The wait

Light snores of my sister, laying on her bed, filled the stoic silence. Her body snuggled up like a shell, clutching the pillow with both fists. Getting up from my own, I walked around the house to pass the time. Leaning against the door of the adjacent room, I watched my parents holding each other, their eyes closed shut. Something inside me hoped as I walked away that they felt as peaceful as they looked. The house was still hot even with all the windows open, the air still and slow. My feet carried me to the front porch, the light breeze was gentle on my skin. For a few moments, I allowed myself to close my eyes, my jaw slightly relaxing and the arm holding my knees against my chest loosening. It’s quiet, that slight haze that takes over before sleep until shrill laughter of children crashes into memory, we’re running around, water splashing everywhere, the memory waking me up with a jolt. Chest heaving up and down, oxygen barely getting through. I guess none of that today.

 Sliding my hand over the rough wood of the chair, I was taken back to the day we got it. It was a bright blue set, the color was ridiculous, didn’t match our small house and wasn’t that comfortable. We got it still, because his excitement you couldn’t resist. Hurriedly we rushed back to set it up, in his daze he lost a bolt, and that’s how this chair would always break. It wasn’t until a few years that we realized why no matter where we put the chair aside, you would end up sitting on the broken chair ;he would always swap it back, so we could get a good heartly laugh when one of us falls. The paint was cracked now nails slightly digging into the wood, scrapping off the remaining blue tip, leaving it in dusky brown. Sight, all I could do was sight.

 Tilting my head back to the faint approaching steps, mum sat beside me, looking taken aback. I knew that look.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” I asked

“Not really” she replied, resting her back on the chair, preparing for the night ahead

Holding her hand, in the most reassuring tone I could muster “He’s not going to be among them I promise, he’s not” And when you desperately need hope, you believe whoever is giving to you. No matter how impossible, you grasp it. She seemed convinced, or wanted to be. Changing the subject, I asked

“Do you want me to make us something to eat?’’

She hesitated for a moment “I don’t know, no nothing to eat, maybe make us tea”

Complying, I stared to boil water on the stove. The yellow flames lighted up the kitchen, and when small bubbles made their way to the surface I turned it off. Heading back to the front porch with two cups of tea, and handed one to mother. She looked older today, her face was pale and her eyes sunken with tears. No matter how much she tried to hide it, no matter how much she hides her shaking hands, I see right through her. Sipping her hot drink, she nodded contently.

“When you and your siblings were young” she started “your father and I would always sit here at night, we would talk for hours. Mostly about the three of you” with a light chuckle “We would worry, a lot, I mean even the smallest things. For weeks you cried every morning pointing at your feet, and nobody could understand what was wrong with your damn feet”

I burst out laughing “my socks just didn’t feel right!”

“And how on earth was I supposed to understand that?” She couldn’t help joining in with a light laugh “Anna would drag that petty imaginary friend of hers wherever we went and it was starting to drive me crazy, at one point I thought I was starting to see her too”

“ Yeah she had a hard time letting her go, but she did eventually”

“After years, you learn that everything works out eventually. You just have to believe that one day, whatever it is, it will be alright’ she added wistfully

With that, we sat with our only company the shining full moon. In books, wear wolves would become vile tonight. It wasn’t so far from reality, the night hasn’t spared our grief, the minutes eating us away. It felt like it’s been so long since it’s been day.

We fell into a comfortable silence, slightly leaning against each other. Each filled with thoughts, some were too heavy to share. I don’t know how long it had been when I dozed for a bit, but not too long apparently. It was still dark outside, the air gently whistling around us.

Caressing my cheeks, she looked at me tenderly “Go back to sleep darling, you need it. I know you think nobody knows but I do. You barely sleep anymore.”

She was right, absolutely right, but I didn’t want to worry her, anymore than she was. “ No I do, I do, today was just” I took a sharp inhale “ just hard”

She smiled in understanding “remember what we would do every year?” “ he would make us buy that same cake, chocolate frosting because apparently there was no other flavors that counted as sweet, your dad never liked it but he ate it still”

“ yeah, I remember” a fond memory, a fond memory that did not nothing to the ache in my chest

I wondered where he was now. Was he eating? Where is he sleeping? Is he injured? How is he feeling? I knew nothing about him, none of us knew anything about him for days. Somehow we had to go on with our lives, as if nothing ever happened.

I didn’t know anything about this war except what the movies always told. But not in a thousand movies, not in a thousand years, could I have pictured this chest pain. Seeing your brother, your best friend, packing his bags to leave with teary eyes hiding his fears, and hugging you for what might be the last time. Years of childhood, laughs, and love suddenly meant to be forgotten. Always telling me what to do, but I guess he never got to telling me how to deal with him not being there anymore.

Somehow, through the pain, through the ache, that night passed. It was finally day again.

I ended up in bed, mum must have moved me to my room

Sitting up in bed gently, I heard the bell ring

In that small house of ours, I could hear the creaking of the front door finally letting light into these darkened rooms, and my mother’s tender

 “ yes?”

A firm voice responded,

“ Good morning, Mam, it’s about your son.”