Lost

"Do you know the old man by at the end of Bellflower Street?" May asked her brother, Jun.

Jun shook his head. "Who?"

May smiled mischievously. "You don't know? Apparently he served in World War I."

"Like Father?"

"No, you idiot. Father served in the second World War."

Jun stared up at May with eyes wide. May always knew more than he did. She knew everyone's birthdays, when the sun went down, and how to multiply. Jun, on the other hand, had trouble reading books and adding numbers. Jun liked hearing stories though. He couldn't read well, but oftentimes he would attend the live read-in sessions at the library.

"My friends were talking about him the other day. Apparently a bullet went straight through his knee and he now walks with a limp all the time. He also sits by the front porch of his house all day and sleeps with drool all over his face. Gross."

Jun was suddenly intrigued with the old man. It not was not really the drooling part of him, but rather the bullet in the knee part that seemed interesting. It was like straight out of a hero's tale.

The next day was a Saturday. There was no school, so Jun stole a couple of cookies from the cookie jar, wrapped them in a handkerchief, and stuffed it into his pockets. Before he left, he also slipped the jam into his other pocket. He skipped down to the end of Bellflower street and looked to the left and right of the two houses at the end. One didn't have a porch. The other one did. Jun went to the house with the porch and set down by the steps. He waited.

And waited.

He ate one cookie and waited.

After a few hours, the front door of the porch creaked open. Jun widened his eyes at the tall figure clad in a brown patched bathrobe and gray house slippers. The old man had a slight stubble on his chin and a cigar stuck at the corners of his mouth.

"Hah?" His accent was English. The old man squinted his eyes at Jun. "Who is this brat here?"

Jun quickly fished out his cookies and presented them to the old man. "Here's some cookies my mother made this morning," he quickly said, "If you would like, you can-"

"Gah. Save it for yourself. I can't understand why kids like you like those sweet stuff. Rots your teeth."

"I've got jam too, if-"

"Jam?" The old man raised his eyebrows. "What brand? Peacock?"

"Yes, Father bought it yesterday."

"Give it to me." The old man snatched the jam from Jun. He quickly snapped open the lid and began to dig his fingers in the red gooey substance and spoon it into his mouth. "Ah, reminds of those day with the young fellas. Always tea, jam, and biscuits."

Jun's ears perked up. "Are you talking about your time in World War One?"

The old man nodded as he sucked on his fingers. "Ye. I was... sixteen at the time. Haha, the minimum age to enlist in the army was eighteen. It was the first time I had my birthday twice in a day... some of my friends had their birthdays three times in a day."

"It sounds like you had a lot of friends."

"Friends?" The old man paused. "Yes. I guess you can call them that. We all just wanted something exciting to happen in our lives."

"Then?" Jun's eyes brightened. "Did something exciting happen?"

"Exciting? Well, we got sent to the trenches. Horrible place. It was always wet, sticky, and smelly. None of us liked it."

"What did you do in the trenches?"

"We slept in holes. Marched from place to place. Finally, it was time for battle."

The battle! A hero's courage that brings out his innate potential, his true self! Everything that a story led up to, it led up to here! Jun earnestly listened the old man.

But the old man did not speak.

...

The ground shook violently once again. Everyone laid crowded around the trench. Each one held their rifle tightly. The atmosphere was tense and unwavering. At one point, one boy could not take it anymore. He broke into a sniffling cry.

"Heuk, hick..."

"Someone better shut him up or I'll shoot him!" The captain hissed. Everyone knew that he wouldn't joke around in this situation. Five minutes ago, everyone would've laughed it off.

The ground shook again, and this time, debris rained down upon them. Every succeeding explosion was louder than the last.

Finally, it was time. The captain shouted a loud, "GO! GO!" Everyone quickly got up and began to trudge through the rudged wasteland known as "No Man's Land."

Bullets whizzed by. The land nearby erupted whenever an artillery shell landed. To the side, the "tanks," as the captains called them rolled forward slowly. Everyone else followed suit in their advancement.

There was a searing pain in his knee. He could feel it, but at the same time, not. It was a strange numbness that let him continue on. He passed by bodies that were alive seconds before. He walked through pools of blood that stuck to his feet like glue. Finally, the captain in front told everyone to jump into the hole in front.

"Mummy..."

He turned around. He knew the man. He could tell because of his sun-spotted freckles. They both ate lunch together yesterday. His left eye was hanging out. Half of his intestines hang precariously over his body.

"Mu.. mummy..."

...

"I had to shoot him. I had to." The old man let out a shuddering sob. He gritted his teeth. "I killed my friend. I had to."

Jun did not understand.

"No, I shouldn't be telling a kid this. You wouldn't understand..."

He was right. Jun did not understand.

"Did you win?"

The man paused. "Yes, I guess we did win, didn't we?"

"Did you defeat the enemy?"

"The Germans? Why, it was also late into the war, but all of the prisoners of war were all younger than me. They were only fifteen years old... it was good that they surrendered."

"You didn't kill them?"

"Why would I kill them?"

"Well, they murdered your friend, didn't they?"

The old man erupted into a large bout of laughter. "Hahaha... listen boy. When you enter a war, you'll start wondering yourself. Who exactly am I fighting for? What am I exactly fighting for? What am I fighting against? These, morals and value I've held up until now-- will they save me from this damn war? I'll tell you the answer, boy, and it's no. It's nothing. When I came back, I've gained nothing but a limp leg. I've lost nothing, and yet I had never felt so empty in my life before. Do you understand, boy?"

Jun did not understand.

The old man suddenly seized Jun's shoulders. His grip was solid and tight. Jun struggled under his grasp. Jun tried to yell out, but something was lodged in his throat. It must be remnants of a cookie.

"I tried to tell everyone," he whispered, "But no one listened to me. Even when I exaggerated, even when I lied. And finally, it dawned upon me. No matter how much I screamed-" His bloodshot eyes met Jun's frightened ones.

"-no one would hear me."

It took a few seconds for the old man's words to sink in. A tear rolled down Jun's cheek. He began to cry.