Jonas Agonistes

You said you gave him hints in your answers. What do you mean?

"It was with him that I discussed literature so often. 'The Divine Comedy' openly mentioned in the first question. The second, 'Paradise Lost'-we'd spent hours one afternoon discussing the mind 'can make a heaven of hell' passage. I think his questions indicated he felt bad about things. The way he asked them, in public, and his disappearing, meant he is suffering too. I think he knew he was not strong enough to stand up to the captain. Perhaps he blames himself for Shannon Smith and Ray Zumwalt dying with that machine gun. But I think he suffers something. He showed up-I think that in itself means he regrets the loss of our friendship."

How do you feel about him now?

Jonas was pensive. "I don't know. Better-knowing that it mattered to him. Better. It's not perfect. But it is better than the years of silence. I sent him a letter years ago, just saying that I hoped our friendship survived the problems, asking him to contact me."

You've never mentioned that before.

"I'm an onion with many layers."

Callie rolled her eyes, and Jonas laughed.

"He did not respond. I put in the letter that he'd had a chance to do something good, and I thought he should think about that. I'd said the same thing about Calley, at Son My. I think I was trying to salvage the friendship, offer a way ahead. But it didn't work. It's kind of my fault."

Your fault?

"Yeah, I am convinced we officers were there not just to carry out orders, but to understand their purpose and implement them to reach that purpose. We are not just cogs in a machine, not in that situation. And if it costs us our careers, even our lives, it was our job to save those people. And that was obvious to Alvy at the bookstore. My fault. I am tired of Marines not taking responsibility for their orders, their actions, and their motives. Especially the officers. We're Americans. It means something, to me at least. It means we try to do good."

Maybe the bookstore is a start.

"Maybe."

*

It was an October Saturday morning that I spoke to Mom about my relationship with Emily.

"Mom, I'd like to ask her to marry me." Mom's eyes got serious and teary and she hugged me. "I'd like your help picking out a ring, something I can afford and that she'll like. We can do that whenever you're free, but I'd like to ask her soon."

"We can go today, if you'd like. Leffler's? Somewhere else?"

Mitch Leffler owned a high end jewelry store in Sky Grey and was a longtime family friend. People came from miles away to have him design or mount jewelry. Mom and Dad had grown up with Mitchell. I don't know if they'd ever gone to another jeweler.

"Leffler's is perfect. Whenever you're ready." She was ready in two minutes.

That Friday evening, Emily and I went to dinner and then a Broadway style musical in Cincinnati. I wore a suit and Em wore a lovely, elegant purple dress that slung from shoulder to shoulder, and a warm wrap instead of a coat. It was not cold yet, at least that evening, and she looked stunning. We spoke in soft tones of us and the future and how we were going to live. We talked about having children, where we would send them to school, and places we might live depending on future jobs and decisions we would face as we grew. She held my arm as we walked from restaurant to theatre, and then from theatre to the car. The night was clear.

At her door, I put my hands on her shoulders as a cool wind blew her red hair. "Emily, I think it is that time we spoke of." She is so small that I decided one knee was not trite. She put her hands on my shoulders then. "I do not want to wait longer. I hope you think I can make you happy. I know you you can make my life better, and me better. Please, will you marry me?"

I had hidden the ring in my jacket inside pocket. I pulled it out and opened the little box. She looked right at my eyes, not at the box, almost dismissing it for the moment. "If you had no ring, the answer would be yes. If you could never afford one, yes. If someday we have hardship and must sell it for whatever we can get, yes. I love you. I never want to be long from you." She leaned forward, taller than I on my knee, and kissed me softly on the lips. Then she held out her left ring finger, and I put the ring on it. It was a little loose, but a good guess.

"It's beautiful," she said, admiring it. I stood, before I got a splinter in my trousers.

"Would you like to go in and show your parents? Or should I leave?"

"No, you stay, and yes, we're going in now." Her mom and dad were there then, still up, anticipating the event probably. There were hugs, kisses, congratulations and best wishes, and a phone call to Chris, now working in Columbus with a small law firm. Emily was gushing as she spoke, which was unlike her so she must really have been happy, and she had to talk first to Chris. Then she said, "He wants to talk to you."

"Yeah, Chris? Great, huh?"

"I just can't believe she threw in the towel and is marrying you. I had a hundred lawyers lined up to date her."

"Well, what can you do? You acted too late."

"Seriously, Jonas, she's a great girl and you two are great together. Now I gotta find someone so good for me. Congratulations, bro to be."

"It's a great feeling, Chris. Never felt like this."

"Happy for you, Jonas. She sounds the same way. Wish I were there tonight."

I said, "I'll be in touch. Gonna give this phone to your mom." I handed the phone over. It was a little after midnight.

Emily and her dad were talking while Mom was on the phone. I interrupted. "It's a little late, but would you like to go show my Mom and Dad? Or wait until tomorrow?"

"I think we have to go now, don't we?" There must be a protocol to engagement announcements.

So we did. It made a late but happy night for the Scotts and the Simmses. My mom threw her arms around Emily and hugged the breath-almost the life-out of her. Dad shook my hand, and then it was his turn to hug Emily and he engulfed her. Mom threw her arms around me and kissed me on the lips and said, "She is so good, Hon. You are so lucky."

"Yes, I am."

I returned Emily to her house around 2:30 am. It was a tender and tired kiss at her door, and we parted for the night. Some days should never end.

*

"Mom," Emily said, "it is...we haven't even... Mom, he asked me to marry him, and we have not had sex. We've had all these intimate moments, we kiss and hold hands and it is just so unmodern. He doesn't worry about that rationalization about sexual compatibility that justifies so many people in premarital sex. It is not that we have anything against it, but the commitment was so important to him and he had so much trouble getting past his PTSD. I'm just saying that for whatever reason, he is not just after sex or control or that crap I had to fight with Carl about."

Her mother smiled. "I think he's special in a lot of ways. That picture of him carrying the doomed child, the impact it had on him, the acceptance of responsibility in that fight... He is so mild, seeks no reward, accepts the erroneous blame because he knows he did right things. Your father and I have read everything, and he is just the most remarkable, gentle, good, man. His Marines loved him.

"And we couldn't be prouder that you have chosen to marry. He loves you. It's all over him."

"Yeah, he does. It is a wonderful moment." Emily held her mom's hand.

"Have you decided a date?"

"Generally. We'd like to get married at our church, and hopefully he'll be able to convince his priest to participate. He thinks his parents would prefer his church be involved. I think he wants it, too. Soon, Ma. Before Christmas."

"Good. We'll call Reverend Lunker and see when we can hold the ceremony. What about a reception?"

"We'd like one of the church reception halls, both have them. It might be more convenient if it's in our church basement but we could go over to Merciful God-they have a larger room in their school they let people use for medium or small receptions. We're thinking a hundred people?"

Her mom was nodding. "Whatever you two want. I'll call the pastor. And the Reverend Lunker will want to talk to you as a couple-they used to have classes for couples about to wed. You and Jonas should go visit your pastors and be sure you do what you need done."

"Maybe we should elope."

"It solves a lot of problems. Your father has often regretted that we did not..."

Emily smiled.

*

Jonas and Emily spoke with her pastor about marriage, family, children, faith, and themselves. Pastor Lunker was an old man. He had known the Scotts since he'd first come to Fairfield in the 1960s as a young assistant. He knew Emily's parents, her grandparents, her uncles and aunts. He had baptized Emily.

He did not know Jonas.

"If the Catholic priest refuses to participate, will you go through with the wedding, Jonas?"

"Yes. But I expect he'll participate. He's a friend-we grew up together."

Emily was smiling.

Jonas finished, "But, yes, I would go through with the ceremony if the priest refused."

The pastor noticed that Jonas seemed uncomfortable talking about his religious beliefs. "Are you a practicing Catholic, Mr. Simms?"

"I go to Mass. I believe many things Catholics profess. I think for myself, though. I went through a bad time, when I believed God was at best inactive in the world and then that He probably did not exist at all. Something in the war that happened, damaged my faith. But I have thought about it, and my faith that God is good is recovering."

"Do you love Emily?"

"Yes. I wondered if I would ever find someone, and then I met her. She is great. I went years without a friend, before that."

She said, "Pastor, what is the purpose of this discussion?"

He thought. "It is to encourage the premarital couple to consider all those factors that are important and that might not be considered in a modern courtship. Have you considered children? Their religion? Where you will live? What are your goals over time? What careers do you want to pursue? What in your past could affect your life together-diseases or injuries or relationships do not just go away. This meeting is to encourage you to face and discuss all those things that can influence your marriage for years to come. One of my colleagues used to teach that in general terms, the things you conflict over now, the things you argue about now, are the same as you will argue about in twenty years. I think he might be right. I'm not sure."

Emily said, "Jonas and I have our baggage. His is more...profound. But mine is there. I had an earlier engagement, which I called off several years ago. Jonas had a major, traumatic event in the war in Afghanistan, which caused him PTSD and must be some of the reason for his quietness."

Pastor raised his eyes and looked sharply first at Emily-whose clear forthright eyes were sincere-and then at a man. And the claim of PTSD-it made some sense.

Jonas spoke. "Pastor, I want Emily to love me. I believe in God, but I am still considering His nature. I may consider it for the rest of my life. I will get our children to church on Sundays, at her church or mine-we'll work that out. I believe that God sees the whole person, so if it is a mistake to raise my kids Presbyterian and that is our decision I trust God to see my failure is made in good faith, pardon the pun. I trust Emily to make decisions with me. She is reasonable and beautiful and marvelous."

Pastor smiled. "Have you had therapy for the PTSD?"

Jonas responded, "Yes. I still do."

"You do not want to embellish?" the pastor asked.

Jonas smiled and said, "I would prefer not to." He looked at Emily, and she recognized the line from a Melville story.

The session became a discussion then, ranging over the topics. It was less an interview or class than a conversation about important and personal topics.

Emily spoke of her flying, which she relied on more and more for a relatively steady income. It was likely her father would want her to take over his part of the business, which was practically the whole business since his partner let him run everything as long as there were good profits.

"I am not sure I want my future to be about business. I love literature too, but the money is much less. I've toyed with writing. And I'd like to teach-I love seminars discussing books and writers."

Jonas responded, "Are all these things mutually exclusive? Can a writer also lead seminars, fly planes as desired, and run a business? It sounds like you would be at a level in running the company that you could set hours, hire managers if it is too much."

Emily considered. "I still have several steps to getting the licenses I need for our biggest planes. And Dad is considering buying a larger one. I don't know."

Pastor said, "These are conversations worth having-and they don't have to end. They can develop over time as interests and opportunities come and go. Emily, I can imagine a time when you are flying one day a week, running a seminar two times, writing in between. How do Jonas's plans complement or fit with yours? Or don't they?"

Jonas shook his head. "I like what I'm doing. I teach high school in the day, I have the master's now, I want to add in coaching a sport, maybe two seasons. And my summers are mine. I might try to teach a course or two of history for summer learners, maybe over at Miami or Dayton, UC. Or a community college. But I think it can be the steadier income to smooth out any of Emily's rough spots with flying and teaching. We can make it work, I think."

Pastor went on, "When do you want the children? How can you fit them into all these ideas?"

Emily said, eagerly, "I think we should have the kids sooner. Dad is still going to run the plane shop for the foreseeable future; now is the time for us to build that family. The kids would be in school when Dad starts winding down; I can be reducing the flying and building up the teaching, over time."

Pastor said, "I think you have a good plan, but it is chock full of activity and work. Work is good, don't get me wrong, but you should talk about how you would handle a seriously ill child, or one of you disabled, or whatever. Everything must be flexible in a family. There's an old joke that when people make plans, God laughs. Keep your love for one another in your eyes and minds, and visible to all. Remember that your love for each other will allow most of your goals to be met in the long run. Love enhances marriage and career and family and all of life. Married, your every decision is the decision of the couple. And if your plans get in the way of your love, make new plans. It's your life together that builds the family. All the rest is just business."

Pastor Lunker stood then, and held out his hand to Jonas.

"Jonas, it's been a pleasure to meet you. I'm proud to conduct your wedding. Hopefully Father Rick will make it, too."

"Thank you, Pastor. I'll think about what you've said."

Emily said, "Pastor, thank you so much. We'll be in touch soon."

Jonas AgonistesChapter 9: Genuflection to Love

It was a Saturday morning in early November that they met with Pastor Lunker, and the meeting ended just afternoon. They left hand in hand, Emily occasionally leaning her head against Jonas's shoulder. It was a grey fall day. Most of the leaves were fallen, and there was a sharp cold wind. They walked to Emily's house and she invited Jonas in. As soon as she closed the door, Emily removed her coat and hung it. Then she kissed Jonas as he removed his.

"My parents are in Columbus, visiting Chris."

"Oh? When will they be back?"

"Mom assured me not before tomorrow night. She was very specific. Emphatic, even."

Jonas kissed her softly, then hard. They broke their embrace and kiss and he said, "The world is not as I thought it was. My girlfriend and her mom are conspiring to get us to have sex."

Jonas grabbed her hand. "I'm going to make reservations at the Iron Forge. We'll have dinner around 8, if I can get the reservation. Then we'll go to the Old Fort Hotel, again if I can get reservations."

Emily leaned into him. "So you don't want to have sex with me in my room?"

"I would like to have sex with you here on the wet ground, on a table, anywhere. But you are too...too special for our first time to be in a place that you see as home and mom and dad. I think it is just too adolescent. I'd like to dance at the Forge, and make it a little romantic. Is that okay?"

She held his arm. "Yes, it sounds great."

He called for the reservations and they were in luck. The Forge got them in at 8:30 and the Old Fort was full, but the Indian Motel had a room for them. Jonas told his parents he would be out all night and he knew he wasn't fooling anyone, but there were no raised eyebrows. He wore a dark suit and bought a corsage for Emily. She wore a darker blue dress, with a white shawl and her winter coat for the colder weather. She liked the corsage, which she put on her left breast with his fumbling help.

The Iron Forge was all that he'd heard. It's specialty was flash seared steaks, and you do not dare ask for rare, medium or well-done. The chef was rumored to come out of the kitchen to identify and berate anyone who did not want steaks that were flash seared-in the long run, the steaks were crusty and medium rare inside. So they ordered the flash seared steak.

Emily was stunning in her dark dress. Somehow she'd had her hair done up, and her neck was lovely. She attracted some attention in that dining room, and Jonas felt that for once he was not drawing more looks for notoriety than she for pulchritude. Checking her coat in the entryway, several men had not noticed her because of her stature but actually stumbled in haste clearing a path when she asked for pardon to proceed into the room.

They shared red wine and enjoyed the music in the other room, visible through a large doorway. There were a few couples dancing. Waiting for their order, Jonas asked her to dance and they performed a close and slow semblance of a box step. In this case, Jonas felt he was holding her back; she moved with a grace and rhythm, and she was one of those girls who liked fast dance. Jonas decided he wanted lessons-and determined to get some before his wedding next month, if he could.

It was a sweet and sexy and wonderful evening. They arrived at the Indian Motel about 11:30. The room was classy, and they felt nervous entering. They each had a small bag with clothes for the morning, and Emily had a black babydoll to wear immediately. Jonas waited while she prepared, pulling back the covers on the bed and turning on one dim light. When she emerged, he was actually breathless. Her body was small and slim and pale, freckled skin was set off by red hair down around her shoulders. Her arms were defined and legs... She was perfect, Jonas thought. He wondered, How do I live up to the beauty and character of this woman? She stood at the entrance to the sleeping room, her left hand high on the wall, one knee bent in a pose. She did not smile-there was something else in her eyes.

Jonas finally stood, and his breath returned. He put his finger to his lips, letting her see he was happy in the silence. He reached her, put his hands on her bare hips. He leaned to her ear and said, "You take my breath away. Literally." Then he moved his lips to hers, softly, and her arms were up around his neck. He lifted her, lips still locked together. He did not break the kiss, but he lifted under her knees and carried her to the bed. He broke that kiss to gently place her on the bed. He stood beside the bed, undressing as she watched him.

She thought, He is so handsome... I did not realize his arms and shoulders. And his eyes see into me. He soon stood beside her naked, and she saw what she'd touched through clothes in torrid passing moments, now stiff, now upraised. It looked bigger than she'd imagined, and she wondered if it would hurt her. He just stood, and she reached out and touched his side, his stomach, then his dick. She inhaled at its hardness and size and the way it looked with her hand wrapped about it. She said, still in their bedroom whisper, "Move up here, Jonas." He sidled to her and she took his dick in her mouth. It was not a passion, but there was heat in the act, her hand wrapped about him and her lips softly caressing, but it was more as if she was saying this too is about love. She took more of him into her mouth, opening as wide as possible and not able to do much more than the head. She swirled her tongue about the head and he groaned at the sensitivity. She looked up at him then, her lips about his dick, pulled them off and licked slowly, languorously about the velvet head. It was a tease to one in rut, but also a promise to one in love. She wanted him to feel the passion and heat and primality of sex with her, and know that as profane or lusty as the act could be it would always be her and him in love that mattered.