The Letter (2) The house was alive with feelings of overwhelming warmth, providing shelter from the harsh winter storm outside. Music flowed through the rooms and hallways and the smells of turkey and mashed potatoes, and other Christmas delicacies made themselves known to everyone. I lingered amongst my younger brothers, sisters, and friends, talking and trying to ignore the news in the background. The TV went on and on about the war recently erupting across the southeast region of the United States-beginning with riots but now showing scenes of a rebel army assembled in the southern states, working along with a militia that had grown beyond the United States Army�s ability to control it. It was a mess that had been worrying me for years. I tried to focus on Marie, talking with her and her family. She�d kept close to me most of the night and I made it a point to keep close to her, too happy in her company to want anything else. Perhaps I had forgotten recently how lucky I was. In the midst of all this political turmoil it was easy to lose sight of what was important. I sighed as thoughts I�d buried deep in my mind began to resurface and attack the smile I�d worn on my face for most of the night. Thoughts of a certain letter� I was scared. "What�s wrong?" asked Marie, soon noticing. I shook my head, pulling myself back to the present. The reality was I had nothing to worry about at this moment other than having a good time and enjoying the company of my family-and of course the wonderful woman sitting next to me, looking all of a sudden so concerned. "Nothing, I just zoned out for a minute." I forced a laugh, trying to play it off as a joke. It worked�I think. As the conversation continued and I made several more raids on the meat and vegetable trays with Marie, my mom strolled through the room, making a joke or two about when the two of us would finally get married. I blushed, realizing she was right. We�d been together four years and the thought of marriage had crossed my mind. But things weren�t so simple anymore, I realized, remembering the letter. I looked around at everyone smiling and laughing in this refuge from the storm outside. I could hardly imagine it was still going on-still getting worse. But this storm was so much worse than anything in the past. They�d have to face it eventually. We all would. "Jon�" Marie looked at me curiously. "What�s the matter?" I sighed. I couldn�t avoid this forever. I would have to tell even Marie sooner or later. But why�why couldn�t I just run away. Why did this have to happen now when life was so perfect? I laughed. Oh, how I appreciated it now that I could see the end of it. I cracked the knuckles on my clammy hands. "I�ll talk to you about it later." The night progressed well with most of the guests leaving at around eleven and some lingering until later, at which time Marie and I retreated upstairs to the smell of cinnamon candles and pine from the dimly lit room with a small Christmas tree in one corner. We sat on the couch, both tired, and turned on the plasma screen TV on the wall in front of us, now gazing suddenly into the scene at Raleigh, where "�twenty-three American soldiers were killed and an additional thirty were wounded in a firefight that broke out in Raleigh, now under martial law. The rebel army has not been sighted anywhere near Raleigh, however, all the resistance has been from the local militia, supplied by the rebel army. President Clinton has announced today that anyone in concordance with the rebel forces will be considered to have committed an act of treason and will be shot on site�" It went on to show scenes of protesters in the streets and U.S. soldiers in body armor shooting into the crowd. It showed more scenes of destruction in the suburbs-homes covered with bullet holes�fires raging in once peaceful neighborhoods. My heart sank at the sight as the window to the real world sucked me back into thoughts of the letter: reality. "We don�t have to watch this," I said and I got up and put in a movie. I pretended the life I was living was still real and I savored every moment of it until I knew I would have to wake up to the truth. It would come all too soon. I leaned back in the chair and fell asleep beside her, knowing it would be one of the last times I could. I woke up at two and drove Marie home, allowing the sleepy silence although I was wide-awake. I dropped her off saying little more than "good night" and "I love you"; I left her doorstep with my hands in my pockets and continued through the intense storm to my car and felt it weighing heavier and heavier on my heart the whole way. The storm seemed to have melted around us along with all my troubles when we�d held each other on that doorstep. But now I opened the car door and held my head up against the sideways blowing snow, burning my face, and I took a look at her house and whispered to myself, "Things will never be the same�" It felt like the tears froze onto my cheeks before I could rip myself away from the sight and back into my car to drive back home. I went to my room after a short drive home. The door to the dark room creaked open and I was met with a chilling breeze. I had left the windows open. Upon flipping the lights on, I saw the letter on my desk, reflecting light brilliantly into my eyes. I picked up the envelope and held it in my sweaty palms, which seemed to become frozen shortly after as if by the letter�s chilling touch. For most of the night I held it in my hands and sat on my bed, awake, reflecting. I reflected on everything I could think of. I looked through some pictures. I looked around my old room, at all the junk I�d accumulated over the years. Books from high school. Books from college. A college education that would go unfinished after having only completed one semester. Everything I�d worked for and every dream I�d ever had�shattered by the softness of words on paper in a crispy white envelope. I sighed. At some point I would have to stop caring about my dreams and what I wanted. I was playing a part in something greater than just me. I never did sleep that night, the first of many sleepless nights. My mind refused to rest. At nine in the morning I went downstairs and opened the letter in front of my mom, expecting the first line to read: We regret to inform you� However, it read, We are pleased to inform you that you have been called into military service under the selective service act for the United States Army. I read it out loud, shocking my poor mother. She stole the letter from my cold hands and read over it again and again, pacing as she went and beginning to shake. I stood back, cool and composed as the word spread through the house, from parents to parents and siblings to cousins, all of whom asked me with concern, "did you get drafted, Jon?" I was never sure really what to say so I merely nodded my head and watched them walk away, equally unsure of what to say back. I called Marie and told her. "What? You got drafted?" her voice carried tones of dread. I nodded my head, angry now that this paper had shattered her dreams as well as mine. I could hear the pain in her voice. "Why didn�t you tell me last night, Jon?" I bit my lip and sat down on the couch behind me, sinking deep into its comforting softness. I knew that the previous night was going to be our last innocent night together-not yet touched by the black hand of this new war. "I couldn�t," I managed to stammer. "Oh, Jon�" I could hear the tears in her voice. "Could you tell Julie that I�m sorry I�m not going to be able to make it to her party next week?" Her voice was shaky. "When are you reporting?" "Day after Christmas," I breathed. "Oh, God� I�m coming over now. I�ll be there in ten minutes." She hung up the phone without saying goodbye. I leaned my head back into the embracing cushion of the couch and closed my eyes. Two days and I�d be on an Army Post training. Six months� I could be in Raleigh. The reporter�s words came into my head like a ghost, speaking for the dead� twenty-three American soldiers were killed and an additional thirty were wounded� This won�t be any picnic of a war. The next two days, Marie virtually lived at my house and with my family. I lived amongst them as best I could. Sometimes it almost felt almost normal. But it never really did-most of the time it wasn�t even close. I almost wished that the night before I had opened my letter was my last and that I could just go then instead of enduring the pain I saw in every face that looked upon me for those two days. I even saw it in all of my friends who came to see me go the morning of the twenty-sixth. And most of all, I saw it in Marie. Pain like nothing neither her nor I had felt before� I wished farewell to everyone once we had all made the trip to the Army Post about an hour away from my house, my two brothers, my parents, my three sisters, a handful of friends that had come with sad expressions to see me off. And then I embraced Marie in my arms, holding her tightly as though I would never be able to again if I let her go. "I�ll come back," I whispered into her ear, holding her just as so many other young men did in front of that dark green army plane, doors wide open like a hungry mouth. So many people in tears�so many families torn apart. The engines turned on, blowing wind in every direction-through Marie�s long flowing brown hair and around her loose short dress. I took her small face in my hands and wiped the streams of tears from beneath her green eyes, whispering to her softly over the roar of the engines, "I love you, and I�m coming back." "No, don�t go� We can run away. You don�t have to�" "I love you," I said one more time and I peeled her arms off my shoulders as she fought to hang on with all her might, feeling the same sense I had-if she let go she might never be able to regain her hold. "No!" some friends of mine held her back as I turned and walked up the latter, only turning around again to offer a smile when she yelled back, "I love you too!" The smile vanished from my face as I turned my back on my friends, my family, my home, the entire world as I had known it before and walked into the darkness inside the hungry jaws of war-my life had changed forever.
Copyright © 2005 Michael Shine |