Mark had a baby brother—for four whole days. As a three-year-old, he didn’t understand the small box at the front of the church, not big enough for him to fit in, but almost. It wasn’t until he was five that his parents explained who Jared was, his tiny brother he had never even seen.
That night, he dreamed about him. Jared would have been two, if he’d lived, but in the dream, he was running across a meadow of purple flowers, chasing Mark. Mark stopped and tackled the smaller boy in a bear hug and they fell, laughing among the flowers. He had his little brother back. Then Mark woke up.
Every night that Mark thought about Jared, he dreamed about him and as the years passed, Jared grew with him. The night before he went to college, he and Jared rode black motorcycles across a barren plain, while an impossibly large moon rose in front of them behind iron-tipped mountains. The night before his wedding, Mark dreamed about sitting in front of the church, rubbing the anticipation sweat from his palms onto his tuxedo pants. Jared sat next to him, silently.
Three years later, Mark thought about Jared right before sleep, but in the dream, he was alone, standing on a wild beach, the sea breeze blowing in his hair. Jared was gone and for the first time in a dream, Mark felt a crushing loneliness come over him, as if Jared had died again; had died for real this time. Somehow, he knew that he would never see Jared again.
Mark woke up with the morning sun glowing on the bedspread. The bathroom door opened and his wife came out. There seemed to be a glow about her too as she sat down next to him and gave him a hug. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.
He nodded, too surprised to say anything. “It’s a boy,” he said finally.
Her eyebrows went up, along with the corners of her mouth. “Oh really? You’re sure?”
“I’ve got a feeling,” he said, smiling. “Let’s name him Jared.”
The Green-Walled Tower 
February 4th, 2014 at 10:43 pm
Touching. Poignant. Made me think of a song that I like to play when I want to hear something to make me cry.
February 4th, 2014 at 10:45 pm
Thank you. It just kind of came to me, I’m not sure where from.
February 4th, 2014 at 10:56 pm
David, this is very different from what I’ve come to expect from you. It is, of course, beautifully written, which is the same, but I anticipated something more quirky? Horrific? This one is great.
janet
February 5th, 2014 at 8:27 am
I like to write the full range, although I usually gravitate to quirky or dark. Whatever comes to me at the time. 🙂
February 4th, 2014 at 11:24 pm
Heartwarming!
Lovely story, David.
February 5th, 2014 at 12:28 am
Very cool idea. The soul of Jared stayed with him until that soul was needed in a new baby. I love the warmth of this piece. It could have come across as brooding, but it didn’t. It felt soft and loving and comfortable. A tale beautifully told.
February 5th, 2014 at 12:52 am
This is very nice – I especially like that moment with the glow on the bedspread.
http://www.awordofsubstance.wordpress.com
February 5th, 2014 at 3:34 am
That’s really beautiful. And also creepy, although I’m not sure it’s supposed to be creepy…
February 5th, 2014 at 8:30 am
It can be creepy. 🙂
February 5th, 2014 at 1:08 pm
so finally Jared is coming back to life in the form of the baby. A beautiful, moving story. well-told
February 5th, 2014 at 1:12 pm
This is one of your most beautiful stories David. simply amazing! just loved, loved, loved it!
February 5th, 2014 at 1:32 pm
I’m glad. That makes me happy. 🙂
February 5th, 2014 at 4:34 pm
those flowers are pretty, and the child is absolutel cuddly 🙂
February 12th, 2014 at 9:36 am
Nice……:)
February 15th, 2014 at 10:19 pm
Lovely…
See me on http://livingwithyourlove.wordpress.com/