A/N: I realize that this is cheesy, but, I don't know. I just felt the inspiration to write this, so, I did. Deal. :)
***
September 5, 1960
***
I gave myself one more look in the mirror before going downstairs for breakfast, making sure my brown, cropped hair was in place, and my father's dog tags that I wore ever so proudly were showing on my orange sundress. Satisfied, I nodded quickly to myself and ran down the wooden stairs and into the kitchen. My mother was at the stove, placing the contents of eggs and bacon onto 4 plates. I smiled. Evelyn McCawley could take on the world, yet still find time to do the simple things. I learned this from watching her. I'd watched her for the past 14 years, and I didn't plan on stopping. I hoped that one day I could be like her. Although, I would rather be like my father. My father was everything to me, and more. I admired him so much. I remember when I was little, while my mother and brother slept, he would light the fireplace and sit me on his lap, and tell me stories of how he fought in World War II. He was such a hero. I shook my head free of my thoughts, and looked around to notice that no one was in the kitchen but my mother. I then remembered that I had a question to ask her. "Mama?" She turned around and smiled at me. For 40 years old, she was beautiful. I hoped I still looked 30 when I was 40. "Good morning, honey." She turned her attention back to our breakfast. "Good morning. I was wondering if I could maybe have some friends over tonight?" "Who?" She asked, nonchalantley. I thought for a minute. I was supposed to ask her a week ago, but it slipped my mind, and now I had forgotten who I was going to have over. "Tina, Brenda, and Amelia." She didn't even pause. "If it's ok with your father and brother." I walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then laughed. "Why would it have to be ok with Danny?" She shrugged and placed the plates on the table. "Maybe he wanted someone over? I don't know. Just go in the living room and fetch your father. Tell him breakfast is ready." I nodded. My father wouldn't care. He pretty much let me do what I wanted, but I didn't know why. And I didn't really care if my brother cared or not. While he was the only brother I would ever have, and I loved him, sometimes he just got on my nerves. I straightened my dress out while I slowly approached my father. He was sitting in his chair, his light brown hair graying slightly, and his reading glasses pushed tightly on his face as he read the newspaper. "Daddy?" I asked. He looked up at me. "Yes, Rebecca?" "First off, mama told me to tell you that breakfast is ready, and secondly, would it be alright if I had some friends over tonight?" He nodded. "Ofcourse. You know I don't mind," I smiled. "Let's go eat." I nodded and laughed as he stood up and tickled my neck. He laughed with me, and we walked into the kitchen. My mother had just seated herself. "It's a wonder it's not cold. Will someone call Danny, please?" I nodded and braced my throat for some yelling. My brother was deaf. Well, either that, or he just liked to make me mad by ignoring me. "FLY BOY!!! COME DOWN FOR BREAKFAST!" I saw my mother wince a little at the nickname I had ever so devilishly given my older brother, but I just shrugged it off. She winced at the littlest things. I then heard them. The footsteps of my brother. Stupidity in human form. Well, he was stupid to me anyway. He would always purposely try to aggrivate me, and I just didn't see a purpose. Hmm, oh well. His tall frame walked into the kitchen, and I looked at his uncombed brown hair. I almost spat out my milk from laughing, and looking at the green aviator sunglasses he was wearing made me laugh even harder. He did this every day, but I wouldn't understand until later, and so it was always funny to me. My father stiffened, and my mother spoke calmly-but-firmly. "Daniel, if you will please take those sunglasses off, I would find my breakfast to be much more enjoyable." He shrugged and removed the sunglasses, only to reveal the brown eyes my mother hated so much for some reason. She lifted her head. "Thank," Her eyes welled up with tears. "You." She then her tears fall, one by one. Danny just rolled his eyes. "Shit, I did it again." I looked confused. "Did what?" He just shook his head and ran up stairs, leaving me to watch my father try and console my mother. "Rebecca, can you please go upstairs?" I pleaded. "But daddy, I'm not through eating." His voice became stern. "PLEASE, go upSTAIRS." I took my que and nodded, leaving my eggs and bacon at the table.
My mind raced as I walked up the stairs to Danny's room. This had happened every other day since I had been alive, so I was used to it. But I didn't understand why. Why would my mother just start bawling when she looked at my brother? Why did my brother have the last name Walker, instead of McCawley like the rest of us? Why did my brother look nothing like my father, only like a man I once saw in a picture in my father's office. And why was that picture hidden in the office that we were forbidden to go in to? Why would my brother wear those sunglasses every day? Why, when we go to the field for a family memorial service on December 7th, would he wear a battered, yellow hula shirt instead of black like the rest of us? And I would give money to have my next question answered. Who was buried in my back yard? Who was Daniel Walker, the man who shared my brothers name, and who had lived a short life from 1918-1942?
I knocked on the wooden door, and got no answer. I rolled my eyes and walked in anyway. Danny was laying on the bed in the dark, with a candle lit, and the sunglasses on. "Danny, let's go. We'll miss the school bus," He didn't acknowledge me. "Danny! Take those stupid things off!" I didn't give him a chance to respond, only grabbed the sunglasses myself. I barely got them off of his face before I felt his strong arm grab my hand so hard, it would later bruise. "Ow! Danny, you're hurting me!" He took the glasses off hastily and glared at me. "Don't you EVER touch those again! Do you hear me?" I nodded slowly, tears slowly forming. I then saw a sudden look of remorse come into his dark brown eyes, and he let go of my hand. "Oh my God. I'm sorry, Becky. I didn't mean to." I backed away, slowly. "It's ok, Danny. You never mean to do anything." He looked confused and stood up. "What's that supposed to mean?" "You never mean to hurt me when I touch something of yours, you never mean to make mama cry, you never mean to make daddy cry, you also never mean to wake anyone up when you sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to go to the barn." He looked down in sorrow. "Becky, come here." I contemplated. Was I still mad at him? I decided I had nothing to lose, so I did walk over to him. He grabbed me and pulled me into the biggest hug he had ever given me. "You're 14 years old. I know you're confused, and I'm sorry. You'll understand someday." "Understand what?" He sighed and pulled away, looking me in the eye. "Why you live in a household that does nothing but cry and mourn."
I stepped off of the bus slowly, instantly seeing my 3 best friends beside the door, complete with overnight bags. I'm glad my parents agreed. "Becky McCawley!" I walked over to them, and gave them the best smile I could. With a morning like mine, considering it had been worse than usual, the smile wasn't much. "Hey, girls." "Are we still on for tonight?" Tina asked, her blonde hair blowing in the Tennessee wind. I nodded slowly. "Yeah, we are." Amelia giggled, tossing her red hair behind her back. "Good. I get to sleep under the same roof as Danny Walker! Ah!" The other girls laughed, while I shook my head. "So rude. Is that the only reason you're coming over? To woo and spy on my brother?" Amelia gave me a look of repulse. "Why would you even think that? You know you're my best friend, Becky. I just like to pick on you for having a brother that was voted best looking in the year book last year." I laughed a little. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad day.
***
September 5, 1960
***
I gave myself one more look in the mirror before going downstairs for breakfast, making sure my brown, cropped hair was in place, and my father's dog tags that I wore ever so proudly were showing on my orange sundress. Satisfied, I nodded quickly to myself and ran down the wooden stairs and into the kitchen. My mother was at the stove, placing the contents of eggs and bacon onto 4 plates. I smiled. Evelyn McCawley could take on the world, yet still find time to do the simple things. I learned this from watching her. I'd watched her for the past 14 years, and I didn't plan on stopping. I hoped that one day I could be like her. Although, I would rather be like my father. My father was everything to me, and more. I admired him so much. I remember when I was little, while my mother and brother slept, he would light the fireplace and sit me on his lap, and tell me stories of how he fought in World War II. He was such a hero. I shook my head free of my thoughts, and looked around to notice that no one was in the kitchen but my mother. I then remembered that I had a question to ask her. "Mama?" She turned around and smiled at me. For 40 years old, she was beautiful. I hoped I still looked 30 when I was 40. "Good morning, honey." She turned her attention back to our breakfast. "Good morning. I was wondering if I could maybe have some friends over tonight?" "Who?" She asked, nonchalantley. I thought for a minute. I was supposed to ask her a week ago, but it slipped my mind, and now I had forgotten who I was going to have over. "Tina, Brenda, and Amelia." She didn't even pause. "If it's ok with your father and brother." I walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then laughed. "Why would it have to be ok with Danny?" She shrugged and placed the plates on the table. "Maybe he wanted someone over? I don't know. Just go in the living room and fetch your father. Tell him breakfast is ready." I nodded. My father wouldn't care. He pretty much let me do what I wanted, but I didn't know why. And I didn't really care if my brother cared or not. While he was the only brother I would ever have, and I loved him, sometimes he just got on my nerves. I straightened my dress out while I slowly approached my father. He was sitting in his chair, his light brown hair graying slightly, and his reading glasses pushed tightly on his face as he read the newspaper. "Daddy?" I asked. He looked up at me. "Yes, Rebecca?" "First off, mama told me to tell you that breakfast is ready, and secondly, would it be alright if I had some friends over tonight?" He nodded. "Ofcourse. You know I don't mind," I smiled. "Let's go eat." I nodded and laughed as he stood up and tickled my neck. He laughed with me, and we walked into the kitchen. My mother had just seated herself. "It's a wonder it's not cold. Will someone call Danny, please?" I nodded and braced my throat for some yelling. My brother was deaf. Well, either that, or he just liked to make me mad by ignoring me. "FLY BOY!!! COME DOWN FOR BREAKFAST!" I saw my mother wince a little at the nickname I had ever so devilishly given my older brother, but I just shrugged it off. She winced at the littlest things. I then heard them. The footsteps of my brother. Stupidity in human form. Well, he was stupid to me anyway. He would always purposely try to aggrivate me, and I just didn't see a purpose. Hmm, oh well. His tall frame walked into the kitchen, and I looked at his uncombed brown hair. I almost spat out my milk from laughing, and looking at the green aviator sunglasses he was wearing made me laugh even harder. He did this every day, but I wouldn't understand until later, and so it was always funny to me. My father stiffened, and my mother spoke calmly-but-firmly. "Daniel, if you will please take those sunglasses off, I would find my breakfast to be much more enjoyable." He shrugged and removed the sunglasses, only to reveal the brown eyes my mother hated so much for some reason. She lifted her head. "Thank," Her eyes welled up with tears. "You." She then her tears fall, one by one. Danny just rolled his eyes. "Shit, I did it again." I looked confused. "Did what?" He just shook his head and ran up stairs, leaving me to watch my father try and console my mother. "Rebecca, can you please go upstairs?" I pleaded. "But daddy, I'm not through eating." His voice became stern. "PLEASE, go upSTAIRS." I took my que and nodded, leaving my eggs and bacon at the table.
My mind raced as I walked up the stairs to Danny's room. This had happened every other day since I had been alive, so I was used to it. But I didn't understand why. Why would my mother just start bawling when she looked at my brother? Why did my brother have the last name Walker, instead of McCawley like the rest of us? Why did my brother look nothing like my father, only like a man I once saw in a picture in my father's office. And why was that picture hidden in the office that we were forbidden to go in to? Why would my brother wear those sunglasses every day? Why, when we go to the field for a family memorial service on December 7th, would he wear a battered, yellow hula shirt instead of black like the rest of us? And I would give money to have my next question answered. Who was buried in my back yard? Who was Daniel Walker, the man who shared my brothers name, and who had lived a short life from 1918-1942?
I knocked on the wooden door, and got no answer. I rolled my eyes and walked in anyway. Danny was laying on the bed in the dark, with a candle lit, and the sunglasses on. "Danny, let's go. We'll miss the school bus," He didn't acknowledge me. "Danny! Take those stupid things off!" I didn't give him a chance to respond, only grabbed the sunglasses myself. I barely got them off of his face before I felt his strong arm grab my hand so hard, it would later bruise. "Ow! Danny, you're hurting me!" He took the glasses off hastily and glared at me. "Don't you EVER touch those again! Do you hear me?" I nodded slowly, tears slowly forming. I then saw a sudden look of remorse come into his dark brown eyes, and he let go of my hand. "Oh my God. I'm sorry, Becky. I didn't mean to." I backed away, slowly. "It's ok, Danny. You never mean to do anything." He looked confused and stood up. "What's that supposed to mean?" "You never mean to hurt me when I touch something of yours, you never mean to make mama cry, you never mean to make daddy cry, you also never mean to wake anyone up when you sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to go to the barn." He looked down in sorrow. "Becky, come here." I contemplated. Was I still mad at him? I decided I had nothing to lose, so I did walk over to him. He grabbed me and pulled me into the biggest hug he had ever given me. "You're 14 years old. I know you're confused, and I'm sorry. You'll understand someday." "Understand what?" He sighed and pulled away, looking me in the eye. "Why you live in a household that does nothing but cry and mourn."
I stepped off of the bus slowly, instantly seeing my 3 best friends beside the door, complete with overnight bags. I'm glad my parents agreed. "Becky McCawley!" I walked over to them, and gave them the best smile I could. With a morning like mine, considering it had been worse than usual, the smile wasn't much. "Hey, girls." "Are we still on for tonight?" Tina asked, her blonde hair blowing in the Tennessee wind. I nodded slowly. "Yeah, we are." Amelia giggled, tossing her red hair behind her back. "Good. I get to sleep under the same roof as Danny Walker! Ah!" The other girls laughed, while I shook my head. "So rude. Is that the only reason you're coming over? To woo and spy on my brother?" Amelia gave me a look of repulse. "Why would you even think that? You know you're my best friend, Becky. I just like to pick on you for having a brother that was voted best looking in the year book last year." I laughed a little. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad day.