Memorial Day
I know that in "Iron Ships and Dead Men" it is implied that Oscar's parents are dead, as he was identified as next of kin. However, for the purposes of this story, I am assuming that he was just the first one they could reach, and that his mother is still alive. I was inspired by a story I read from the Lurker, as well as Messyhead's and Oscarfan's ideas for a holiday specific story.
1. The Telegram
"Callahan, I asked not to be disturbed," he bellowed. Oscar Goldman had just come back from a grueling four hour meeting with the Secretary, filled with a litany of bureaucratic paperwork and red tape. He took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. They were sore, but not as sore as his throat - he and the Secretary did not see eye-to-eye today. He just wanted to forget about all of it. He poured himself a glass of scotch, listening to the ice cubes crackle as the warmth of the liquid gently broke them apart.
"But Oscar, you have a telegram – from the Department of the Navy. It's marked urgent. Should I bring it in?" Callahan hated when her boss was in one of his moods - she always felt like she was walking on eggshells. He was constantly getting something marked "Urgent" or "Top Secret". It was hard to tell what was important to him and what wasn't.
What now? It seemed as if he could never get a minute's rest. "Go ahead and bring it in." He wasn't expecting anything from the Navy, and wondered what could be so important. Callahan meekly brought in the telegram and laid it on his desk next to the pile of papers he had brought back from his meeting.
"If you don't need me for anything Oscar, I was going to leave for the day. Do you want me to lock up?" She had a date with her new boyfriend Ted, and was anxious to get going. Hopefully Oscar didn't plan on working all night. She worried about the hours he spent alone in his office. It wasn't healthy.
He looked up and smiled at her distractedly as he picked up his telegram. "No, go ahead. I've just got a few more things to do here and I'm done. Don't bother locking up. Have a good night." He leaned back in his chair, trying to relax from the stress of an already long day. As he opened the telegram, he couldn't believe what he was reading. His brother Sam was to be posthumously awarded the Navy Cross for his service at Pearl Harbor. Apparently, the investigation that was opened when his body was found revealed that not only did Sam not steal the money, but he managed to save at least a half a dozen men before he succumbed to his injuries. A large pile of debris had trapped them on the deck of the ship, and Sam, already suffering from a bullet wound, had helped them get free of the rubble and to safety while exposing himself to Japanese gunfire. There would be an award ceremony on Memorial Day at Pearl Harbor, and as a member of the family, they would like to extend an invitation to him to attend. Finally Sam, Finally. Oscar's heart swelled with pride for his brother. He had fought so long to vindicate Sam's name, now he was being acknowledged as the hero he was.
When he read the next sentence, he almost dropped the telegram – would he or his mother liked to be the one in the ceremony, as she has already accepted the invitation. Mother?! Oscar hadn't spoken to his mother in over 20 years. The thought of seeing her again rocked his emotionally safe but closed world, and took him back in time.
"Mom, mom, look, I passed the test – I got a B."
"That's nice Oscar. Maybe next time you can get an A."
He was never able to please his parents. No matter how hard he tried, he always fell short of the mark. He skulked down the hall to his room, and shut the doo r. He tacked his paper to his corkboard. Next time. He would do better the next time. An hour later, he heard a knock at the door. It was Sam.
"Hey buddy, how was school?"
"Pretty good – I passed my test – look!" He loved his brother. Sam always made Oscar feel special, feel loved. His world was shaken when Sam graduated and left for the Naval Academy that summer. He had lost his best friend, his ally. The one person in the world who he could talk to.
When he was 10 years old, he was asked to travel to the District playoffs for his baseball team. He was the team's starting shortstop, but his parents hadn't seen a single game. He had walked the two miles to and from the field every game. Now he had to come up with 15 dollars and a parent's signature to go. He went to ask his father for the money.
"Dad, my team's going to the playoffs next weekend. I need you to sign this so I can go. And – I need 15 dollars for the trip." He was looking down at his shoes, shuffling his feet back and forth, afraid to meet his father's gaze. His father looked at his son. He looked so much like Sam. He had the same features, the same dark hair and soulful brown eyes. But he wasn't Sam. Not by a long shot. Sam was valedictorian in his class. He was top in his class at the Naval Academy. He had been an all-state basketball and baseball player. Everyone loved Sam. Oscar did well in school, but he didn't have the brilliance that Sam had. He was well liked, but quiet – not the life of the party like Sam. His father hadn't really listened to the request. He was reading the paper, talking about the war in Europe and Japan's aggression with China. He was worried. His son was in the Navy. If conflict broke out, Sam would be brought directly into the war.
"No, I don't think so. I can't afford that right now. Maybe next time."
Oscar was devastated. He would have to tell his team. That weekend Sam came home on break from school. He noticed that Oscar seemed sad. When Oscar told him their father wouldn't let him go, Sam forged his signature, and handed Oscar the money he needed. "Just tell them you're staying at a friend's house. It will be alright. Hey – by the way – knock 'em dead." Oscar would never forget that gesture. His team won the championship, and he had made the game winning run.
Things at home went along uneventfully until that fateful day - December 7th, 1941. Sam had been involved in some secret missions while in the Academy. It was highly unusual, but then Sam was highly unusual. He had been sent to Pearl Harbor just the week before. When Oscar's parents heard of the attack, they feared the worst. They tried desperately to contact Sam in Honolulu, but were unable to reach him. A few weeks later, a Naval Officer came to the door. He didn't know it yet, but the eleven year old boy's life was about to change forever. Oscar saw the man in his crisp uniform walk up to his house with a telegram in his hand. Why was his mother crying? The man hadn't even handed them the telegram. His father shoved him aside, tears in his eyes, and took the telegram. He opened it. Sam was missing and presumed dead. His mother sank to her knees sobbing.
"Why Sam – why did it have to be Sam? Why couldn't it be anyone else but him? He was the perfect son. There will never be anyone else that comes close." The words flew out of her mouth without concern that her younger son was in the room with her, digesting her words as if they were poison. Oscar tried to hug her, but she pushed him aside, unable to look at him – he was so like Sam. Oscar could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He felt like he was drowning, he could hardly breathe. The sobs kept coming, as the tears streamed down his young face. He felt betrayed. He had loved Sam and now he was gone. He had trusted him with so much. He was the only one that Oscar felt was proud of him.
Life in the Goldman household would never be the same. Oscar's mother retreated into a shell and rarely came out. His father retreated to the bottle – for a while. Then one day, he was just gone. He knew his mother blamed him for his father's departure. It was a lot for an eleven year old to bear. As the years went by, Oscar tried to attain his mother's affections. He became a serious student, making the honor roll every semester. He excelled at sports and science. He even applied to and was accepted at the Naval Academy. But it wasn't enough. Their relationship remained strained. She could never bring herself to visit him at the Academy – it reminded her too much of the son she had lost. To make matters worse, there had been talk of Sam being a traitor. Oscar saw her rarely after that. One night, his mother called him. His father had been out drinking that night. He tried to drive home, and wrapped his car around a tree. He died instantly. The last time Oscar had seen his mother was at the funeral. He was 25 years old.