The Lone Door

My son has grown up so much…

"Hurry Ma and take the picture!"

Jason never had much patience as he grew into the man that stands before me. As I started fumbling with our new camera I can see the slight agitation in my only sons deep green eyes because I cannot figure out these cameras like I could an old double lens. He is only twenty years old and youth is still strongly on his side. He takes after his father, who has been gone for ten years now, brown hair with skin as fare as a porcelain doll. He is taller than me by eight inches and leaner than I from working in our small farm as a teenager. Footsteps disturb the grass as Jason comes over to show me how simple it is to load the camera for its next shot. The small camera makes a small clicking sound to tell us it's loaded and Jason hands it back to me. He runs back to lean against the house and resume his very James Dean pose which boys his age think is very hip.

"Okay smile for me sweety." Jason smiles brilliantly with his white teeth and places his hands in his pockets as he has done for years when ever he takes a picture.

"One, Two, Three" , the camera makes a small click, " Perfect!"

A million thoughts are zooming through my head like an old film reel. I can't believe my little boy is leaving for two years. Forever framed in my mind as a child. When he was younger he was always running around the house like a wild animal. He could cover our house in a minute if he was playing an intense game of cops and robbers with our neighbor's youngest son Edward. They were practically twins except Edward had dark skin and was always a short little tike. If Jason was feeling extremely rowdy he would bolt out one of our front doors and after pretending to chase a bad guy would come running in through the other front door like a lighting strike. How he loved those front doors growing up. When he was five years old he asked why we had two front doors leading into our house. With him being so young I knew he wouldn't understand that our house was extended to make two apartments many years before the middle wall was torn down to create our two story house. I just smiled and told him one was for Santa just in case the chimney was too small for his enormous belly.

A soft touch on my arm interrupts my memory of days that have long since past.

" I need to run inside and get my bag Ma before Jack gets here."

A silent nod is all I can produce without having tears flow down my cheeks. Jason turns silently and jogs to get to our front door. He always did favor the one on the left for some reason or another.

It's funny what memories can do…

Making my way to the same door Jason just went through another memory overwhelms me. When he was ten I had made my way up our old rickety staircase to check on him. I knew he would be in his room, even though it was the second smallest room in the house it was his fort and safe haven. Looking through the slightly cracked door a smile couldn't but stretch across my face as I see a superhero running around his room with a towel for a cape and an old cooking pot of mine for a helmet. From what I could tell he had just flown in and saved a damsel from an unwelcomed run in with his invisible foe. He played like that most days, from the time he got up until the time he went to bed. Even as he got older he dreamed of being a hero in his own right. Although he had his day dreams he was as smart as they come. Everything the teachers threw at him he finished with a near perfect score every time. In high school he only got in trouble once for pulling a prank on Charles Sigmoore. Of course I had to get over to the school right away and was escorted by the secretary to the principles office where my son and Principle Anderson were waiting. The Principle was an older man who had a head of grey hair and a look of scorn in his oceanic blue eyes and a frown on his weathered face. Jason was sitting in a chair opposite of the principle and looked relieved when I arrived. From what the Principle told me Jason and another boy super glued Charles's hands to a toilet in the bathroom. I know I shouldn't have laughed but I did as soon as Jason and I left the high school…

Sitting at the bottom of the stairs I hear the unmistakable sound of Jack slamming on the breaks because he missed our driveway again. He has only been here twice so it's easy to forget our driveway is off a turn in the road.

"Jason, Jack is here." I yell and Jason comes back down with his big duffle bag and hat in hand. He set them down on our small floral love seat and makes his way outside to greet his friend.

Jack was no taller than five feet nine inches with a crop of red hair and freckles covering his nose. He was shy when we first met but now he is a little more comfortable being around us. The boys were chatting when they came back into the house about how the Reds will do this upcoming season. I asked if they wanted tea or cola as they headed into our living room and they both say yes to tea. I turned on the sink and put the tea pot under the running water until it was full and turned the water off. I lit the stove and placed the tea pot on it and I sat and waited for the water to boil.

Such a long wait…

Our kitchen has been the grounds for many meals but one sticks out like a rain cloud in my mind, it was the dinner of August 4, 1955. If it were any other occasion Jason would have looked adorable in his black suit but today we both wore the look of sorrow and pain. Henry's funeral, Jason's father, was as good a funeral as we could afford at the time. A simple casket with brown wood and a white lining on the inside which I felt suited him.. Only 40 close friends and family came to the funeral. It was a sunny day and he was buried in the local cemetery which had grown tremendously because of world war two. Henry was such a catch… we met in 1942 at our local fair by the merry-go round and it was love at first site. We never spent more then a day apart after that day. Our wedding was small because we couldn't afford much but it was nice all the same because all Henry and I needed was each other and our family. Two years later Jason was born, Henry was so happy as he held our baby boy in his arms for the first time and even then Jason was the spitting image of Henry. The only difference between the two is that Jason was three inches shorter and had no southern accent when he was older. They looked exactly alike as children it was wonderful to see them bond, father and son. After the funeral we came home and I started making some sandwiches as Jason sat down on the couch listening to the grandfather clock ticking back and forth. I called him in to eat and half way through his sandwich he just stopped and started to sob and then like a firecracker he exploded.

"THIS ISNT FAIR, WHY DID HE DIE!?!?!"

I went around the table to hold him while I started crying myself. I knew I couldn't sugar coat it for him this time. I held him tighter as I began to tell him about the longest story I would ever have to share.

"When your father was coming home the other night he ran across some very mean people…from what Sherriff Jensen told me he was walking down a side street in town coming home to us after grocery shopping. The Sherriff said there were four men always hanging around the other end of that street every night usually around that time for the past couple of months. That night just happened to be the unlucky night for your daddy." Jason looked up at me with wide water filled eyes with a look of horror on his face.

"Do you want me to stop honey?" He shook his head no. He has always been so brave for his age.

"Well you know your father he wouldn't just let them take his money and goods like that so he gave them a few good hits, I know he did…but sometimes people do things and feel no shame for the sins they have committed. They got the best of him Jason but they will get caught. Always remember who he was and never forget how happy you were playing baseball with him in the yard. We must honor his memory do you understand?"

Jason nodded and wiped away the last tear running down his cheek.

"Yes mommy, I understand."

From that moment on he was different, both of us were. Always slightly on our guard wherever we went but not even the kitchen felt the same after that night. The room was still as big, the sink and mirror above it in the same place by the door leading to the living room, as was the oven on the other side of the room along with our cabinets hanging on the walls as they always have for years. But a presence seemed to flicker and die out like a light. Even the house was aware my Henry was gone forever, that a part of me and Jason was never coming back, and it mourned with us.

The teapot starts to whistle, yelling at me come and pick it up. I whipped my eyes with my handkerchief and grab a hot pad to grab the handle. I load everything I need on a tray and carry it out to the living room to join the boys. The conversation had switched from baseball to what they might be doing for the next two years.

" I'm not sure but I hope there's a lot of action!"

"I hope there isn't that much action I don't want to have to do anything drastic while we are there and I don't want to get involved in anything stupid either."

Jack was always a little nervous when it came to things especially new things. It wasn't hard to figure that out about him because he always had a nervous look about him in some situations like meeting new girls or new people in general. I wonder how the next two years will treat him.

"Well something is bound to happen, Jack that's why we're going! You can't be scared your whole life, can ya?"

"Yes, yes I can."

With that we all laughed for what seemed like an eternity and then the Grandfather clocks' hammer struck telling us it was three o'clock. The three of us became quiet and listened to the pendulum swinging back and forth with a gentle click once it reached one side an then the other. Jason started rising from his seat and Jack followed suit.

"Well ma we have to get going so we can make our flight out this evening."

I knew this moment would come, I just wasn't ready for how soon it would be…

" Okay then I will walk you guys out to the car, don't for get your hat Jacob."

Jacob already had his hat in his hand and started to put it on his perfectly parted hair and my eyes couldn't help but start welling with a pain only a mother can feel when her child leaves home. His rank as a private was pressed on his arm and on his hat. He looks sharp in his uniform like a regular Clint Eastwood with Jacob as his side kick in some war movie. The scary thing is, he actually is going to war. Vietnam has not been good to our boys back in the states, so many have been drafted to go over and fight and it doesn't give a mother much hope when you can see the number of American casualties from that day in the top right hand corner while watching the news.

I remember when he got his letter from the war department, it was such a simple letter but it carried so much weight within the tiny print:

Jason Andrews,

We are writing to inform you that you have been drafted into the Marines and will need to report to the war department on March 7th at 0800 hours.

When Jason read the letter he had eyes as big as the moon and was paler than a ghost. He saw the worry on my face as he looked up to see me standing in front of him and silently handed me the letter in his hand. I had realized that this day might come but I hoped beyond comprehension that it wouldn't happen, but yet you can never help what life gives you only take it in stride.

Standing by the small green jeep I give Jacob a hug and tell him to be careful and as I pulled away I told him to keep my son safe form whatever he could. He took a deep breath in and I could see the fear that was in his eyes that he was keeping bottled up.

"I will I promise Mrs. Andrews."

With that I hugged him one last time and he got into the drivers seat. I turned to face Jason too see him already staring down at me with his hands coming out of his pockets to give me a giant hug. It seemed like an eternity had passed when we hugged but yet it felt as if it were only a fraction of a second.

" I love you Jason, I am so proud of you.."

" I love you too mom, will you be ok while I'm gone to Vietnam?"

"Of course I will be, the neighbors aren't that far away if I need them, but it's going to be hard with you not here to cause havoc."

He gave a feeble laugh attempting to cover his true emotions of sadness and fear.

" I know mom but I will come back soon and the time will fly with how busy you keep yourself these days. But I have to go now.."

Jason gave me on last squeeze and then climbed into the passenger seat and told me he loved me once again. I told him I love him and the engine sprung to life with the turn of the key. They pulled out and turned to go down the road, as I waved to them until they were out of site I realized that something was going to happen, and that a part of me was never going to be quite the same after Jason left.

There goes my life....

I have always strongly disliked the fall time. The whether becomes increasingly grey just as the rain becomes colder and harsher and the leaves die after turning brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow. The wind had just blown my newly completed pile of leaves back across the yard as if the breeze knows I need something to constantly occupy my time. Jason has already been gone for three months and it feels like it has been a lifetime. Every couple of weeks I get a new letter but the last one has been on my mind since I received it four days ago. I thought it would be like any other letter but it wasn't. As I gaze at the pile of leaves the memory comes back to me like a flood…

Bernard, the local mail man, had gotten to know my face very well over the past couple of months. I was standing by my mail box at two o'clock waiting on him to stop in front of my house. He was a weathered looking man, tanned from being in the sun so often during the summer with white in his auburn hair.. The instant he saw me it seemed like he knew that I was a mother waiting on a letter that I might not receive. As he was gathering the mail together on that first day he looked at me sideways as if ready to say something, and he did.

" I'm sure my mom had the same look on her face every time she waited by the mail box when I was off in France."

" Oh? You were in the war?"

" Yes ma'am, served for three years starting at the age of eighteen, I saw some pretty scary things while I was there…it will cause a man to go grey early."

" I am sure it would.." I had no idea how to finish my thoughts because I would never know how gruesome wars would be first hand. He gave an awkward coughing noise because he didn't know what to say either, I guess he figured I was already scared out of my mind and war stories wouldn't comfort me at the moment.

"Well here ya go ma'am it looks like you got your first letter. Have a good day."

I gave him a nod and told him to have a good day as well …

"It looks like I'm interrupting your daydream Sophie."

I looked up to see Bernard smiling at me from inside his car and I blushed as I smiled back at him. We have gotten close over the last couple of months, closer than I would have expected but it seems the more we talk the more we have in common with each other. I was actually thinking of another man, excited to see him for more than one reason. Feelings had emerged that I thought had disappeared years ago.

"Someone got a letter in the mail today from a certain son of theirs!"

He hands me the mail and honks as he leaves and I can't help but yell goodbye to him as he leaves. I start looking through my mail and see some ads for the local store down the road and a letter from my family, but that can wait. I found Jason's letter stuck in the center of the tiny pile and rush into the house so I can read it in my chair, a funny habit that formed when I started receiving mail from Jason. I sat and studied the outside for a few seconds. It was wrinkled like it had been in rough hands and rough conditions but none the less intact. I ripped it open to see that familiar handwriting but something else was present on the paper. It looked like splashes of water had stained the paper. How odd I thought, but yet I started reading:

Mama,

I hope everything is alright there and that you are doing ok by yourself in that big ol' house of ours. The fall was never your favorite season but try not to get to down over the leaves on the ground. Jack is doing the best he can they are working him hard just like the rest of us here. It has been raining like cats and dogs here for about a week now. It makes everything hard to work with but its especially hard on our feet because it gets them soaked to the bone and we cant take off our shoes to change our socks incase of a air raid and we have to move out quickly. A lot of good men have died already mama, some of them were buddies of mine and it's strange to think I can't talk to them anymore..

Something happened the other day and I can't shake it off for the life of me. There was a local woman that was walking towards our base with a basket hanging from her arm and we have tried to warn all the locals not to come within a certain distance of our base without permission. Well, we told her to stop and she wouldn't head our warnings that if she didn't stop she would be killed. We had our guns pointed at her but no one had the nerve to shoot when our commanding officer told us too. He knew I was a good shot so he ordered me too fire and I did. When she hit the ground mama she went in a million different places because of the bomb that was in her basket. The sight of it was gruesome but the smell, it couldn't leave my nostrils. It's still there and I don't think it will go away anytime soon. I have to go now it's my shift to be on patrol but I will write you soon mama I promise.

Love,

Jason

My own tears splattered the paper as I read his lines of trouble and remorse. My baby boy shot another human. Did I blame him? No, I didn't. He did it because surely many others would have been wounded or died from the bomb that woman had carried with her. I got up to stand in front of the window and looked at the work thinking I needed to rake the leaves soon but I couldn't bring myself to do it at the present time. At that moment I swung myself around and marched up the steps into the master bedroom. It was quiet as always in this room. The sun shone briefly in the room before a cloud obscured it from sight. I crumpled into the bed and wept for my son.

I could only hope the next letter would carry better news than the previous one..