As I drove toward the diner, a wide array of thoughts flowed through my head. I thought back to my childhood, and saw the huge baseball diamond that my brother and I used to play on when we were kids. It was like a large green haven under the bright summer sky. Luis taught me everything I know on that field. He always taught me to try my best and no matter how many times I messed up, Luis was always patient. I looked up to Luis because he was more than my brother. He was my hero. That's why this was so hard. I wished I could have the patience now that my brother had with me then. Life is a lot easier when you're five and eleven than it is when you're twenty-six and thirty-two. Unfortunately, I had a job to do and this whole thing was tearing me up inside. Don't get me wrong: I loved my brother. If it came down to it, I would stop a bullet for him. But he's not above the law. Nobody is. I had heard enough of the rumors floating around the precinct, and even though this wasn't my case, I had to find out for myself. No cops, no outsiders. Just me and my brother. As I walked inside, I noticed that the diner was completely empty, save for a few waitresses joking around behind the counter. This was good, because being discreet was not my brother's strong point. If things got a little heated and I had to get rough, nobody would be in any danger. I could also hear the music of Depeche Mode blaring from the jukebox inside: *Morality would frown upon/ decency look down upon...the scapegoat fate's made of me...but I promise now, my judge and jurors, my intentions couldn't have been purer...my case is easy to see...* "Jake!" Luis called out from a booth on the other side of the room. "Over here!" I took a deep breath as I began to walk toward him, my heartbeat pounding with the intensity of a jackhammer. Mom, please forgive me, I kept thinking. Luis smiled, glad to see me. Little did he know that by the time the night was over, he would hate me for the rest of his life. "We need to talk." I said. "No problem, bro," he replied cheerfully. "Must be pretty important for you to call me up here this late. So, what can I do for one of New York's Finest? I always knew you'd make detective. Mom would be proud." The very mention of my mother made me want to pull out my gun and shoot myself right there. I could only imagine what she'd be thinking right now: Look, Jesus, there's my son. Doesn't he remind you of Judas? I did my best to ignore the comment and get to the point of my visit. "I need to ask you a few questions..." I continued. "Anything for you, bro." he replied. "Man, it feels like only yesterday that you and I were on that baseball field playing ball. If only Mom could see us now." Why is he doing this?, I asked myself. Nothing about this whole situation felt right. I thought I knew my brother. There was no way he could be a drug dealer, and there was no way he could be a killer. But my information was reliable, and whether I wanted to or not, I had to know the truth. "You remember that double murder a block away from your house a few days ago?" I asked. "Yeah, yeah." Luis replied, visibly annoyed. "Those guys were into some wild stuff, man. Drugs, guns, whores..." "I know you had them killed." The smile quickly disappeared from my brother's face. His eyes turned black and cold, a far cry from his usual buoyant disposition. "Who told you?" he asked angrily. "Do I look stupid to you?" I know exactly who you are, and exactly what you do. That whole area is your turf. You felt threatened, so you eliminated the competition!" I yelled. "I don't like your tone, little brother." he warned. "Don't start something you can't finish." "Get up, Luis. I'm taking you in." Luis slowly got up from his chair and stood in front of me, expressionless. As I reached into my back pocket for my handcuffs, his right fist exploded across my face with the force of a wrecking ball, sending me reeling across the floor. Everything in the diner came to a complete halt. I wiped the blood from my mouth as I slowly got back to my feet. "You'll have to kill me first, brother." Luis said, smiling. "Somehow, I knew you weren't going to make this easy." I replied. "Why the hell should I?" he yelled. "I can't believe you have the gall to try to arrest me! We're brothers! Doesn't that mean more to you than some job?" I didn't answer. How could I? In my head, I tried to tell myself: Do your job. But in my heart, I knew that excuse was just a bunch of bullshit. Luis was right. He was all the family I had left, and I couldn't imagine myself doing anything to physically hurt him. But he was leaving me no choice. And that music seemed to be getting louder than ever: *....You'll stumble in my footsteps/ Keep the same appointments I kept/ If you try walking in my shoes....try walking in my shoes...* "Don't make this harder than it already is." I pleaded. Luis reached into his jacket and pulled out a .22 caliber pistol. "Does this make it easier for you?" he asked, pointing the gun at me. The waitresses cleared out of the diner in a panic. I couldn't believe what was happening. In a matter of seconds, my brother had become a totally different person. When I looked at him, all I could see was the barrel of that gun. I knew coming over here that this wasn't going to be easy, but there was no way I could have seen this coming. "Put the gun away, Luis." I said firmly. "Don't do something you're going to regret. You've already lost Mom. You can't afford to lose me." "Lose you? LOSE YOU?!?" he yelled angrily. "You self-righteous son of a bitch! You're trying to arrest me, you...you..." I could see him getting angrier by the second, his eyes burning with complete rage. I sensed he was going to squeeze the trigger. I dove over the counter just as he opened fire, avoiding the barrage of bullets and landing hard on my shoulder. Suddenly, all I could hear was the gun clicking. Luis had run out of bullets. Any other time, any other suspect, I would have drawn my own weapon. But pulling my gun now was the furthest thing from my mind. Knowing this would be my only chance, I quickly got to my feet and jumped over the counter. As Luis tried to reload, I charged him like a raging bull, tackling him hard. The force of our bodies shattered the window and sent us crashing to the concrete sidewalk outside. As I tried to get to my feet, I could see my brother take off, running through the city streets without caution and almost getting hit by several oncoming cars. Quickly, I ran after him, knowing that Luis had problems with his knees in the past. It only took a matter of seconds for me to catch up to him and tackle him once again. Exhausted, I tried to get to my feet quickly, only to be met by a hard punch to the face. Luis tried to follow up with another blow, but I grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back. I tripped him with my leg and slammed him to the floor, face-first. "I can't believe you're doing this!" Luis yelled angrily, struggling to break free from my grip. "You fucking bastard! You're not my brother!" And at that moment, our relationship changed forever. Luis had made his decision. Now, I had to make mine. As I slapped on the handcuffs, there was only one thing left to say. "Luis Castillo," I said as I picked my brother up from the floor. "You're under arrest." · Excerpt from the Depeche Mode song Walking in My Shoes, written by Martin Gore. Copyright 1992 EMI Music Publishing Ltd, assigned by Grabbing Hands Music Overseas Ltd.