O for Obligation
Five year old Don could barely contain his excitement. Standing by the front window, hopping from one foot to the other. His mum was coming home today, and she was bringing baby Charlie with her. Don had only seen Charlie once and he had been sleeping. Lying on his back, his little arms and legs moving every now and then. Don had been allowed to touch one of Charlie's tiny hands. It had curled instinctively around Don's finger and squeezed lightly. He had stared wide eyed at the tiny figure in the cot, not quite believing that it was his little brother.
That had been two days ago and now they were on their way home. Alan had spent the day in a frenzy cleaning the house from top to bottom. Don had tried to help but had been so worked up with anticipation that he caused more mess then he cleaned. Every five minutes or so, he would run from one end of the house to the other, checking to see if they had arrived yet. Alan had told him repeatedly that he was the one who was going to pick them up so they couldn't come home until he went to get them, but Don was so excited that he forgot the words as soon as they were in his head.
When Alan finally left for the hospital and Mrs Wallace from next door came to watch Don, he planted himself in front of the window and didn't move until he saw the car pull up the driveway. The excitement overwhelmed him suddenly and he squealed with joy, startling poor Mrs Wallace. He ran to the front door, jumping up to pull on the handle. Once it was open, he could see his dad walking towards him carrying a bag, and behind him, his mum, holding what looked like a bundle of blankets.
"Hey, Donny."
Alan dropped the bag just inside the door and scooped Don up in his arms. From higher up, Don could see the bundle in his mum's arms had a shock of black hair, and leaning closer he could see Charlie's face just peaking out, his eyes half closed.
"Baby Charlie."
"That's right Donny, Charlie's just a baby. You have to be careful with him because he's only very small."
Alan's words barely registered in Don's mind, he was so caught up with the idea of his little brother finally being home. Not that they needed to. From that moment on Don knew that he could never do anything to hurt his little brother.
As the months passed, Don's affection to Charlie grew. It got to the point where Margaret couldn't do anything to Charlie without Don being present. Feeding, bathing, even changing his nappy, Don insisted on being told about every movement of his baby brother. When Don started school, he and Alan would fight every morning, Don begging for just five minutes more to spend with Charlie. The school even complained about Don being late everyday.
The questions also became a problem. Younger children are known to ask lots of questions, but Margaret found that she was spending more time explaining what she was doing than actually doing it. And Don wouldn't be persuaded.
At bath time he would pepper his mum with questions.
"Why are you holding his head?" "Why can't we put him in the big bath?" "Can we put him in the sink?" "When do babies learn to swim?" "Can I teach Charlie to swim?"
At dinner time Don would practically sit on Margaret's knee, his face close to Charlie's own as his little brother chewed on mashed up food.
"Why do you have to make his food mushy?" "Can you make my food like that, too?" "Can baby's have chocolate cake?" Can I give Charlie chocolate cake?" What if I mash it up?" "Can I have chocolate cake?"
Don's attachment to Charlie was so strong that Margaret would frequently find Don sleeping in the rocking chair in Charlie's room, instead of his own bed. And whenever Charlie start crying Don would get so worked up that Alan would have to take him outside to calm him down.
Then one morning when Margaret, Charlie and Don were playing together in the lounge room, Margaret received a phone call. After placing Charlie on the couch surrounded by pillows, she walked just out of sight. Two minutes later as she finished up, a high pitch scream came out of the other room.
Rushing back in she found Don standing by the couch where Charlie had been, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes, jumping up and down, clearly distressed. Charlie was out of sight and as Margaret walked round the couch she saw that he was now lying on the floor, cushioned by the pillows she had placed there before taking the call. He was gargling happily, unaware that he was now two feet lower than before.
Picking Charlie up with one arm Margaret put the other around Don and guided him to the couch. Whispering soothing words she managed to calm Don down with a little help from Charlie. He seemed oblivious to his older brother's anxiety. Leaning over Margaret's lap he grabbed at Don's nose, catching it momentarily before Don swatted his hand away. Charlie giggled with delight.
"Donny, Charlie wants you to know he's okay. Donny." Margaret pulled him closer and stroked his hair. Don tried to pull away but Margaret held him close. "What's wrong?"
Don scowled and looked away, and Margaret could tell that he was trying not to cry. She found it strange that her eldest could cry so easily when someone else was in trouble but when it came to his own emotions he would shut down immediately.
Stifling a sob, Don turned to look at his mum. "He could have died."
Margaret had to hold back a laugh. "Donny, Charlie's fine."
"But he could have been hurt. He's only a baby. He can't take care of himself. What if something happens to him?"
Don looked up at Margaret with tears in his eyes and Margaret's heart melted at his concern for his little brother. She leaned down and kissed him on the head.
"How can anything happen to Charlie when he's got you as a big brother?"
That night just before going to bed, Margaret went to check on Don, not surprised to find his bed empty. Next she went to Charlie's room, chuckling to herself as she surveyed the room. Charlie was fast asleep in his cot while Don was curled up on the rocking chair, covered in a blanket. A small plastic hammer clutched in his right hand, ready to fight off anyone who tried to hurt his little brother.