to Dodge City.
Dodge isn’t too far from Filly. At least, it’s a lot closer than where we are now. Tomorrow I’ll talk to Flam. And sometime very, very soon, I’ll be back with Satin.
Flim rolled onto his side, suddenly restless, suddenly slightly giddy.
I want to get married, he thought, clutching his cotton blanket around him. I’m going to marry Satin.
“I’m going to get married,” Flim whispered into the silence. An electric chill shot up his spine, and an inexplicable grin grew wide on his face.
I’m going to get married.
The next morning, a little after dawn, the Flim Flam Brothers were up and readying for the day. They had repositioned the covered wagon onto the endless dirt road, and were about ready to strap in and be on their way. Flim gargled his mouthwash behind the wagon; Flam was up in front with a dusty old hoof-held mirror, whistling and trimming his mustache with a tiny pair of scissors (a combination of activities that struck Flim as a little dangerous, but then, Flam proved him wrong every morning).
Finagling his bowtie into place, Flim found that he couldn’t resist, and started whistling along with his brother from the opposite end of the wagon. He felt like he could run a marathon – he felt like if he jumped, he would land on the moon.
Now, he thought. Right now, before we leave. I’ll tell Flam. Then we can figure everything out, and then I’ll have told someone! Why should I wait another second?
With a haphazard flourish, Flim finished tying his bowtie, and galloped hard around the wagon. Flam stood beside the harnesses, just finishing his morning trim as Flim reached him.
“Another day, another dusty road,” said Flam, tossing the scissors and the mirror into the wagon behind him. As he reached for the buckles on the closest harness, he looked at Flim’s face, and paused. “Now what in Equestria could possibly be the cause of that grin on your face?”
“Well,” said Flim, smiling all the wider (if that was possible), “I’ve got some news for you. Some big, exciting news.”
Flam chortled and started buckling himself in. “Big, exciting news,” he muttered. “Is it a new product? If you’re really that uncomfortable with the tonic now, that’s fine, but maybe we can wait until after Dodge City before we swap inventory?”
Flim reached into the front pocket of his shirt, and pulled out Satin’s last letter. He held it out to Flam.
Flam stopped again in his work. He eyed Flim’s face, full of an unusual joy, and he eyed the letter. Slowly he disentangled himself from his harness, and walked over to Flim.
“This is from Satin,” Flim said. “It’s the last thing she wrote me. I want you to read it, Flam.”
Flam’s brow furrowed. He took the square of paper from Flim’s hoof, and unfolded it.
He stood there for a moment, reading. When he was done, he quietly folded the paper again. “So,” he said, offering the paper back to Flim. “You want to go back to Fillydelphia again?”
Flim’s smile refused to fade, but suddenly, it felt like something small and heavy was settling in his stomach. Flam’s eyes were wrong. Implacable as stone.
Flim took the plunge. “Flam. I want more than that. I want her. I’ve decided to ask her to marry me.” He laughed into the bright morning air. “Look at this, Flam, your little brother’s gonna get married! I know we’ve talked before, about me and Satin, and I know I’ve been seeing her for years, but – it’s time. It’s long past time. And I swear to you, I’m gonna make you the proudest brother there ever was. And maybe one day, the proudest uncle, too!”
Flim felt like laughing again. But Flam was awfully quiet.
The brothers were silent for a moment. Flim rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof. “Gosh,” he said. “I know this seems sudden, but… Don’t you want to say anything?”
Flam stared at the ground. He opened his mouth, about to speak, then closed it again. A moment dragged on.
Finally, he lifted his head and looked Flim squarely in the eye.
“Good,” said Flam. He had never been looked more grim in his life. “That’s very good. I’m happy for you. Really – I don’t know what to say. Congratulations.”
Flam turned back to the harness and started fiddling with the straps again. Flim watched, the joy draining fast from his face.
“So,” said Flam, his back to his brother, “we’ll find a time to get you back to Fillydelphia. After Dodge City, we can move up the coast. You’ll be back with Satin in a month. Two tops.”
Flim watched his brother, stiffly working to attach himself to the wagon. “Actually,” said Flim, “I don’t want to wait that long. If you want, head down to Dodge. But I think I’ll strike out on my own. Maybe I can get to Filly in a week, five days if I’m – ”
“That’s not fair.” Flam turned his head and leveled his eyes with Flim’s. “Go get married, good, great – but you can’t leave me to do this next job alone, and you can’t just up and leave – no warning – no notice – ”
Flim felt as if something was squeezing the air out of his lungs as Flam’s voice rose. He took an involuntary step back. “Flam… just listen –”
“No, no; I think I understand very clearly – ” Flam wrenched himself away from the wagon’s harness again “ – that you’re leaving me high and dry. That’s not we do, Flim, that’s not what brothers do. You’ve got to meet me halfway here. Wait a couple of months, think it over. We’ll talk then. Okay?”
Flim’s eyes narrowed at his brother. “Wait just a minute,” he said, fighting for calm. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not asking for your permission. I’m not asking for your approval. What I’m doing is telling you about my life. I’m telling you what I’m going to do next.”
Flam gaped, eyes like saucers. “Don’t you dare,” he breathed, “make me the bad guy. I’m not your tyrant of an older brother, you’re not my poor oppressed victim. We’re partners. Partners, Flim! That’s what we’ve always been.”
“And we always will be – ”
“Oh! Really!” Flam cried, jaw clenched, walking toward his brother, now full-on yelling. “Then what are you doing? Answer me that. We’ve got a great thing going, and you’re giving it all up, and for what? This is our life, Flim! What happens to that? What happens to – ”
Suddenly, Flam’s breath caught in his throat. He started to cough, a deep, dark cough that was far too close to choking. He dropped to his front knees, face reddening, bent over himself in the dust.
In a flash Flim rushed to his brother’s side, put a hoof on his back – but Flam twisted away. By sheer force of surprise, Flim took a step back. He watched as Flam grew very still, kneeling in the road; collecting himself; mastering his breathing. Slowly he stood up, and the brothers faced one another.
Flam’s eyes watered . His chest heave, his neck bulged with tendons and veins. Flim stared, in a state of semi-shock.
Finally, Flim blinked away the confusion and took a breath. “Flam… pal… listen to me. And please know, right now, as I say this – I’m not angry.”
And Flim was surprised to find that that was true. He wasn’t angry at all. A part of him felt like crying. But he wasn’t angry.
Flim walked toward Flam. He put a gentle hoof on his brother’s rigid shoulder, and looked into his hard, brimming eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” said Flim. “I don’t know what’s put you in this state. But let me make you a promise. We’re brothers. Wherever we are, that won’t change. And this isn’t the end for us. You think you’ll never see me again? Hogwash! Of course I’ll still come sell with you once in a while. What, did you think I’d get a job behind a desk somewhere? I’d rather eat my legs.”
At that, Flam’s mouth twitched in the imitation of a smile. His face had softened considerably. A slight tremor came over his lower lip, hardly noticeable.
Choosing his words with the greatest care, Flim softly ventured on. “Nothing is more important to me,” he said, “than family. Without you, I’d be nowhere. And without Satin… I don’t know where I’d be. Life isn’t so long. I need to make enough time for everyone I love. For you. For Satin. For my family.”
For a moment, Flam seemed to be on the brink of something. And then, his face broke open, and he threw his front legs around his brother in a tight embrace. Flim returned the hug eagerly.
“We’re family,” said Flam, his voice broken by tears.
“We’re family,” Flim agreed, holding his brother as close as he could.
They stayed there, holding one another as if they were saying goodbye.
In time, Flam’s embrace loosed, and he pulled away from his brother, wiping his eyes with his foreleg. He gave a snort of laughter. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“No, Flam, no need to - ”
“Oh, you bet there’s a need.” Now a real smile spread over Flam’s face. “You’re… you’re gonna get married!” He turned away, and bellowed at the horizon: “My little brother’s getting married!” The words resounded in the vast expanse surrounding them, and Flim joined his big brother laughing.
Abruptly, Flam turned back to Flim, arranging his face into the most serious expression possible. “Unless, of course, she says no,” he said, “and then, wouldn’t we both feel silly.”
Flim took a moment to process this, and then, simultaneously, the both of them started absolutely howling with laughter. Flam doubled over, tears in his eyes. Flim just outright fell over onto the road. He struggled for breath. “Wouldn’t we… feel silly!” he gasped, between bouts of laughter.
This is absurd, thought Flim, in a state of semi-hysterics. But for some reason, neither of the two brothers could stop laughing. And somehow, Flim knew everything would be all right.
Eventually, Flim staggered to his feet, the last of the laughs escaping in giggles. Flam, lightly coughing again, lurched toward the wagon. “Ooh,” Flam murmured, “where’s the water when I need it.”
Flim followed close behind. “Really, Flam, you’d better take care of yourself when I’m away,” he said. “Maybe you’ll finally see a doctor about that cough?”
“Oh, brother of mine,” said Flam, reaching into the wagon and pulling out his canteen of water. “Let’s let sleeping dogs lie, just or a moment.” He took a swig. “I have my special ways of staying whole and healthy.”
“Well… If you had someone else with you, I’d feel better…”
Flim paused, realizing the subject he was about to broach. Not knowing where he was going, he felt the inexplicable urge continue. Normally, he wouldn’t. But at that moment, he felt like he could. This morning felt like the morning for laying things bare. So he went on.
“One day, I’ll bet you end up tying the knot yourself!” said Flim, keeping his smile firmly in place. “And I can’t wait to get an invitation.”
It seemed to take Flam a moment to understand what his brother had just said. Finally, with a strange, pensive look in his eye, Flam chuckled, and took a long swig from his canteen. “Ah, well,” he muttered.
A short silence followed. Flim nodded, his eyes suddenly drawn to his hooves. And for a fleeting instant, he felt something that he seldom felt around Flam. Discomfort.
Suddenly Flam clapped his hooves together, in an obvious attempt to break the strained silence. “So,” he said, “let me get the map.” He clambered into the wagon, and spoke as he rummaged through piles of clothes and crates of junk. “To tell you the truth, I don’t feel much like spending who-knows-how-many-months in Dodge City,” he said. “What I really feel like doing is escorting my little brother to Fillydelphia, and delivering him to his future wife.”
“You mean it?”
“Course I do! If you think I’m missing the proposal, you’ve got another thing coming. So be sure to make it a good one.”
Flam climbed out of the wagon, map in hoof, and once again began attaching himself to one of the wagon’s two harnesses.
Flim walked up beside him, and started buckling himself in. “But,” he said, as casually as he could, “do you think you ever will?”
“… Will what?”
“Get married? Maybe find a marefriend somewhere…”
Flam finished securing himself and suddenly became extremely interested in going over the map. “Oh, I don’t know, Flim,” he said. “Who really knows.”
It was the oddest thing. But Flim’s heart was beating much faster now than when Flam had been shouting like a lunatic, just moments ago. Wherever this talk was headed, the roads ahead were uncharted.
Flim looked over at his brother, who was still intently analyzing the map. “Flam,” he said, with some hesitancy, “don’t you want – and I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but… isn’t that something you want? A special somepony?”
Flim couldn’t believe what he’d just said. I don’t mean to pry. Insanity! They’d been living together all their lives! Why should anything be taboo?
Flam’s gaze had grown unfocused. He glanced over at Flim, and met his eyes. He seemed to contemplate something for a moment, and then, with a sigh, he folded the map, put it in his pocket, and turned his full attention to Flim.
“Flim,” said Flam, with a benign, somehow sad smile. “Answer me honestly. Do you really want to talk about this?”
Flim paused, caught for a moment by his brother's sudden candor – then stammered on. “I mean… sure, I do. I guess I just – well, that’s to say… I just want to know what you’re feeling, big brother. What you feel about…”
And then, for the first time, the heart of the matter swam into Flim’s mind, with plain, astonishing clarity. About mares, Flim thought. What you feel about mares. Or – what you don’t feel about them…
Flam waited, patient and expecting, resigned to their conversation as if its time had come.
“Is there something you want to ask me, Flim?” said Flam.
Flim looked at his brother, suddenly uncertain. Suddenly not sure if he wanted to know.
You’re my rock, Flam. No matter what, you’re my brother, but… Can’t you stay the way you were, the way I always thought of you…
“… No.” Flim looked down at the ground, embarrassed that he’d gone as far as he did. “I’m sorry, I… I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
Flim stared at the pebbles strewn around his hooves, acutely aware of his brother’s eyes on him, of every slowly passing second.
“… Okay, then.”
Flim looked up. Flam gave him a polite smile.
“All right,” said Flam, as if nothing had happened. “It’s a long way to Filly. Shall we?”
Flim nodded slowly, staring out at the road, dimly aware that he’d done something wrong. The brothers started walking, their wagon trailing behind them.
“Listen, Flim,” Flam said. “I know I can be overbearing, and I’m sorry. I guess it’s just that… This wagon is my life. And… I don’t dare to wish for anything else. But whatever happens with you, with Satin… be happy. I’m so glad you’ve found someone, Flim. All I want is for you to be happy. You deserve it.”
The sun rose higher in the sky, and the rays beat down with a comfortable warmth. Flim closed his eyes and sighed, thinking of everything he was leaving behind.
“Ah, brother of mine,” said Flim. “What’ll I ever do without you?”
“Don’t know, brother of mine,” said Flam. “But I suspect you’ll find out soon.”
And before the silence could settle again, Flam said:
“I’m so proud of you, Flim.”
Flim smiled, his eyes locked on the road ahead. He struggled for a brief moment to keep the tears down, and succeeded. “Thanks, Flam,” he said.
The Flim Flam Brothers kept on walking, over hills and plains, until the sun was gone, and they were lost over the horizon – vanished into the future.
