Deal, Jonathan

There's a bridge in Louisiana that ties together two paths carved haphazardly through the muddy marsh. These paths were made by the Daniels siblings, on their constant journeys back and forth from the river. The bridge was even constructed by the eldest, a boy named Jonathan. It swings low over a creek, held together by rope and knots held to trees. Jonathan, a natural engineer and strongest of the four boys, built the whole thing on a whim when he recognized how much the boys loved to swim in the alcoves of the river. Since the creek lay at least four body-lengths in the ravine below, it took almost ten extra minutes to climb down and climb back up again. Jonathan could climb the cliff-side easiest, but Ethan, the youngest, could hardly make a go of it at only five years old. He'd gotten too big for even Jonathan to carry, a well-built boy of nearly eighteen, so he figured it was about time to build a bridge.

Where he placed the bridge was particularly important to this story. At the lowest part of the ravine, he made the path go, and rounded off where the trees of the forest came into a clearing. He called the place Tabula Rasa, for he considered it a 'clean slate' with which he could paint his beautiful bridge portrait on the landscape. The bridge itself he named for his grandmother Eleanor, for when he completed his project, the bridge sagged terribly.

It took three weeks of hard labor for Jonathan to complete his bridge. His sister Ruth was the first to applaud his efforts with, "I didn't know there was a bridge here." Every other of his five siblings hardly took notice that anything had changed. Except for of course Ethan, who adored Jonathan in every way possible. Ethan held such a liking to Jonathan because Jonathan protected him. From the day Ethan was born, he adored two things: affection and protection. Jonathan gathered this when he accidently walked in on his mother nursing a baby Ethan. When he entered the room, Ethan hid behind his mother's right breast and squeezed his face into her ribs. While embarrassed, Jonathan remembers it to be one of his fondest memories. He adored the moment's simplicity, and the utter innocence of a young child clutching to his mother's teet.

In this way, Jonathan felt like his brother's strong right hand; a bond-servant of the greatest kind: a brother. He adored his two other brothers, Joshua and Caleb, but most of all was Ethan. Gladly he would lay his life down for any of them, and the way he carried himself portrayed every detail of that fact. It was a full spectrum of love and compassion being carried in every step he took for his brothers.

Jonathan's sisters he left in the hands of his mother. While providing for all her children was top priority, it was obvious to all whom she favored most: Ruth and Lisa. Ruth was plain as daylight in the desert, but her mother loved that about her. She felt as though Ruth was someone she could lock arms with and wrestle anything that came along. Ruth was tough, just like her mother, and never waivered in her convictions. Lisa was a looker and a charmer from infinity. Her mother loved her differently; she found a face to put make-up on and doll-up on special occasions. Ruth and Lisa put together made the perfect daughter in the eyes of a simple mother, and heaven knows Mrs. Daniels tried desperately to keep them together.

But of course, while Ruth played swimming with the boys, Lisa stayed home and read.

Their father was no longer with them.

Mrs. Daniels tried her hardest to remain sane after the passing of Mr. Daniels. But as with most death, time can be as brutal a taskmaster as it can be a humble healer. She pressured Jonathan to shoulder the weight of a deceased father, and grief-stricken as he was, Jonathan soon grew cold towards his mother. Bitter tongues flew over dinner conversations. Arms and wrists flung high when the idea of other men entering their household was brought up. Jonathan had done some reading on the so called 'Oedipus Complex', to which he found increasing validity. He became increasingly jealous of her interactions with other men. It felt as though the pieces of his father to be found in him were screaming at the top of their lungs. It was excrutiating.

Night terrors flooded Jonathan's sleeping routines. He found himself dreading the day his mother would remarry, knowing full-well that his feelings could not be shown on the day that it happened. He would have to swallow all his grief and sadness and homesickness for his father that had been pent up for years and years, and all for a happy wedding photo-op. This future wedding seemed so inevitable, so hopelessly certain to him that he sweat beads in his slumber, and shouted profanities at men neither he nor his mother yet knew.

It broke Jonathan's heart when Ethan first asked if he was his daddy. "Your father was a great man," he explained to a disheartened Ethan, "A great man who fought many wars, both home and abroad. I'll be your daddy while he's gone, but only if you agree to call me Jonathan."

"When's he coming back, daddy?" Ethan asked.

"I don't think he is coming back Ethan," he replied, "But if he does, I want you to call me Jonathan until then. Just in case he gets jealous when he gets back."

"Deal," said Ethan, "Jonathan."

* * *

The Daniels made their first journey to the river as a family six months after the bridge was built. Though storm clouds threatned, the family was determined to enjoy a picnic and bask in the cool waters. Tabula Rasa had seen better days, and the bridge itself began to look less and less sound in the eyes of Jonathan. His creation had done it's duty for several months now, and he knew now that when the creek bed flooded the bridge almost served no purpose. The water touched the bottom of the two lowest boards, making a quick swim the simplist method across. In fact, the boys found much joy in diving off the bridge into the creek waters below during rainy days.

Before the Daniels crossed the bridge, Jonathan checked it's integrity. While he doubted it would last much longer, he allowed them all to cross one by one, each sibling carrying a picnic item. Mrs. Daniels carried Mr. Daniels' watch/compass to 'guide the way' (though every sibling knew the way). Jonathan carried the blankets and the towels. Ruth carried the parasol. Joshua carried the water pails for drinking water. Lisa carried the lemonade. Caleb carried the floating tubes, and Ethan waddled alongside Jonathan carrying the hefty food basket.

"Are we going to the river, Jonny?" Ethan asked
"Sure are, buddy," he replied.
"Are there fish in the river?"
"Oh hundreds, I'm sure."
"Will they bite me?"
"I doubt it."
"Will they be my friends?"
"I doubt that even more, buddy."
"Will it rain?"
"Probably. But let's hope not."
"Can I have a fish for dinner?"
"Haha! A minute ago you wanted them to be your friends!"
"Not no more."
"Oh Ethan. I'm sure we could convince one of them yuppies to be your friend."
"Deal?"
"Deal."

The Daniels had barely finished eating when it began to rain. Hard. Lisa sprinted back to the house, as did Ruth and Mrs. Daniels carrying Ethan. The other boys were left to collect and drag everything home. Before they got to it, they swam around and laughed in the rain. Joshua talked about Claire Roth's boobs at length, calling them everything from 'glorious spheres' to 'whorish lumps'. The Daniels boys were very well read.

Caleb talked about the book he was currently reading, called The Sound and the Fury. Jonathan asked if he could read it next, as he was quite fond of Faulkner. While the boys talked of many other things, they themselves would never remember them, as the strands that connected the ideas were as thin as the boys' attention spans. Idea to idea, they found themselves somehow always circling back to womens' breasts.

Time passed quickly, and Jonathan recognized the water rising and figured that the creek was flooded. He rushed the boys to gather everything and they sprinted through the woods back down the path. Jonathan was the last to reach the bridge, and as he approached he tripped over a boulder hidden by mud. He landed face first into the bridge, spilling most of what he was carrying into the creek. The water now nearly covered the bridge, and when Jonathan landed he heard some twisting and snapping. He figured that Eleanor maybe had a half an hour to live. He rolled off into the creek and swam the rest of the way to shore.

Upon arriving back at the house, Jonathan passed his mother going back into the woods.
"What are you doing?" he shouted through the rain
"I forgot your father's watch!" She shouted back, "It's going to get washed away in this rain!"
"Mom, it's gone! I was just there, and the water was rising. By the time you get back, it'll be halfway to New Orleans!"
"I've got to try, Jonathan. It's another piece of your father I'd be losing!"
"Mom, you can't go back! The bridge is about to go!"
"Nonsense! It was fine when I crossed it."
"Trust me mom! I fell down on it on the way back, and I heard it snapping and twisting. You can't go Mom, you can't hardly swim!"
"I'll be fine."
She whisped into the woods without another word. Jonathan followed his mother, insisting that she turn back. She didn't say a word to him the whole way to the bridge.

Just as they arrived in the clearing, Jonathan heard a branch break behind him. He looked back to see that Ethan had followed them out. "Go home, Ethan. You shouldn't be out here in this." Ethan did as he was told, and just as he was almost out of Jonathan's sight, he heard a scream from the bridge.

His mother flailed in the creek water struggling to stay afloat. Jonathan ripped off his shoes and dove into the creek after her. She began to sink as her panic turned into exhaustion, but Jonathan arrived just in time to lift her head above water. She coughed, and Jonathan's arm wrapped around her body, brought up just beneath her blouse and touching her bare breast. It was the first time Jonathan had felt sexually attracted to his mother.

He dragged her onto the shore, then carried her back to the house. When he arrived, everyone was standing outside the house, except for Ethan.

"Where's Ethan?" Jonathan demanded.
"Didn't he go out there with you?" asked Ruth, blankly.

Jonathan's eyes widened and the rain continued to pour. Time stood still and Jonathan began running through the woods in his mind. He determined the quickest routes to the creek and where it let into the river. He knew their swimming alcove lay downstream from the creek delta, so he would start there and work his way down. His feet spun, his calves dug in, and his legs pumped him forward and into the woods.

He shouted "Ethan!" at the top of his lungs. Every inch of him feared the worst. It drove him into an adrenaline enduced rage. He flew threw the woods, tearing limbs from trees and stepping so lightly the mud barely stuck to his bare feet. Scraped and scathed almost every step, his mind only carried the image of Ethan, lifeless on the creek shore.

He arrived where Eleanor once stood proud and attempted to jump across. The jump was short, and he felt the bones in his right leg grind together as he landed. It was nearly broken, and he almost passed out as he fell backwards into the creek, clutching his leg. He floated downstream, occasionally looking into the water to see if he could find Ethan. The rain disorentied him, and the pain in his ankle and calf was unreal. He soon came to the mouth of the creek, and floated downriver, slowly losing all hope of finding his brother.

As he approached their picnic site, he saw a small body laid up against a branch extending into the river. He swam up next to it, crying Ethan's name the whole way. He fought back tears and sobbing, and threw his brother over his shoulder onto shore. He hobbled on the sand and laid him down flat. He didn't hear him breathing. He shoved every ounce of energy he had left into performing CPR on his comatose faux-son. He breathed into his mouth, and continued shouting.

"ETHAN!"

His technique was awful. This was only something he had read about, but never had to perform. He knew he had to be doing more damage than good. He drove each thrust with purpose and as much precision as possible, and with a second blow into his mouth, Ethan spat up river sewage and mud. He assisted his brother upright and helped him vomit everything up. As Ethan coughed, he mumbled something unintelligable, followed by, "Jonathan, please don't drown."

"I didn't drown, buddy. You almost did," Jonathan said and embraced Ethan. He held him tight and strong, and rolled over on his back next to him. He pressed Ethan against his chest, and patted his hair.
"I tried to save you. Please don't drown," Ethan continued
"I'm alright buddy, I'm alright."
"Deal?"
"Deal."
"Where's daddy?"
"He's not with us anymore, Ethan. Remember?"
"No! No! I just saw him. Where'd he go?"
"Where did you see him?"
"Just now. He dove in after me."
Jonathan paused and wondered.
"Well he's gone now, buddy."
"Do I still have to call you Jonathan, then?"
"I'm 'fraid so."
Jonathan continued petting Ethan's hair for a little while longer, holding him on the river shore.

When the boys came back to the house, not a word was spoken between Jonathan and Mrs. Daniels. Jonathan replayed the incident in his head, and came to the conclusion that he never blamed his mother for what happened. In her heart she knew he didn't, for the look on his face when she came out of the water said it all. Her intentions were good. Jonathan knew this, as bringing his brother back to life made him feel as though he was recovering a piece of his father. And, perhaps, that's all Mrs. Daniels wanted - to preserve a piece of her husband in his watch.

Jonathan quickly recovered from the incident, and set about plans to rebuild his bridge over a higher part of the ravine. He began gathering wood two days after saving his drowning brother.

Then one afternoon several days later, when Mrs. Daniels was hanging clothes to dry, she shook a pair of Ethan's pants, and out flew her husband's watch.