As Brave As You

“We weren’t trying to keep anything from you…It’s just that he made me promise a long time ago never to tell anyone he was blind. No one. Not even you two. It’s something he likes to do himself after he’s met the person. That way they don’t just come into his house thinking of him as, well, handicapped.” 

Brooke’s pride and desire for self-definition dictates how he relates to the world. Rather than being perceived as “handicapped” and therefore weak or lacking in some way, he wants people to get to know him on his own terms. Brooke’s desire to have his grandsons’ respect and admiration shows how important his relationships with them are, although this subtext is not acknowledged on the surface.  

“He ran behind the car for as long as he could, until it hit the slope and began bumping down to the bottom. The hill was so steep that from where Genie was standing, it looked like his parents had just driven off a cliff. He tipped to the edge and watched the brake lights blinking on and off until they disappeared.” 

The steep hill outside Genie’s grandparents’ house is a physical barrier—the house perches at the top of the hill surrounded by trees and hills rather than neighbors. Genie imagining his parents driving off the cliff signals his awareness of their marital problems and the emotional impact of them leaving. Although Genie is on the cusp of adolescence, he is still a child who relies on his parents for safety and comfort.

“He turned to open the refrigerator door, and that’s when Genie noticed something was sticking up from the back of his pants like a short tail. Oh…my…G—it was a pistol—the handle of a pistol! Genie had never actually seen a gun in real life, just on the cop shows Ma was always watching, or in movies—action flicks, sci-fi flicks, and even the scary flicks Genie and Ernie weren’t supposed to be watching. Genie was as curious about that pistol as he was about the honey badger.” 

Genie’s first glimpse at Brooke’s pistol shows his immediate curiosity about the gun. He associates firearms with the fantastical, unreal world of movies, or with something equally removed from his everyday life—the exotic honey badger. This mindset will soon change into a new respect and caution for firearms after the shooting incident.

“Slices of lemon sloshed from side to side in the jug like little yellow lily pads in a brown lake as Grandpop reached into a cabinet a grabbed a glass jar, an empty one, first try. Running his hand along the mouth of the jar, he started pouring the tea in. Perfectly. Genie was back in staring mode as Grandpop lifted the jug higher and higher, a waterfall of tea all landing in the quickly filling jar. Just before it reached the very top, he stopped. He put the jug back in the refrigerator and set the jar in front of Genie. Without. Spilling. A. Single. Drop. Then he sat back down like it was no big deal. Whoa.” 

Early on in the boys’ stay, Brooke’s skill and dexterity impresses Genie. Genie has naively assumed that blindness comes with a certain set of weaknesses. He is surprised to learn that some of these assumptions are wrong.

“A small bird hopped along one of the wooden floor planks. It had deep-blue feathers along its back all the way down to its tail, which seemed to split in two like a snake’s tongue. The blue of the bird came up over its head and eyes like a hood, but under the beak and all along the chest the feathers turned reddish-orange. Genie had never seen a bird like it. He was used to pigeons, birds that matched the color of concrete. Nothing like this, a bird that matched the color of the sky and the country dirt. It pecked at something in between the cracks. Genie slowly squatted to get a better look without scaring it off. But of course that didn’t go as planned. In one quick, fluid movement, the bird lifted its head, turned it all the way around, spied Genie, and flew away.” 

Genie’s first encounter with a barn swallow is significant because of the role that the birds will play in the story. The bird is very different from the pigeons he sees in the city: Each bird’s coloring is appropriate for its surroundings. The bird’s disappearance when Genie tries to come too close foreshadows his failure to capture another swallow when Brooke’s dies.

“There’s something about calling out Brooklyn that makes you feel like you’ve grown a few inches, maybe sprouted some hairs on your chin, or an extra lump in your bicep. And when you say it, your whole body goes into the word.” 

Genie and Ernie tell Tess where they’re from, revealing significant things about their relationship with Brooklyn. Just saying the name makes them feel as if they’re older, taller, with developed facial hair and muscles. They express the empowerment their home gives them through male physical attributes (facial hair, growth spurt, and muscles), which highlights the importance of masculinity in the book. 

“[H]e wondered what was in Grandpop’s cup. That vinegary smell sure wasn’t sweet tea. As a matter of fact, he didn’t really wonder what it was at all. He knew exactly what it was. That smell […] reminded him of Ms. Swanson, the drunk lady who hung out at the Laundromat back home.” 

When Genie first recognizes that Brooke drinks, he at first pretends not to know what alcohol is, but then states that he wasn’t confused at all, revealing his liminal state between childhood and adolescence. He uses his experience with the drunk woman to navigate and understand his new setting, key in coming-of-age stories. 

“He’s going to tell me a secret? Nobody ever told Genie secrets. Seemed like people were always keeping secrets from him. At least his parents were.” 

Genie feels that most adults around him don’t trust him with “adult” information, while he feels capable of handling such information and wants to be trusted and respected in that way. This is why he desires so much for Brooke to confide in him—Genie feels as though his grandfather respects and trusts him in a way that other adults don’t.

“Every couple of minutes they would hear gunshots. Crab. Genie flinched each time, but couldn’t stop thinking about how cool it would be to be out there shooting at stuff.” 

Genie has conflicted emotions about guns and shooting. The loud noise of the shot startles him and makes him uneasy, but he views shooting with fascination and curiosity. These emotions will change after the accident—he will reject of firearms—but at this point in the story, Genie is still grappling with the idea of being a real man, a concept he equates with independence and adulthood.

“‘It’s just, I’on’t know, my rainy day stash. Me and Mary got ours, which is really hers, and I got mine.” 

Brooke’s mistrusts sharing resources with and relying on his wife. He refuses to admit that she takes care of him, and here he describes a separate fund that he grows through a private, “man-to-man” agreement with Crab. Brooke believes masculinity depends on an independent, isolated existence, rather than on mutual support and trust. Later in the story, Brooke will grow closer to and be more willing to recognize the support of others. At the end of the book, he will give this money to Genie’s father, making it a symbol of his trust.

“Genie wanted to tell Ernie about the snake thing, but he was scared that Ernie would start asking questions and then Genie would let Grandpop’s secret slip. So he just looked out for snakes for the both of them.” 

Genie and Ernie exhibit mutual care toward each other: They have achieved a level of emotional closeness that allows Genie to predict Ernie’s behavior. Unwilling to betray his grandfather’s confidence, Genie continues to keep Brooke’s secret, even though he’s tempted to share his knowledge of his grandfather with Ernie. 

“But Genie thought it sounded pretty awesome. Weird, but awesome. Binks reminded Genie of those people he saw performing on the A train, the people who just didn’t care about what anybody thought, just doing their thing no matter what. There was something really cool about that.” 

Genie and Ernie gain a sense of pride from being associated with their Brooklyn home and have a group identity as Brooklynites. However, Binks’s autonomy and individualism also intrigues Genie. As a pre-adolescent, Genie weighs these conflicting values. 

“Genie sized Ernie up just to make sure this wasn’t Ernie looking for another excuse to go visit Tess. But Ernie looked, yeah, earnest. And for the first time since Genie’d found [the dead swallow], his stomach unknotted, just a tiny bit, but still. Ernie was looking out for him. And that helped.” 

When Genie is feeling especially anxious about the swallow he has accidentally killed, he relies on Ernie to help him. The brothers’ relationship is built on trust and closeness. The new addition of Tess into the boys’ inner circle at first makes Genie jealous, but he’s soon reassured that just because Ernie likes Tess doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about Genie anymore.

“Great Grandpop killed himself? Genie’s brain started throbbing…whoa—Grandpop locked himself in a room too. With birdcages! There wasn’t any tree pushing through the floor, thankfully, but Grandpop did lock himself inside. And he was scared to go outside. Genie felt like his brain was exploding; Grandpop was literally the king of Pete and Repeat. Way better than him and Ernie. Maybe even way better than everyone!” 

Genie sees the similarities between his grandfather and great-grandfather, recognizing patterns of guilt, rumination, and isolation—they are emblems of “Pete and Repeat.” Genie now begins to understand the fundamental similarities between children and adults, the existence of dilemmas and issues in their lives, and the methods they may choose to cope with difficulties. 

“Ernie looked up in alarm. Genie looked up too, but he was excited—excited to finally know what Grandpop had shushed Crab about a while back, and what he’d been so dang excited about every. Single. Day.”

Genie senses Brooke’s excitement about Ernie’s birthday, although he doesn’t know why. Genie awareness of this excitement shows that Brooke is still influential to Genie. This dynamic drives the story as Genie ponders whether to accept Brooke’s vision of masculinity. 

“How could Ernie not want to learn how to shoot? He closed the door. He sure wanted to learn how to shoot. He opened the door. If Ernie didn’t learn, then how would Genie ever get to see how it was done? He closed the door again.” 

Genie repeatedly shutting and opening the model fire-truck’s door indicates his restlessness as he struggles with the question of the gun. He fails to understand Ernie’s lack of interest in the shooting ritual, introducing an important divide between the two brothers. 

“Everything Genie wanted to do to help he knew probably wasn’t a good idea. Like saying anything. What was there to say? I’m mad at myself for wanting you to learn how to shoot? I’m mad at Grandpop for making you do it?”

After the shooting accident, Genie expresses his complex emotions—a mark of emotional maturity. He blames his grandfather for encouraging Ernie to go through with the ritual, and himself for feeling and showing his eagerness to his brother. Genie recognizes the influences of various people on Ernie and is remarkably clear-sighted about his own involvement.

“As far as he was concerned, this was pretty much mostly Grandpop’s fault. How come Grandpop couldn’t tell Ernie was scared? How come he couldn’t hear that? But as mad as Genie was at Grandpop, the truth of it was he was also mad at himself. He knew Ernie had been scared, but he’d egged him on anyway. So Genie knew that he had messed up too, and not just with Ernie. The only difference was Grandpop didn’t know about some of it.” 

Genie gains a deeper understanding of Brooke’s responsibility as the adult. Still, Genie continues to blame himself for encouraging Ernie to participate in the shooting ritual. His guilt connects to his guilt over accidentally killing his grandfather’s bird (the thing that “Grandpop didn’t know”)—he must resolve both issues before he leaves Virginia.

“Grandpop went back to breaking the gun down. Genie could smell the liquor. He looked at the pieces of gun on the table and realized that it was the first time he didn’t want to touch it. Not even a little bit. He didn’t have any questions that he wanted to ask about it.” 

Genie has gone from fascination over his grandfather’s gun, to guilt over his involvement in the shooting, to wariness and caution about firearms in general. For the first time, he wholeheartedly views the gun in a negative light. He also rejects Brooke’s definition of the ritual as a coming-of-age requirement, signaling that he’s learned to critically examine the values of adults through the lens of his own experience.

“Genie thought about Ernie. About how Ernie always did everything first, just to make sure it was okay. From simple things like tasting the weird foods first, to being in the front when they were walking through the woods. Or even back in Brooklyn, how Ernie always took up for Genie, fought his fights. Even the ones that didn’t have to be fights, Ernie fought those, too. And now Genie wondered if Ernie had taken the hit for him. If Ernie knew that because Genie was fascinated by learning to shoot, he would test it out for him. Make sure it was okay. Even if that meant doing something he didn’t want to do. Something he was scared to do. He wondered.” 

Genie sees his interest in shooting from Ernie’s point of view. This dynamic makes it clear that Ernie is as observant of Genie’s emotions as Genie is of his. It also makes Ernie’s motivations for going through with the shooting more complex—egged on by Crab’s taunts and Brooke’s pressure, he tried to be a good brother by giving Genie the chance to watch the shooting.

“After everything that had happened, Genie wanted nothing to do with guns anymore anyway. EVER. He was over it. No guns. He figured he would just ask his mom and dad to sign him up for karate class too. Y’know, Pete and Repeat style.” 

Karate is a self-defense alternative to the shooting skills Brooke advocates. While helping Ernie feel more empowered and confident, it does not have the same potential for violent accidents that firearms do. Genie’s desire to enroll in karate class indicates that he has left behind his curiosity about guns, and from Brooke’s ideas of manhood.

“[Genie’s grandmother] brought a stack of T-shirts to the blue bureau and glanced at the truck for a moment, but didn’t seem to notice it had been fixed, maybe because the piece of the original wheel was still on the dresser. But that was fine with Genie, because it wasn’t like the truck was back to normal. It wasn’t like Grandma was going to be able to ignore the plastic button that was slightly larger and slightly thinner than the original wheel. Genie just wanted to fix it, and let it be fixed. Just to correct the mistake. And he’d done that. Best as he could. So he was good.” 

Genie has done everything he could to repair the damage to the fire truck, and is at peace. He realizes that the truck isn’t “back to normal”, but the act of trying helps him feel better, a strategy that he will later apply to the incident with the swallow.

“To Genie, that was one crazy statement. Being blind had to be bad. You couldn’t see. And when he thought about all the things he was lucky to see, like stars, and model cars, and Shelly, he knew for a fact Grandpop couldn’t have meant that. But then again after seeing Grandma’s face when she was disappointed, and his mother’s always-exhausted expression, and imaging how Grandpop’s face was going to melt when he found out about [the swallow Genie accidentally killed]…Genie could sorta understand.” 

Until now, Genie has thought about his grandfather’s disability in terms of what it denies Brooke. Now Genie shows that he’s capable of understanding that it also helps his grandfather avoid some unnecessary pain.