Jonathan and Other Weird Stories

Jonathan (one)

He came at night. After Funmi's mother read the last bible verse for the day, clung the enormous book to her breast, and strode to her bedroom with pouted lips—as though God had shown her a revelation of her death.

He came after Funmi's sister, Titi, kissed Funmi on her forehead with quivering lips. Funmi laid on her bed and smiled up at Titi, to assure her big sister she would be fine. Titi smiled back. An ugly scar stretched on Titi's neck, but Titi always tried to hide it with her hair. Funmi always noticed. Titi would bend her head this way and that way, so Funmi wouldn't see the scar.

As a final gesture, Titi flicked Funmi's light off. Just before the bulb died, Funmi saw a gleam in her sister's eyes.

Ten years ago, Funmi shared a bed with Titi, but they hardly ever saw eye to eye. Funmi was the little girl who was small and fragile, like a mouse. Titi was the bright daughter who made their mother proud. Funmi did not like that about Titi. It irked her, but she never showed it to anyone. Every night, their mother would walk into their room. Their mother would smile at Titi and caress her plump cheek, then look at Funmi as though Funmi was a leper. Funmi wanted it to end. One day, it did end. Funmi could not recall why, but something happened and Titi had to leave the room. Titi started sleeping far away from Funmi, leaving Funmi all alone.

It is better this way. Funmi has to learn to sleep alone, their mother had said one evening, as she gripped a pestle and pounded tomato in a mortar, grimacing like she was pounding all her enemies. Some tomato bits stained her gown, a few inches above her waist. It was red and dry and did not seem like it would go easily after washing.

He came after Funmi spent a couple of hours staring at her ceiling fan, watching the silver blades slice darkness; after she held on to her bedsheet as goosebumps crept in, coating her skin. He came right after lightning flashed and thunder roared, causing Funmi to shake and kick a table. Her bottle of pills fell off, rattled, and rolled away. A storm was coming. Funmi was close to hyperventilating. She did not want to be alone when the storm came. She needed a friend. A companion.

He came. He did not walk through her door, nor did he creep in through her window like the rats did. He just... came, and stood by her bedside, smiling subtly. The room was dark, for she never went to bed with the light turned on, still Funmi could see him clear as day. Cold air rushed into her room violently, through the open window, and the curtains danced like masquerades. She shivered beneath the dilapidated yard of cloth she wrapped herself in.

Funmi laid supine on her bed, staring right at him with fearful delight. 'Hi,' she said.

He was beautiful. His skin seemed lit up in the dark of her room and radiated a bronze glow. He was angelic. When he smiled, it seemed as though his eyes smiled as well. His chin was without beards, and he seemed as young as she was—eighteen.

He sat by her side, his happy eyes fixed on her. 'Hi.'

'What is your name?' Funmi asked.

'Jonathan.'

Funmi was pleased. She giggled and smiled, her teeth slightly clattering. 'I once had a friend named Jonathan. Years ago. But he had to go.'

Jonathan smiled broader, showing fine teeth like crystals. 'Now, you have another one. And I'm never leaving you. Ever.'

Their eyes locked together, unblinking. She stared deep into his tar-black eyes and found herself lost in them. An hour of beautiful silence must have passed by, before Funmi shook out of the trance.

'Are you real?' she asked.

Jonathan took her hand and held it. His hand was warm and soft, like a baby's butt. 'If you can't tell, does it matter?'

She stared in wonder, with her mouth agape. The night was ghost-quiet, save the nibbling sound of rats on her wooden door, the whistling air from the window, and her beating heart. 'No,' she said. 'It doesn't matter.'

Jonathan caressed her hand, and with every stroke, he sent chills across every inch of her skin. 'You are cold?'

Funmi bobbed.

He stood, walked to the window and slid the glass shut, keeping the cold out. He returned to her bedside, walking gracefully, almost like he was floating in the air, and sat beside her again. 'Better?'

'Yes,' Funmi said, and he sat there holding her hand again until she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When Funmi awoke in the morning, sun rays flooded her room, Jonathan was gone, the window was open again, and her bed was soaked with rainwater—as was she. Her nightgown was glued to her petite body, and her hair was wet and disheveled. Her skin was coated in goosebumps, still. Funmi gasped, alarmed. She jumped to her feet. Obviously, rain had attacked her while she slept, and she had had no idea. Her mother would kill her. She had no idea how she slept so peacefully, all through the night, even as drops of rain poured on her. She should have shut her window before the storm came in. But didn't Jonathan help her do that? He did. Yes, she remembered too clearly. He did, right?