XII: A Tribune Serial

Installment II

Written and illustrated by Caty Childress

A fire was burning; the remains of briefs and mediations would soon be nothing more than the smoke that seeped through their clothes and into their skin. The girl, the runner, and the soldier sit, warmed by this gentle blaze. They have ten hours left.

—

“Say, son,” Steven was the first to break up with the quietude, “How ‘bout we go around the circle ‘nd tell a little bit ‘bout ourselves? Me ‘n Marie already know each other, but we don’t know much about you.”

Davey pulled his jacket tight around his shoulders; he never was inclined to go sharing his life story with strangers. That was always her thing. She could speak for the whole of the couple. She was enough of a people person for both of them.

“I don’t mean t’ pressure you or anythin’. I just thought it might be kind of fun to get to know ya a bit better.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It might make for a good time…” What would she want for me?  “Yeah, yeah actually, that does sound fun. Let’s do it.”

Stevens' eyes lit up, his mouth upturned into a massive grin, “Alrighty, if you’re game too, kiddo,” he poked at Marie, who nodded in response, “then I guess we’ve got ourselves a way to spend the time.”

Davey let loose his jacket, fiddling with the ring on the chain around his neck instead. He looks down at the fire, then back up to Stephen, “ You first. Hit me.”

“I was born way back when, can’t even remember the year by now – too many other things worth keeping track of. Ma  was real young and Daddy wasn’t too much older. So, they sent me to my Great Aunt Maria’s home. She lived with her tomcat, Pickles, and I wouldn’t have gotten this far in life without her.

“Aunt Maria raised me when my parents were just kids themselves, but bless them, they did what they could,” he pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and swiped at his nose, “Ma ‘n Daddy in a real bad accident when I was about five or so. Neither of them made it to the end of that week. Real tragedy, that was. Too young. Too young, indeed.”

Davy clutched his chain and ring close to his chest. Marie leaned up against Steven’s side.

“Was about their age when the country decided ‘t was ‘bout time to send out the children’s brigade onto the battlefield. Aunt Maria wanted me to stick around town and go to trade school, but I just couldn’t bury the thought of burying my friends as they trickled back home, so I went against her wishes.

“Son, I can’t even begin to describe the nightmares I saw out there. I’m sure you don’t need anything more to make it hard to sleep…” his voice wavered momentarily, “but let me just say, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of holding someone you loved in your arms ‘nd knowing in your heart, it would be you next.”

Davey turned his head, the shadows and shimmering light hiding whether or not his face was dampened by tears. The hand that had been firmly clutching his necklace dropped into his lap. Steven blew his nose again.

“One night, a real late one,” he broke the silence, “I was out with a good pal from school on night watch, Tommy, his name was, Tommy Henriksen. Smart kid, always did better than me in school, that’s for sure.

“Well, anyway, Tommy and I were on watch, and just, outta nowhere, we were hit with this wild blitz of lights and bullets. The sounds were absolutely ringin’ through my ears, but what was truly overwhelming was the smell. Gunpowder ain’t exactly worth makin’ a candle of, but mix it with the blood of your fellow brothers as they fall, that’s what truly haunts ya.

“I heard Tommy screaming for me, but when I finally found him in the uproar, he was on stolen time. God, I didn’t have a clue what to do, only nineteen, after all. So, I just hitched him up on my shoulder and tried to get us both to safety.

“I don’t remember the exact order ‘f things, but I know I didn’t make it far before I went down too. Who’s to say if it was the bullets or terror that knocked me out, but whatever it was that ultimately signed me a deal for freedom from that field.

“I woke up in this makeshift hospital room, wounds dressed to the nines. A nurse came to check on me, and when I asked ‘bout Tommy, all she said was that she didn’t recognize the name,” he sniffed the handkerchief, “It was weeks before I found out what happened to my friend. I had already been shipped back home for my injuries. And do you know who it was to finally broke the news to me?”

“Who?” Davey’s face shone as he leaned back into the firelight. Steven felt a nudge at his arm, recognition from Marie of what he too had noticed.

“Well, kid, it was his mama. She’d been fixin’ up eggs and toast for breakfast when she heard a knock at the door. By the time she got there to answer, she just knew who would be on the other side. The kinda news a parent should never have to hear,” he shook his head.

“Lost a good kid that night, a smart one, who was usually so quick on his feet. Used to call him the Road Runner on account of how fast he was in training. Good kid. Too bad he didn’t make it.

“The whole rest of my recovery was rough. I couldn’t walk on my own for months, and somehow, there I was, wishin’ it was him instead of me to make it out alive. Funny thing, guilt is.

“Once I got back on my feet, I hopped around at a couple of jobs. Taught at a daycare for a few years; spent some time at the department store. Finally, landed a position in HR for the local tailoring company. Big fan of that place. Stuck around there ‘til I retired to the suburbs, where I was lucky enough to have some real carin’ neighbors,” he jabbed Marie in the side and was met with a wild grin, “Some of which I still keep in contact with.”

“Wow. That certainly is a lot of life only to end up back on the front lines.”

“Son, if I’d ‘ve known this is where I’d end up, I wouldn’t ‘ve felt all that bad about Tommy missing out on the future.”

“Say,” Davey started, then hesitated, his hand falling into his lap from the gesture out it had been frozen in.

“Say what, kid?”

“How…  how exactly do you move on? When you just, for example, hold a loved one in their final moments?” A life abridged, cut short by circumstance.

Steven took in a deep sigh. He lifted his cap to wipe his brow, “Well, I guess you just gotta keep on moving… ‘cause they can’t.”

“Mhm…”

“You know something about loss, son?”

“Yeah, I suppose I do.”

“ Why dontchya let us in on some of your story?”

The next installment of XII will be published in the February 20th Winter edition.