“It’s Dad. It’s bad. Come quick.”

"I guess this makes us blood brothers.” Justin looked solemnly down at their fingers, now scratched and bloody from the bare branches of the oak tree they’d just scaled.

“Aren’t we blood brothers already? I mean, we are brothers.”

“You’re so lame, Jonathan. This makes it real. A pact. Now we have to promise solemnly that we’ll always stick together, no matter what.”

“Uh sure. Right. No matter what.” He linked his fingers with Justin’s and promised.

There wasn’t much opportunity to part ways. Only 15 months apart, Justin and Jonathan were inseparable. People often assumed they were twins and they never bothered to correct them.

Justin was the leader fearless, feisty and full of life. Jonathan followed, glad he didn’t have to make the decisions, reaping the benefits of Justin’s superior skills.

Years of living in the Midwest taught them both survival and a love for the great outdoors. Family biking trips, white water rafting, cross country camping, the boys were encouraged by their parents to think quickly and use their skills to survive independently.

“Gotta use your mind, think on your feet,” their dad often said. “Don’t rely on anyone, and you’ll never get the rug pulled out from underneath you.”

Justin graduated first. Quarterback for his high school team, he had a generous scholarship waiting for him at Oklahoma State University.

Jonathan spotted the brochure one evening as he was looking under his brother’s bed for his hiking boots. “What’s this Birthright business,” he scoffed, tossing the pamphlet on Justin’s bed. “You plan on pulling oldest son’s rights on me?”

“Nah, just a trip backpacking this summer. Gary and Drew are going. Thought I would too.”

“Cool! Hanging around Europe?”

“Nope, Israel.”

“Israel? Watcha want to spend time there for? Way too many terrorists.”

But the prospect of hard hikes and heady adventures propelled Justin to the tiny land.

He returned two weeks later, sporting a tan, with a head full of stories about Bedouins, camels, and endless sand.

The next year Jonathan had the application for Birthright filled out before the end of the school year. He was planning on following Justin to OSU the following September. Although his scholarship was based on his grades, not his football goals, little else had changed between them.

He flew off to Israel, eager to hit the grit of the desert and top Justin’s hair-raising adventures.

He returned two years later sporting a black hat, with a head full of values and philosophy.