YOU JUMP, I JUMP
Chapter One

"A man is not considered good by the things he can buy, but the things he does for others. Remember this, James…and you’ll never go wrong."

That was the last thing my father ever said to me. I was six years old and he was tucking me into bed. My mother was already asleep, as she was heavily pregnant and exhausted. I didn’t understand what he meant then, but as I grew, it became more and more apparent. My parents, sister, and I had settled into Cedar Rapids when I was nearly a year old from California, and my fondest memory of living there was when Dad would take Jo and I to the art museum and we would stand there, holding hands and gaping at the beautiful paintings and sculptures. We were so very young then, I four and Jo fourteen. My mother had been married and widowed before meeting my father and Jo had been the result of her first marriage. I was oblivious to this until I once heard my mother say to Jo, with a smirk, "If your father were alive, I would imagine he would lean against the doorframe the exact same way."

Confused in my innocence, I asked Mama what she meant and she sat me down and gently explained that when she was very young, she had been married and that her husband had sadly been lost in a terrible accident.

"But then I met your daddy and he loves Jo just as much as he loves you," she said, her eyes kind with patience.

"Well, that’s good," I said, still not understanding everything, but at that time, I was too young to care.

The night my father died, I couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been home to tuck me in, and Jo had had to make do so Mama could sleep. She read me a book before standing to leave. Before she left the room, however, I called out to her.

"Jo?" She stopped, turning back to me.

"What’s wrong, Jamie?" she asked, coming back.

"Where’s Daddy?" I asked, ignoring the frantic feeling of dread in my stomach.

"He’s…he’s just running late. That’s all, James." Her voice sounded a bit uneasy as well.

"Do you think he’s okay?" I blurted, sitting up in bed. Gently, she guided me to lay down by the shoulders, her red hair spilling over her shoulders.

"Sure…I’ll bet he’ll be home any minute," she said, touching my forehead affectionately. "Night, Jamie."

"G’night, Jo," I replied, and stared at the ceiling after she’d gone. I must have dozed off because I jolted awake later to hear a pounding on the front door below. Slowly, as if in a dream, I got out of bed and padded out to the stairs, perching on the top stair. I heard a man talking to Mama.

"He tried to stop the criminal, not realizing he had a gun, and was shot three times…once in the chest and twice in the arm." My mother’s gasp was audible, and just below, I could see Jo crouching in the shadows, listening as well.

"Is he…" Mama trailed off.

"There was nothing we could do. He asked us to give you this before he died." I tried to register this in my six-year-old mind. My father, my daddy, my hero, was gone…dead. Just like Jo’s daddy before. I would never see him again. My heart began to pound as my eyes began to burn with unshed tears. I sobbed into the top step for a few long minutes after the police had left until I heard Mama’s voice call out.

"Jamie?" She sounded worried. "Is that you?" I made myself quiet, but she came to the stairs and looked up into my tear-soaked face. Her face fell as she realized that I knew. Holding out her arms, she moved to the bottom of the stairs. "Come here." She beckoned and I ran to her, allowing her to catch me up in her arms. I could feel the baby moving within her as she held me tightly. "You know, don’t you?" She was crying and it was worse for me because she was upset. All I could do was nod. "Oh, God, you know…oh, my God…this isn’t happening again…I can’t…I can’t do this." She sank to sit on the bottom step with me in her lap. Jo moved over to sit beside her and put her arms around us.

"You can do this, Mama…" Jo said in a completely different voice. "You’re strong…you can." I think Jo was more trying to convince herself than to convince Mama. The fear in her eyes was clear. "I’ll get a job, I’ll…give up everything…" she whispered. Mama’s head snapped toward her.

"Josephine, don’t you ever talk like that again. My children will never give up their dreams just because life is unkind." She pulled me up to look at her and gripped both of our arms tightly. "Listen to me, both of you." I looked at Jo, who looked completely dumbfounded, her light blue eyes reddened with tears. "You are going to promise me right now…promise...that you won’t give up…no matter what happens…no matter how hopeless…promise." Both of us stared at her in complete confusion. "Now!"

"Okay!" Jo cried, wincing as her arm was obviously pinched. Mama turned her eyes to me.

"James?" she asked expectantly. I reached out a small hand to wipe the tear falling down her cheek.

"Okay, Mama…anything you say," I said. I didn’t cry again until the day of the funeral. The casket was open and we were the first to go into the church. He looked like he was sleeping, and that he might wake up any moment. Jo looked as if she were going to be sick and quickly left the room with the help of her best friend, Dave Stirling. Mama and I stood side by side, holding hands and looking into that awful box that was holding the remains of my father. I moved forward and looked into his peaceful face and closed my eyes, thinking of our fishing trip in the summer. He’d taken me to Lake Michigan in Wisconsin. We’d camped out and had a fire and ate cooked trout. It was the best time of my life. It seemed unreal that he would never open his eyes and laugh again. The sight of him sleeping forever overwhelmed me and I buried my faced in my mother’s side to rid myself of the sight. When I closed my eyes, I still saw him.

After the funeral, I couldn’t seem to keep myself away from my mother and that night, both my sister and I slept with her in her bed. The next month was very strange and seemed to go by in a blur. Christmas was very quiet and though I was very happy with the toys I got from Santa Claus, it had seemed so very empty. Jo went to bed early and Mama was reading a book. Sometime after I had fallen asleep, Jo came to my room and woke me.

"Jamie…get up…we have to go to the hospital. Mama’s having the baby." My eyes opened, but I didn’t register what she was saying. Numbly, I got up and began to dress myself, with some help from her. Jo carried me to the car and got into the backseat with me as our neighbor drove us to the hospital. We waited for hours as we slept awkwardly in the waiting room chairs. As the sun began to rise, however, a nurse approached us and leaned down to speak with Jo.

"Mrs. Calvert is finished and resting," she explained coldly, eyeing me like vermin. "See that you keep that child quiet," she added before walking away. Jo glared at her, taking my hand and leading me to Mama’s room. In her arms was a small bundle, which was obviously a baby.

"Hello, you two," she said tiredly, smiling at us. Jo smiled, guiding me toward the bed.

"How are you, Ma?" she asked, leaning down to kiss Mama’s cheek.

"Better, now that it’s over," Mama replied, beaming down at me weakly. "Jamie, do you want to meet your brother?"

"B-brother?" I asked cautiously, afraid she would take it back. I had wished for a brother to play with. Not that Jo wasn’t great, but she was still a girl and girls simply didn’t like to do all the things that boys do. I peered over Mama’s arm to look down at the new person in our lives. His hair was dark, like Daddy’s had been, and his eyes were blue like Mama’s.

"Oh, Ma, he is so cute!" Jo said, flopping into the chair beside the bed. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do or how I should react, so I simply stood in silence. I noticed a flash of concern in my mother’s eyes as she looked at me.

"Jamie, are you all right?" Her voice was gentle. I only nodded.

"When can I play with him?" I asked innocently, making them both laugh.

"In a few months, dear," she said easily, pulling me to her with her free arm and kissing my red hair. "Any ideas on what to name this little person?"

"I don’t know…" I said uncertainly. And I really did have no clue. Mama smiled at me sweetly. His name ended up being Luke. He was my brother and when we brought him home…everything changed. Everything.

Chapter Two
Stories