“She’s quite something,” Jonathan said easily.
If Benny had known that the curtain between him and Jonathan was drawing shut forever, he would have found a way to freeze the moment in time. But like so many moments where one cannot see their fleeting brevity or that they are poised on the brink of finality, he merely existed in the present. In the mix of elation, hurt, and anger therein.
Benny laughed suddenly. “No! I can’t just sit here and talk to you like this and fall into the easy camaraderie we had before. I keep seeing blasts that left innocent corpses in the streets! That young officer Jones! All of the fear you instilled. I can hardly believe it. And all for what?”
“Don’t you see? Something that starts as a seed of an idea can grow into something terrible. Ben, it twisted into something I didn’t recognize. But it was too late.”
Benny seized the moment for truth. “I just want to understand. We wanted to align ourselves with authority. To be redcoated men! Maintiens le droit!”
“Every night when I left the barracks, I saw a world that hadn’t decided what it wanted to be,” said Jonathan. “I read the papers from Toronto and even here in Chicago, and I saw how authority can corrupt. I wanted a chance for all of us to live equally. For women and children to find safety. For men of any rank to find value. Even in our little world, we were held under the thumb of those who had ascended the ranks. The Canadian military is still run by men who can purchase commissions. I didn’t want a world like that. I wanted to find a way to pair all of the grandest things about the Force with an opportunity for reform. I met a fellow at the gaming tables, and while he was a little rough around the edges, his heart was solid gold. I needed a friend. Then he introduced me to Ross and I had another friend.”
Benny cleared his throat, hoping his cousin didn’t see the flash of hurt in his eyes. “You had me.”
“I couldn’t talk to you about this! Ben, you worshipped authority and fell straight into line. You would blindly defend the uniform forever and into any danger. I needed someone who could help me try out a new voice. Of whom I could ask questions. And once I had a taste of anarchy, a chance to submit to something of my own choosing and not a logbook or an inspected kit, I found my calling.”
“A calling that let you tie your signature into wires that would kill dozens,” Benny spat. “You betrayed me every time you flicked the flame and set off an explosion.”
Jonathan shook his head vehemently. “You know I didn’t murder those people. Ross took the signature, and it got out of hand!”
“Then why didn’t you leave?”
“I had pledged myself to this higher cause and purpose. I couldn’t just go back to Riverton to break my mother’s heart. I couldn’t turn myself in at Regina. I felt I had to see it through to the end.” He smiled sadly. “I believed it would all straighten itself out and come back to what it was: a glorious idea.” Jonathan’s eyes pleaded. “Then I needed to stay to find a way to end Ross forever. He was bandying about putting my signature on things. I would never be free of him. I knew they would send you for me, and I knew that you would find me. Who uses a Turk’s knot to tie off a wire? Some part of me always wanted you to find me. Even before I consciously knew it. Thus, the trademark.” Jonathan scratched the back of his neck. “But I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” There was a rare ripple of vulnerability in Jonathan’s voice. “And that’s the worst part of all, Ben. Losing your opinion of me.”
“I didn’t want to believe you would hurt anyone. I tried to hold out no matter what they said of you. I knew you better than everyone. But it became harder and harder to convince others. I still stubbornly thought there was some mistake.” Benny stopped and examined his cousin: same bright eyes, though smudged with purple circles from exhaustion, and same features that made the girls snatch a second look. “But then even I had no choice. I saw those knots, and I knew them as well as a fingerprint. Your fingerprint. And I was losing my faith in someone I had always believed in.”
“You were always more grounded, Ben. It was easy for you to believe in Grandfather’s God. I always wanted to find the next perfect voice.”
“And you found a perfect war.”
“Everything’s a battle,” Jonathan said. “Chicago in particular interested me because of Roosevelt. He has his own battle. They sing a song—all of his throng—‘Onward, Christian Soldiers!’—and they wave their banners and follow him. Everything is a battle. Even a belief in God.”
“A battle?”