Kastor and Pollux
Chi Tran
“Kastor! I’ve just received news that Father has passed away.”
Kastor looked at his older brother in disbelief. “But I saw him just yesterday. He seemed
healthy and –”
“And he was also ninety–five, let’s not forget,” Pollux said, mentally rolling his eyes.
Kastor sighed. “I guess you’re right . . .”
“Any who, the poor man didn’t leave us much – just that little house he’s been living in
and a piece of land.”
“Which did you want? I’m fine either way.”
“Well, I’m sure he would have wanted me to have the land,” Pollux said automatically.
Although they both knew that the land was rich and could turn a profit, Kastor did not try
to reserve it for him and his wife. Instead, he was content with inheriting his father’s humble,
straw–roofed house. His conniving older brother, on the other hand, was more than happy to
snatch the land from under his own brother’s nose. He and his wife were going to be rich, and
that was all that mattered. With that, the brothers came to an agreement and both went their
separate ways – Pollux, home, and Kastor off to make arrangements for his father.
The hot summer sun was mercilessly beating down on everything that was exposed. It
was a dry and sticky kind of heat, the worst kind.
“I stopped by your house this morning but didn’t see you there. Mister H said that I’d
find you here,” his brother called out to him.
“Yeah, I’m working. Miss Liz is old now, and she can’t get her own water from the well
anymore so she hired me for cheap to help her out,” he said, lifting his cotton shirt to wipe the
sweat that ran down the side of his face.
“Oh,” Pollux said, unable to hide his disapproval.
Work for hire? Pollux thought. Laboring for other people? How disgusting.
“Well, why don’t you come by the house with me? I can come back for Miss’ Liz water
later. She won’t mind.”
Pollux nodded and they both made their way back to their father’s old house.
“They tell me you’ve done real good for yourself,” Kastor said along the way.
“I’ve made a lot of money from selling all those crops. I even built me a nice, new
house,” he bragged.
“And speaking of house, here we are.”
“Is that–is that a hole in your roof?”
Kastor scratched his black head of hair, embarrassed. “It’s a straw roof covered with
some leaves – it’s not going to last forever. I just haven’t been making enough to buy the stuff I
need to fix it.”
Pollux tried not to show his disgust as he looked around. He was not impressed, to say
the least. How could his brother live this humbly and be okay with it?
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