My face is pressed against the cool car window. My eyes trailed the new sights quickly passing by. This time I got to ride shotgun so I wouldn’t be stuck in the middle of my brothers in the back seat. On a road trip like this there would usually be fight breaking out by now in the back seat. There usually be grunting, yelling, snorting, and laughing by now. Mom would have to yell and yell to get them to stop but no one ever listened. Then we would soon laugh it all off and continue pondering the wondrous adventures ahead.
One a road tip like this we would be happy to leave home and enjoy the new sights. But we would also get home sick and then be happy go back home. But this is not a road trip, or any trip that’s anything like what we’ve ever done.
Here instead of laughing and fighting we all sit quietly in our own sea of thoughts. Here we sit in our own sorrow.
Mom was hit particularly hard. She was crying herself to sleep at night. And instead of getting up early with the sun, staying in bed until one. Big dark bags now hang under her blue eyes. Tears stained her once rosie red cheeks. And as she steers the car her knuckles are almost white.
She was shaken deeply when she got the news. When she heard that dad wasn’t coming home. We all were. And we all took it out in our own way.
My older brother Jake, who once was loud and funny. He was athletic and had no cares in the world. Popular and fun always had the most friends in school. But now as he sits here in the car, he is quiet. Too quiet. When he got the news he pored all the responsibility and weight of being the oldest male in the house hold. I can tell he’s holding in his fear and regret.
While my younger brother Luca is the exact opposite, lost in his confusion. He always tried to act older then he was. He always tried to act different then he was, but never to us. His family. But now he pretending to be okay, trying to act like nothing’s happened.
And the youngest in our family my little brother Oliver, twin of Luca, has taken his grief to a whole other level. He used to be the most responsible person in our family. He loved school and was a straight A student. He was one of the best students in 6th grade. But when he found out he became very angry and lashed out. Failing his classes, getting in trouble, it was never like him. He was lashing out, like never before. When mom told him to pack all his things and to get going, he was lashing out in protest. Now he sits here in the car arms crossed across his chest, eyes a blaze.
And theirs me. The second to oldest child in our family. I would like to say I’m handling dad’s death well, compared to the others trapped in this car. I was never close to my dad. He never understood why I didn’t like sports, or getting dirty. He never understood why I loved watching romantic dramas with mom late at night before bed. He never got why I’m a boy who acts something like a girl. But he still tried his best to understand. We were never very close, but he could still make me laugh.
I sighed, even though we were never close I never expected to loose him. I squeezed my eyes shut blocking out the emotions.
“Are we there yet?” I asked solemnly.
“Were close,” she coughed out in response. “This is where I wanted you boys to grow up, in the state I grew up in, a nice town with lots of culture. It would have been perfect.”
“Why didn’t we then?” I asked confused. Dad was always deported, rarely home what would it matter?
“Oh well back home there’s a military station close by so he could visit us more often,” she pressed her lips into a thin line. “But that doesn’t matter now. Anyway we need to get away, in a new place with no memories. And where we don’t know anyone.”
Back home when mom got the news the first time she left her house to go get more food every one was staring at her with sad looks. They knew.
I pressed my face against the window again, riding in the silent car waiting to see our new home.
When we first pulled up to it I wanted to scream. Not out of joy. It was very small, and bright yellow it could outshine the sun. Smashed between other bright colored skinny houses, I imagined the walls to be rather thin. I stood out of the car mouth gaping open.
Our old house was much bigger and white. It belonged in a big neighborhood with big back yards. This house had only a front porch.
“It’s bigger then it looks,” mom said sighing.
I turned to her. “It better be! How is all of our stuff going to fit in there?”
“Speaking of,” Luca started. “Where is the moving van?”
I spun around, eyes searching for the big white truck to pull into the street. We waited for a few minutes as mom got her luggage from the top of the car. “Why are you all standing there get your stuff,” she said.
“Mom,” I started. “Where is the moving van?”
“Oh it’s late, it’s going to come in a few days,” she said calmly.
“What!” Luca and I said in unison.
“You will survive. Also you have you most important thing on top of the car.”
I turned to Jake, but he had already gotten his things. I stood there silent with his back pack on. Did he even hear mom?
I turned to look at Oliver, he still sat inside the car and refused to come out. I turned back to the house, the bright yellow house I was supposed to live in. I gulped.
“Your a sight for sore eyes,” I heard a voice say. I turned to look at her. She was sitting on the front porch of the house to the right of ours. Bright blue, with purple trim. I wouldn’t want her house either.
She got up from her porch swing and started down the stairs. Her hair was straight as an arrow, brown, chin length to frame her face. She has bright green eyes, and a familiar face. I squinted at her.
“Do I know you?” I asked. She cocked her head, eyes scanning me. Then it hit me, “Jessie! Jessie from the 5th grade! I’m-”
“Andrew!” She cut me off. She ran to me and stopped right in front of me. “You haven’t changed a bit!”
“Either have you, well except your hair. I like it, it suits you.”
“Oh thanks, I’ve had it like this since the 6th grade.”
“What are you doing here?” We said in unison.
“You go first,” I said.
“Thanks. Well my dad, he works in the relaters department always moving around trying to find old homes to fix up. When we move back to your old home we thought we would stay there forever. But he found this place, fixed up every house on the block! We’ve been here ever since,” she finished.
“So he picked out this amazing color palate?”
“Yes, sadly. So what are you doing here?”
“Oh well…” I looked around at my family. “It’s kind of a long story. One that, not every one is settled with yet.”
“Oh, something bad. We’ll talk about that later then.”
“Well what are the odds. Us being neighbors?”
“Yeah, I got lucky. The last ones banged pots and pans to wake up, that woke us up.”
I winced. “So the walls are thin?”
“As thin as ever!” She said smiling her toothy grin. “Here let me help you with you stuff.”
“I wish there was more stuff you would help with.”
“Yeah, where is your moving van?”
“It’s late!”
We continued to talk, being old friends united. She helped me carry my stuff up to the room I claimed.
“There are only 4 rooms up here!” I said exasperated.
“Up same in my place.”
“The twins will have to share, the biggest one then,” I said placing my stuff on the floor. The yellow house was like a shell, only doors and walls. No wall paper or color in the inside at all. Just like a hollow shell.
“So.” She said closing the door and sitting on the hard wood floor. She patted the seat in front of her. I sat there facing her. “Are you still, you know…”
She looked around then looked back at me raising her eye brows.
“You know what?” I asked confused on what she was asking.
She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Gay?”
“Oh. That’s what you meant. You could have just said that.”
“I didn’t know if you were out yet. You know with your family.”
“Oh, well I’m not yet. I think my mom knows, but she hasn’t said anything.”
“Got it. So I take it you still are then?”
“100%, never changed, never will.”
“Oh. Your lucky.”
“Why?”
“Well you know exactly what you are and who you like. I’m still confused.”
“Eh, give yourself time. Some people know others don’t.”
“Thanks,” she said smiling. “So, why did you move to Charlestown? You used to live in South Carolina right? That’s a long way.”
“Well my mom was raised here. And she wanted to be filled with other memories I think.”
“Why?”
“Well you know my dad was an army air man right?”
“Yes.” she gasped. “Oh no!”
I nodded sadly. “There was an accident, he didn’t make it.”
She leaned in a touched my arm. “I’m so sorry. I thought your parents broke up.”
I laughed sadly. “Yeah, I only wish it was that.”
We sat on the floor in silence.
“Were you close?”
“Not really.”
Back to silence.
“How was the service?”
“What service?”
“You know what military officers get when they die while serving.”
“What?”
“You know like a funeral but when military officers give a speech about him and other people that were with him?”
“What? We didn’t have that? We never went to a formal speech thing.”
“Well I know its true because my mom’s mother died in service and she got a speech along with her comrades. Her life boat sank in the water.”
“Oh, well we didn’t get that. Why didn’t we?”
Jessie and I stood in unison, our eyes locked. I knew we were thinking the same thing.
I opened up the door, and we went down stars. I saw mom leaning on the kitchen island, scrolling through something on her phone.
“Hey mom,” I said. “I was just wondering why didn’t we get a service for dad? You know the fancy kind where they give a speech about their death and how they served?”
She looked up from her phone. “How do you know he even was meant to have a speech?” She asked.
“Well, excuse me Mrs. Hue, but my grandmother died before I was born. But you see she was in the military and her test life boat sank and they couldn’t find her in time. My point is she died in service along with her crew, so she got a speech about her unfortunate passing. So when Andrew brought this up I realized your husband should have gotten one too.” Jessie said.
“And why Andrew did you tell this girl, sorry hon I don’t know you name-”
“Its Jessie,” she cut off.
“Alright Jessie about you fathers,” she coughed, trying not to cry in front of us. “Your fathers departure?”
“This is Jessie mom. She was my best friend since the 3rd grade. She left in 5th grade because her dad was fixing up these houses.” I said.
“These houses?” she responded. “Like the Jessie that took you fishing once and you fell in because the fishes tail slapped you in the face?”
“Yup.” I said giggling along with Jessie.
“Oh, I’m sorry hon I didn’t recognize you with your short hair. I like it, it really frames your face,” she said with a half smile.
Jessie smiled back. “Thank you!”
“Mom, dad’s ceremony?” I said.
“Oh, right yes, yes,” she said. “Okay, I’m sure its just a misunderstanding. Maybe it takes months to plan these things. I will call the station where he worked. It’s a shame I can’t call the man who… well you know what.” Mom gulped as she opened up the phone app.
We waited as she dialed his number and watched as the phone rang. “Thanks,” I whispered into Jessie’s ear.
“No problem. You want to go to that ceremony, I just hoped you didn’t miss it,” she whispered back.
We heard the phone pick up. The person on the other line’s voice was too muffled so we couldn’t hear.
“Hi, yes. My husband recently departed in service and we were not informed about a ceremony,” she nodded listing to the voice on the other line. “A-ha. His name is Jame Hue, he was a First Sergeant.” She waited listening again. “He died in a military air test-” she chocked on her words. “the air craft exploded.”
She took a moment to compose herself the listened. She waited some more then finally said, “She’s checking her reports. She put me on hold,” she said to us. “I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”
The phone beeped and the woman started talking. “What no, that can’t be right,” my mom waited some more. “Okay then, if your absolutely sure. Alright, thank you for your time.”
Mom turned around face ghastly white. “What?” I asked worried.
“What’s wrong?” Jake said for the first time in forever, walking in.
“Your dad was said to go missing. Not a plane accident. She said only he went missing, and the plane he was supposed to be in made it back safely. He’s not in the records of dead nor alive,” she leaned in on the counter. “What if your fathers alive?”
“Or worse,” Jake said, looking around at us. “What is he’s captured?”
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1 comment
I related to this story especially the part where you recollect how there would be normally fighting between siblings. I am from a large family and it was like this on our road trips. I thought your descriptions of how each child reacted were very good and I loved the ending. Will keep me guessing. You will have to follow up with another story! The only critisism I have is that there are spelling and grammatical mistakes in the story. Maybe you might have to get someone to edit your stories because I think you have a story telling gift.
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