Mc: four years old.
Caleb: seven years old.
the art of saying yes. ヾ(＾-＾)ノ YES!
The love Caleb had for his sister showed itself in many ways, In the kisses he gave her every night, in the way he protected her from any real or imaginary danger, in the infinite patience with which he explained the world to her, but perhaps the purest form of that love was seen in something simpler: in how he let Mc do whatever she wanted with him.
There were no limits. No conditions. Mc wanted something, Caleb said yes.
It began with the nails. Mc was four years old when she discovered colored nail polishes, Josephine had some saved in a drawer, leftovers from times when she had time to paint them, Mc found them one afternoon and her eyes lit up as if she had found a treasure.
—Jojo, what’s this? —she asked, showing a bottle of pink.
—Nail polish, my love, for painting nails.
—Can I?
—Sure, but carefully.
Josephine sat her at the table, painted her toenails first —because Mc couldn’t stay still with her hands— and then her fingernails, Mc watched the process with absolute fascination, watching how the brush left a shiny trail on her tiny nails.
When they finished, Mc held her hands out in front of her, amazed.
—Caleb —she called— Look!
Caleb came over to see, her nails, small and perfect, shone a bright pink.
—They’re pretty, princess.
—Do you like it?
—Yes.
Mc smiled, then she looked at Caleb’s hands, his nails, short and clean, were completely bare.
—Caleb —she said, a new idea shining in her eyes— Can I paint yours?
Caleb hesitated for a second, boys his age didn’t paint their nails, the boys at school made fun of things like that, but then he saw the hope in Mc’s eyes, the pure excitement, and he knew there was nothing to argue about.
—Okay, princess.
Mc jumped for joy, Josephine handed her the nail polish and Mc began her work.
It was not a clean job, the brush trembled in her small hand, the polish went outside the nails, stained her fingers, left drops on the table, but Mc was completely focused, her tongue sticking out from the corner of her lips, putting all her effort into making it look nice.
Caleb did not complain. He did not say "be careful" or "you’re getting it on me." He just left his hands on the table, still, waiting.
When Mc finished, Caleb’s nails were a mess, the polish was uneven, there were stains on his fingers, some nails had more color than others, but Mc looked at them with pride.
—They look pretty —she declared.
—Very pretty —Caleb confirmed.
And so, with his nails painted pink, Caleb went to his room to read, the next day, when the kids at school made fun of him, he just said "my sister painted them" and added nothing else, he did not take them off until Mc wanted to paint them another color.
That was the first time. Then came the hair.
Mc had seen Josephine brush her hair many times, but she had never tried to do anyone else’s hair, one Saturday morning, while Caleb was reading on the sofa, she came over with a brush in her hand.
—Caleb —she said.
Caleb looked up, he saw the brush, he saw the determination on her face.
—You want to do my hair? —he asked.
—Yes.
Caleb closed the book, he sat on the floor in front of her and waited.
Mc positioned herself behind him because that was how Josephine did it, the brush was big for her hands, but she held it with determination and began to brush.
It was not gentle, the brush tugged, tangled, sometimes got stuck. Mc pulled harder, not understanding why Caleb’s hair would not be tamed like hers.
—It’s not going —she said, frustrated.
—You have to start from the bottom —Caleb explained patiently— First the ends, then go up.
—The ends?
—Yes, that way it doesn’t hurt.
Mc tried it, this time it was better, the brush went through more easily, the tangles came undone little by little, Caleb did not complain, even though some tugs still pulled, he just waited, with his back straight, letting his sister learn.
When she finished brushing, Mc went around Caleb and stood in front of him.
—Now I’m going to put your hair in a bun —she announced.
—Okay.
Mc grabbed locks of hair that were not long enough for anything because Caleb had short hair, she twisted them, tied them with elastics that did nothing, pinned them with bobby pins that held nothing, the result was an impossible structure on Caleb’s head, a mix of standing-up hair, twisted elastics, and bobby pins about to fall out.
—Ready? —Mc asked, proud.
—Ready.
—Do you like it?
—I love it.
Mc smiled and gave him a kiss.
Caleb went to his room with that ridiculous bun on his head, Josephine saw him pass by and laughed.
—You let her do that?
—Yes.
—And you’re going to go out like that?
—If Mc wants me to go out like that, yes.
Josephine shook her head, smiling, and let it go.
They did not go out that day, but if they had, Caleb would have worn that bun with pride.
Next came the makeup.
Josephine had a small box of makeup that she barely used: colored eyeshadows, lipsticks, blush. Mc found it one day rummaging through drawers —because Mc rummaged through drawers, it was her specialty— and came out of Josephine’s room with the box in her hands and an ear-to-ear smile.
—Caleb —she called.
Caleb was in the living room finishing his homework, he looked up and saw the box.
—What’s that, princess?
—Makeup Jojo’s, to make us pretty.
Caleb knew that look, It was the look of "I’m going to do something and you’re going to say yes."
—You want to put makeup on me?
—Yes.
Caleb put his homework aside, he sat on the floor in front of her and waited.
Mc opened the box and studied its contents with the seriousness of a scientist, there were blue, green, pink shadows, red lipstick, pink lipstick, clear gloss, powder blush, eyeliners.
—Close your eyes —she ordered.
Caleb obeyed.
He felt the first touch on his eyelids, something soft, round, that left a damp feeling, It was the eyeshadow, though he did not know what color, then another color on top,then another, Mc mixed without any sense of aesthetics, just putting on colors that she thought were pretty.
—Open.
Caleb opened his eyes, Mc looked at him with satisfaction.
—Now I’m going to put lipstick on you.
She painted his lips bright red, then she put blush on his cheeks, lots of blush, until his cheekbones looked like two red apples, then, because she found a black eyeliner, she drew whiskers on him.
—Done —she announced.
Caleb looked in the mirror she handed him, his face was a collage of colors, his eyelids mixed blue, green, and pink in a combination no professional artist would have approved, his red lips contrasted with his equally red cheeks, the black whiskers completed the look.
—Do I look pretty? —he asked.
—You are the prettiest —Mc said, convinced.
—And you? Aren’t you going to put makeup on yourself?
—Yes, but you first.
Caleb waited while Mc put makeup on herself, she did it with less care than she had put into him, getting it all over her face without worrying, when they finished, the two were unrecognizable.
—Caleb —Mc said, looking at him— We look the same.
—We look the same.
—Can we show Jojo?
—We can.
They went downstairs together to the kitchen, Josephine was preparing snack time, when she saw them, she stood with the spatula in the air.
—What...?
—We made ourselves pretty —Mc explained.
Josephine opened her mouth, she closed it, then, with the same seriousness with which one receives an ambassador, she said:
—You look beautiful.
Mc smiled, radiant, Caleb smiled too, behind his black whiskers.
—Can I take a picture of you? —Josephine asked.
—Yes —the two said at the same time.
Josephine took out her phone and photographed them, Mc with her face full of colors, Caleb with his whiskers and his rainbow eyelids, both smiling as if nothing in the world was more important than that moment.
Afterwards, Josephine helped them clean up, Mc complained a little —she wanted to keep her whiskers— but in the end she accepted.
—Tomorrow I’ll put other ones on you —she promised.
—Okay —said Caleb— Tomorrow you’ll put them on me.
And so the days went by, every time Mc had a new idea, Caleb said yes.
Once, Mc wanted to dress him in her dresses, Caleb put on a pink one with ruffles and walked around the living room as if nothing.
Another time, Mc wanted to braid his short hair, Caleb sat patiently while she tugged at his locks, tied elastics that held nothing, and in the end declared that it was perfect.
Another time, Mc wanted to put stickers on his face, Caleb ended up with stars on his cheeks, hearts on his forehead, and a smile on his lips.
He never complained, he never said no, he never looked uncomfortable, even if the braids pulled, even if the dresses were too small, even if the stickers itched.
—Caleb —Josephine asked him once— Does it never bother you that Mc does whatever she wants with you?
Caleb looked at her with his violet eyes.
—No —he said— It’s her.
—And what does that mean?
—It means that if she’s happy, I’m happy.
Josephine felt her heart swell.
—Even when she paints whiskers on you?
—Especially when she paints whiskers on me.
Josephine laughed and hugged him tight.
—You are a good brother, Caleb.
—I’m her boyfriend —he corrected with a small smile— That’s more important.
One night, before sleeping, Mc was in her bed with Copito (her stuffed bunny), Caleb went to tuck her in like always.
—Caleb —she said.
—Tell me, princess.
—Why do you let me do everything with you?
—What thing?
—Paint your nails, do your hair, put makeup on you, put dresses on you.
Caleb sat on the edge of the bed.
—Because I like it.
—You like me painting your nails?
—I like that it’s you who paints them.
—And doing your hair?
—I like that you do my hair.
—Even when I make mistakes?
—Even when you make mistakes.
Mc looked at him intently.
—Caleb —she said— Do you do these things because you like them or because you love me?
Caleb smiled.
—Both, I like you doing things to me because I love you, and I love you because I like you doing things to me.
Mc processed the information.
—It’s like kisses —she said.
—Like kisses.
—I like kisses because they’re yours, and you are mine.
—Always yours.
Mc smiled and gave him a kiss.
—Good night, Caleb of the whiskers.
—Good night, makeup princess.
Mc fell asleep with a smile, and Caleb stayed for a moment looking at her, his sister, his princess, the only person in the world for whom he would put on a pink dress, paint his nails red, draw whiskers on his face, and walk around the living room with braids in his short hair.
All for her, always for her.
And while she slept, he went downstairs and found Josephine watching television, sat beside her and rested his head on her shoulder.
—Everything okay, my love? —she asked.
—Everything okay —said Caleb— Mc is happy.
—And you too.
—Yes, me too.
Josephine hugged him and they stayed like that, in silence, as the night fell around them.
Somewhere in the house, the nail polishes waited for another day, the brush was ready for another hairstyle, the makeup rested in its box.
And Caleb, the serious boy with violet eyes, was already ready to say yes once more.
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