Hope

A Story by Glader_McKenna

Elsie and her brother Donny are best friends. And when a fishing accident takes Donny's life, her life starts crumbling around her. But everything changes when a new family moves in next door.

Hope

It’s been five years and I still wake up screaming in the dead of night. It’s always the same thing: “Donny-!” Though the wound is old, the pain is fresh. I know it’s not my fault Donny’s dead, but I can’t help but feel that if I got there just five minutes earlier, he would still be with me. I can still hear his cries for help, his face as he disappeared into the lake, never to resurface.

As much as it hurts now, everything was much, much worse the month after Donny died, which I’ve dubbed The Incident. After Donny’s death, I locked myself in my room, not talking to anyone or eating. But everything changed when this new boy moved to town. He was the last kid you’d expect to be even the slightest bit remarkable. He even looks as average as you can look. Red hair and blue eyes. Even his name is unremarkable. Ron Moore. But he’s much, much more than ordinary. He’s extra-ordinary. You have no idea what he means to me.

I should probably explain what happened all those years ago. Donny is " or, was - my older brother. I was only eleven at the time of The Incident, and he was only thirteen. It happened back in ‘25. One day he decided to go fishing, since our Pa used to take him. I would’ve gone, but since Pa left us when I was five, I never wanted to fish again. Fishing reminded me of him, and I never wanted to think of him again. Who wants a father that leaves his wife and three young kids?

Anyway, Donny took our old rowboat to the lake near our farmhouse. I went into town to buy some sweets for our younger brother, Arthur, because he was sick with a fever. As I left the candy shop, I felt on top of the world. I picked a flower from the pot in front of the in front of the baker’s shop, thinking how perfect my life was at the very moment.

I’m not sure exactly what happened to Donny’s boat, but I heard some men in town talking.

“Did you see what happened down by the lake?” one asked.

“See it?” the other replied. “I could see the splashing from a mile away!”

“Poor kid,” The first one shook his head.

I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need to. There was one lake in town, and no one else was fishing today. I dropped my bag of sweets and took off towards the lake. Sure enough, the rowboat was upside down and Donny was splashing wildly some twenty yards from the shore.

I didn’t hesitate for even a second. I just kicked off my boots and dove into the water. I’m a better swimmer than Donny, so I got to the boat in a minute…ish.

“Donny! Donny!” I shouted.

“Elsie?” Donny responded through a mouthful of lake water.

“Donny!” I exclaimed.

“Get on the boat!” he yelled. Didn’t need to tell me twice. I scramble onto the rowboat, taking a second to balance it out.

“Donny!” I shouted. “Donny, give me your hand!” He treads water for a second, looking me in the eyes.

“You shouldn’t have come, Elsie.” he said. “Take care of him.” Those were the last words he ever said to me. He disappeared under the surface. And just like that, my brother is gone. It happened that quickly.

I stay on the boat, staring at the spot my brother had disappeared for an hour, maybe two.

Most towns don’t have special ceremonies when someone dies. But my town is so small that when anything eventful happens, we have to have some sort of ceremony. And everyone in town knows my family. Everyone loves us. We’ve lived there my whole life. Donny’s whole… Never mind. Everyone knows my Mama. They know her as the woman whose husband left her. They know her as the woman who single-handedly raised a family of four.

Sick people came to her for healing. She never turned down a patient, whether human or animal. When our cow, Cassie, got violently sick and died, my mama held a funeral for her. Sure only Arthur, Donny, Mama, all the farm animals and I attended, but still.

As the eldest child now, I gave a speech. I carefully left out Donny’s last words to me, or his last words, period. The mayor drawled on and on about how sorry he was for our loss, and reporters tried to dig into my head to get to the heart of my story. It amazed me how those reporters were using our pain and misery to boost sales.

The mayor started talking about how the lake didn’t have a name, and he said that he would like to name the lake in honor of Donny. He handed me the framed certificate and shook my hand, looking right at a reporter’s camera instead of at me. I wondered why I was accepting the certificate instead of Mama. But one look back at her answered my question. She was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, barely able to contain herself at the loss of her eldest child.

My family had our own funeral. Since we didn’t have Donny’s body, we just buried the coffin in our backyard. Our family members came from towns over. After that service, I walked into my house, not saying a word to anyone. I locked my door, slumping down on the hardwood floor. I winced at the sight of my black dress, a whole new wave of pain overcoming me.

For a week and a half, I didn’t leave my room. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty. I saw the new family moving in next door. Technically this is their farm, too, and I guess the old residents sold their animals, too. Donny and I used to be friends with their daughter, Beth. I don’t really like it when things change. Coupled with Donny’s death, my life was crumbling around me.

I watched the new tenants move boxes into the white house, thinking how they won’t survive out here. They seem city-strong, not farm-strong. The way the father, son and daughter handled the boxes, I could tell they would need a lot of help out here in the country. I couldn’t help but wondering where the mother was. I’m not sure if they know about Donny, but I don’t care. I wasn’t planning on leaving my room any time soon. Except for this one time.

The son - red headed and blue eyed - caught my gaze and smiled at me. I quickly look away, but not before seeing Mama go out and talk to the new neighbors. The boy and the girl ventured off to the stables. I hoped they would figure out their horses are on the right and ours are on the left.

I unlock my door and tiptoe into the hall. Arthur is lying in his bed, sick as a dog. My cat, Bonnie - Donny named her - looked at me as I watched Arthur sleep. I hope to God that Arthur won’t meet the same fate that Donny did.

My mind travels back to Donny’s last words. “Take care of him.” By “him”, Donny could have only meant Arthur. I reached into the pocket of my overalls and pull out the bag of sweets I bought the day Donny drowned. The candy shop owner, whom everyone calls Riddle since he speaks in rhymes, saw me drop it and gave it back to me after the ceremony. Placing the bag on Arthur’s bedside table, I put a piece of paper that simply says "Elsie on it. As I watch Arthur, I suddenly feel a strange protectiveness for my little brother. I’ve always paid more attention to Donny, and I kind of iced Arthur out. I watched Arthur until I hear the front door close and run cat-like back to my room.

I open my door just enough to see Mama look into Arthur’s room, see the candy and smile. She looked back at my room just in time to see my door close.

Another week and half later, there was a knock at the door. “Elsie, would you get that?” Mama called from Arthur’s room, where his fever is getting better. I sighed and opened my door. I traipsed down the stairs and opened the front door. When I saw it was that new boy from the city standing there, I had no doubt Mama planned this to get me out of my room.

“What do you want?” I asked bitterly.

“Well hello to you, too.” he replied. “I’m Ron.” He holds out his hand.

“Elsie,” I said slowly, shaking his hand. “Why are you here?”

“Odd.” Ron commented.

“What?” I questioned.

He shrugged. “All the kids at school said you were nice and friendly and sweet.”

School. I had completely forgotten about school. Mama hasn’t brought it up, so I guess she’s giving me time to heal. Donny’s death hit me hardest of all.

“I wonder what happened,” He smiled. Does he really not know what happened with Donny?

“Why are you here?” I asked, my tone softer that time.

“My father,” he responded, as if that alone answered the question. “They wanted me to ask you for tips on living on a farm.”

“Since you’re not farm strong?” My bitterness returned. “Why didn’t they send your sister?”

Ron looks at me for a second. “My sister isn’t the most…” He tried to find the right word, “likable person.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She’s a snob.” Ron told me.

“Ah,” I nodded. I closed the door and said, “Come on,” To Ron.

I led him to the stables, where he walked right up to Donny’s horse, Wyatt. I kind of smile at the way Wyatt immediately likes Ron. There’s something about Ron that makes me trust him. My face fell when I realized what it was. Ron was exactly like Donny.

“Those aren’t your horses.” I informed him.

“Huh?” He replied. I pointed at the horses on the left. Ron walked up to a slick black horse that was bigger than the rest.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” I exclaimed.

“What?” He said.

“That’s Fiery.” I told him. Fiery is the wildest horse you’ll ever meet, and no one should go near him, if they know what’s good for them.

“So?” Ron replied.

I stared at Ron, contemplating something. “I want to show you something.” I glance at the ladder leading up to the loft. Donny and I always used to hang out up there. After The Incident, I’ve been sneaking out my window at night, and sliding down the drain pipe. I’m not sure if Mama and Arthur even know about the loft.

Ron shrugged. “Okay.” I led him to the ladder and started climbing, with Ron following. “This place has a loft?” He inquired. “The Prestons didn’t say anything about a loft.”

“They didn’t know about it.” I told him. When we reached the sunny loft, Ron let out a low whistle. I look at the table I had set up. On it were pictures of Donny and I, the certificate to rename the lake, a poem I had written and various other keepsakes of Donny’s. Ron turned and saw the table. He walked up and picked up a framed picture of Donny, with a scrap of paper that read Donny Everdeen 27 June 1914 - 13 April 1925.

“April thirteenth?” Ron repeated. “He died three weeks ago?” He looked at me. I bit my tongue and nodded. Ron looks back at the picture. “Who’s Donny?”

“My brother,” I replied bitter-sweetly.

“I thought your brother was inside,” Ron stated. “The one with the fever.”

“That’s Arthur. Donny is - was - my older brother.”

Ron looked at the certificate to rename the lake, Donny’s old fishing equipment I saved from the lake and the rowboat I had brought up. The one that cost Donny his life.

“He drowned in the lake?” Ron figured it out pretty quickly. I nodded, biting my lower lip. He set down the framed picture of Donny and looked out the window of the loft, where you could see Lake Donny. “That lake?”

“That’s why they renamed it.” I confirmed.

Ron looked me up and down. Were it anyone else, I probably would’ve felt uncomfortable. But there’s something about Ron, I just can’t explain it.

“My mom died right after my sister was born. Don’t even remember her. My older sister died from the measles when I was five. My aunt and uncle died in a car crash when I was seven. My grandparents died in the sinking of the Titanic, before I ever met them.”

This time, it’s me who looks him up and down. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

“Don’t you see, Elsie?” Ron exclaimed. I shook my head, since I didn’t see. Ron had this grin plastered on his face. He looked all around the room, his grin growing bigger by the second. “Else! As long as he lives on in your memory, Donny’s never truly dead!”

Now you can see why Ron means so much to me. He pulled me out of the valley of sorrow I fell into after Donny died. Ron saved me from a life of pain and misery. He showed me Donny isn’t really dead. And most importantly, Ron restored my hope.

Coupled with the fact that after Ron told me that, I saw Arthur walk out the front door of our house, looking a 100% better and munching on the sweets I bought him, I felt on top of the world again. After that day, everything went right. Don’t get me wrong, I still mourn for Donny’s death. I told you how I wake up screaming.

But again, it was Ron who saved me from choosing the path of despair in stead of the path to the future. It was Ron who helped me part with Donny peacefully. It was Ron that restored the most important thing of all. Hope.