The Braided

The Braided

         Levi’s palms were clammy as he gripped the car door handle the way he did earlier when he sat naked in the dry tub, his temple pressed against the shower wall, gripping his clammy palms to the washcloth bar, while his mom aimed the hose at him. His eyes were clamped shut, but he knew she had that tear in hers. “You’re twelve years-old—when will you get over this silly fear?” she’d pressed and he gasped as the shocking spray struck him. Now, he almost wished he was in the shower—in a whole tubful of water. He exhaled as the car turned onto the long driveway that cut the lush woods in half and climbed the hill toward the cabin.

         It was the first time he’d been there since the night of the funeral. That week was a blur. Since it happened, only one thing stuck in his head—the voice of his father through the telephone the last time they spoke. "Bud, there’s something important I have to tell you. I’ll be there at six to pick you up." He never made it, and Levi would never know what he wanted to say.

         The car came to rest beside the two story log cabin. Levi looked out the windshield at the maple tree on the hilltop.

         “Boy, this place’s really changed since I left,” Levi’s mom remarked with her knuckles still over the steering wheel. “Is that an addition they built on?” She pointed in the direction of Levi’s gaze. “And that tree out there has grown.”

         From that distance, Levi couldn’t see over the hill at the valley below; the tree seemed to hover on the edge of the earth where nothing existed past it.

         His mom reached over and brushed his cheek. “You ready?”

         Levi tilted his head away from her touch and saw his Jedi-caped eight-year-old stepbrother leap off the deck and stab a light saber into the air. “Can’t you just wait for me while I get my stuff?”

         “Honey, we talked about this. I have a meeting.”

         Levi rolled his eyes as he watched his stepmother, Elise, emerge from the cabin and wave.

         Levi’s mom returned the greeting, then looked at Levi. “They miss him too.”

         For another moment, Levi watched Jake’s play. “Yeah, right.” He grabbed his duffle bag, opened the car door, and slammed it shut.

         The car disappeared down the driveway, and Levi scuffed his heels, ambling toward the deck.

         “Hi, Levi.” Elise lowered a large green bag to the deck floor.

         “Hey.” He stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. A warm breeze tossed the dark strands he kept long around his thin face.

         “I’m baking—”

         “I’m not hungry.”

         “Oh.” Her voice lifted. “Well how long can you stay?” She glimpsed at the bag swaying below his bony elbow.

         Levi glanced down. “It’s empty. I just came to get my stuff.”

         Elise crossed her arms and brought her palm to her lips. “Levi, I know things seem different now that . . .” Her voice cracked and her eyes closed.

         Levi glared at the overstuffed garbage bags and cardboard box beside her. A familiar plaid shirt lay across the box. “What’s all that?”

         “Dad’s stuff,” Jake announced, looking up at Levi and squinting his left eye in the sunlight. “See what I got.” He held out his chubby wrist.

         Levi stared down at a braided leather bracelet hugging his wrist. “Who gave you that?”

         “It was Big Jake’s. I gave it to Little Jake to help him . . . remember.”

         Levi bit his lower lip. Hearing those names: Little Jake, Big Jake. While slightly irritating before, today they sent bolts of rage through him. Why couldn’t I have been named after my father? He isn’t even his real kid. Just a stupid coincidence they had the same name. After Elise and Levi’s dad married three years earlier, they added “Little” and “Big” to tell which Jake they were talking about.

         Elise placed her hand on her back hip. “I’ve-” The startling oven timer rang from inside the cabin. She sighed and slipped back, through the sliding door.

         Levi leaned over Jake and glared. “I know that was my dad’s because I made it for him in scouts.”

         Jake caressed the twisted strands. “Really? Awesome.”

         Levi threw the duffle bag on the deck. “Forget it.”

         “What?”

         “I should’ve gotten that bracelet—not you.”

         “Mama said Dad woulda wanted me ta have it.”

         “He wasn’t your dad.”

         Jake narrowed his eyes. “Yes he was.”

         Levi leaned so close, he could tell he’d eaten Doritos for lunch. “No, he was my dad and now he’s dead.” He jammed his index finger into Jake’s small chest. “You still have your father.”

         Jake stumbled backwards. “I got two. Daddy and Big Jake!”

         Levi stood upright and laughed. “Big Jake was only nice to you because he was married your mother and he had to be.”

         Jake shook his head and whimpered, “No.” His Jedi cape flared behind him as he bolted toward an opening in the woods.

         Levi flopped down on the edge of the deck and dropped his forehead into his hands. Through the corner of his eye, he spied the bags. It’s not trash! He snatched the plaid shirt from the pile. For a long moment, he held the worn flannel, bunched between his fists. He spread it open, punched through the sleeves, and pulled the fabric over his t-shirt. It hung heavy on his narrow shoulders. His nose brushed against the soft fabric, and the fleeting scent of his dad saturated his senses and evoked his memory.

         His heavy arm hugged Levi’s rounded shoulders. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

         In a trembling heap on the grass, Levi’s words wouldn’t come.

         “Bud, talk to me.” Big Jake lifted Levi’s chin. Streams of water trickled down his neck to his soaked chest. “You’re all wet—”

         Little Jake ran by with a water gun and shot a stream at the tent and trunk of the maple tree.

         “I hate him,” Levi moaned.

         "You don't mean that." Big Jake unfurled the plaid folds of his sleeve and dotted Levi’s face. “He doesn’t know, bud. Jake wasn’t there when you were three and fell into the swamp. If you don’t tell him, he won’t know not to spray you.”

         Levi whimpered. “I don’t wanna tell him.” Over his dad’s shoulder, he watched Little Jake at the edge of the woods. His body disappearing in pieces behind the trees. “Dad, he’s going again.”

         Big Jake turned in time to see Little Jake’s leg before he completely vanished. As he started after him, he promised, “I’ll make sure Little Jake doesn’t get you with the water pistol. You keep helping me make sure he doesn’t go into the woods alone. Deal?”

         Deal. Like his dad had done long ago, Levi raced to where the side yard met the woods. Jade foliage hovered high above the trail, blocking the sunlight and casting deep shadows onto the worn path. Bare lower limbs stretched out like haunting skeleton arms. Levi’s feet thumped the ground as he moved deeper into the woods.

         At a split in the trail, a crackle sounded. “Jake?” A squirrel scampered across the overgrowth. Levi continued onward until he came upon a fallen tree across the path. Where the trunk had broken away from the stump, hundreds of shiny larvae moved in waves as they fed on the rot. Levi reeled over the hurdle and ran until it hurt to breathe and the ground grew dank and the trees opened around the swamp.

         He bent over and clasped his thighs, catching his breath. The trail ended here. Jake’s nowhere.

         Levi scanned the still, algae dotted water, spotting a brown hump in its center. A giant eye, the swamp glowered at Levi. He staggered a few steps nearer until his feet sank in mud and an irrepressible quake racked his core. The brown hump—it’s Jake’s cape. “Jake!” He tried to step over the foam and into the water, but he drew back his shaking foot. I can’t. I can’t. Sweat beaded on his forehead. A tree limb stretching over the radius of the swamp caught his attention. Moving through the mud like a dinosaur in a tar pit, he reached the trunks of two trees. They grew so closely together, with branches that intertwined, Levi couldn’t tell which owned the limb over the swamp. He peeled off his dad’s bulky shirt, tossed it, and clung himself to one of the trunks. Levi climbed until he found the awry limb and began inching himself onto it.

         Just past the middle, the limb creaked as it sloped beneath Levi’s weight. Above the fetid water, Levi’s legs clamped the tree and he leaned. A fingertip brushed Jake. He lurched and seized a fistful of cape. Water rolled off it—only the cape. Relief washed over Levi like stepping into an air conditioned room on a scorching summer day. Jake’s not in the swamp . . .

         Levi heard a snap and sucked in air as he felt his body drop. Down with the end of the branch, he plunged into the rank water below.

         His head surfaced, but he didn’t know it. Under the sprays of his thrashing, he held his breath. Then his feet touched the mucky bottom and he stood. Tears mixed with the water that drizzled down his face, and Levi held Jake’s cape at his chest, plowing through the murky swamp, back onto dry earth.

***

         Jake was sitting under the maple tree on the hilltop when Levi returned. The sun sparkled through its leafy branches, and Levi took an easy breath as he sat down. “Hi.”

         Jake glanced over. “You’re wearing Big Jake’s shirt?”

         “Yeah.”

         Jake cocked his head. “Mom said to tell you before you go—the stuff on the deck is yours, if you want it.”

         Levi glimpsed back at the distant bags and smiled. “Where is Elise?”

         “Taking a nap.”

         “Oh.” Levi held out the wet cape. “I got this for you.”

         “Don’t want it.” Jake stared out at the valley below.

         “Why? Dad bought it for you.”

         Jake looked up at Levi, squinting his left eye in the sunlight.

         “Dad would want you to keep it.”

         Jake placed his palm on the cape and narrowed his eyes. “You went in the swamp? But you hate water--”

         “Dad tell you that?”

         Jake nodded and looked down at the sun-bleached grass.

         Levi gazed out over countless treetops dotting the valley below the cerulean sky. “I’d face a whole ocean for my little brother.”

         A breeze rustled the leaves above them.

         “What’s it like being a big brother?”

         Levi felt his face flush. “Better than I ever thought. Why?”

         “’Cause I’m gonna be one.”

         Levi’s brow furrowed. “Bud, there’s something important I have to tell you.” His father’s last words. “Elise is pregnant?”

         Jake nodded. “I overheard them talking before Dad . . .”
Jake nestled into Levi’s arm.

         “Wow. Big brothers. You’re gonna have to help me keep him from going into the woods.”

         Jake giggled. “What if it’s a girl?”

         Levi shrugged. “Her too.”

         “You stink.”

         Levi laughed. “Yeah, I gotta take a shower.”

         “Thought you were leaving.”

         “I was thinking we could set up the tent—”

         Jake beamed. “And camp out?”

         Levi leaned against the tree bark. “Yup.”

         “You still want Dad’s bracelet?”

         “Nah, you keep it.”

         “I think I’ll give it to the baby.”

         “Good idea.” He looked down at the interwoven strands. “I remember making it—a piece already laced in frayed and broke. I blatted like a baby, but then I just got another strand and braided it right in. Always worried it might make the bracelet weak or something.”

         “Really?” Jake pulled it over his knuckles and gave the bracelet to Levi. “Which strand was it?”

         Levi examined the thickset braids. “Funny.” He handed it back to his brother. “I can’t tell anymore.”


Word Count: 1,999

* * *

This is an entry in

SURVEY

Short Shots: Official WDC Contest  (ASR) Use the photo to inspire your creativity. Write a short story and win big prizes! #1221635 by Writing.Com Support