January 3rd, '61
He couldn't remember the last time he had been in this town let alone visited his parents. It was easy to shove aside one's personal ties when in this line of work, but the way Mason did it was not a way to be admired. He had a way of personally insulting someone by ignoring all attempts of communication which led to less than desirable outcomes. It wasn't that he had forgotten them, but rather that he found it easier to act as if they didn't exist. The last time he spent the holidays with them was probably the winter of fifty nine. It was only two years ago, but that made all the difference. At least he returned his parents calls then.
To be honest with himself, he wasn't quite sure what he was doing there today. Maybe it was that a sudden feeling of guilt manifested after realizing how alone he had been in the past year. Listening to the resolutions and holiday stories of his coworkers only brought about his memories of when he used to associate himself with his family. Stories of wives, girlfriends, and children, all seemed to put him in a state of shock. It hadn't been the first holidays spent alone, but back then he felt a little less in general. Looking back he still wasn't quite sure why he had grown apart.
Alex wasn't one to enjoy sharing feelings or emotions, therefore pleasant memories were the ones he lacked. It wasn't that he was a cold person, just that he enjoyed submersing himself in his own existence that didn't include particularly caring for other's. He was young with his own life and a job that seemed to swallow up even the most family orientated lives of many men and women. That had become his excuse for cutting off. Through his mind it seemed like a suitable alternative to being close with his family and then having him be lost to his line of work which was extremely possible.
It had recently come to his knowledge that soon he was to carry out a top secret mission in Cuba. He hadn't been fully briefed on the mission, but only given advice to enjoy the holidays while they last. To him that was a translation to it could be your last. He had known there had been some worry about the communism take over but he failed to question what the purpose of the mission was. It was not his job to question the purpose. But if he by chance did not return, he'd hope to leave his personal life on a positive note.
That January morning was particularly cold. The kind of cold that could leave you frostbitten if not prepared. It was Alaska's welcome home gift, not one that was unfamiliar to him. Having grown up in the heart of the state so close to the Antarctic, freezing your ass off becomes second nature. It was considered a warm day for it to be above 30 at this time of year. Still, the snow always served as somewhat of an annoyance. Especially in traffic.
He had arrived on an early flight that morning from Washington D.C. and arrived in the small airport of Fairbanks, Alaska. He hadn't planned to stay long, a week at the most. The agency had been rather lenient on breaks given the season and the coming mission. It was important for the men to see their families, although it had come to be the least of Mason's worries.
Once he arrived at his parents house on the familiar street of his childhood, it struck him only then that he wasn't sure of the reaction he'd get from his family. Whether or not they would be thrilled or enraged at the fact that he hadn't visited in a year was a mystery. His mother he had figured out, she should welcome him with open arms. But she was not the one he was worried about. His father had a tendency to hold a grudge, a trait that he later inherited. The thought of having to deal with the same stare he would receive as a teen caused him to rub his temple in shame.
So here he was, at the door to his childhood home. The snow was still falling and the air was as dry and cold as he remembered it. By instinct he shoved his hands into his coat pockets to take a moment to reassess the situation. But it didn't take long for his impulsive nature to kick in as he rang the doorbell within the moment. He still hadn't thought of what to say.
He breathed out a cloud of air formed by the chilled temperature. This whole situation had been an act on pure impulse. That was also trait of his that he wished could have been trained out of him. But it wasn't, and here he was greeting his family after more than a year. He probably should have sent a letter as a warning, but that would have taken too long. All these thoughts cluttered his mind at the moment bringing about a headache. That was when the door opened, and it was his mother.
She had still looked the way he remembered her. Old, but not too aged. Not the kind of age where your hair was grayed and your skin began to sag off your face to the point where you were unrecognizable. She was a young mother to begin with, and now she was only about fifty going on fifty one years old. Not yet had she grown frail, for she had always been a strong and healthy woman that one might think would forever be young. Her chocolate brown hair was faded with few visible gray hairs produced by the stress of both her years and her children's youth. She was not very wrinkled with only crows feat to outline her green eyes. The same green eyes she had passed on to Alex.
Her face was blank for a moment as she looked to her son which she had not yet realized was her son. After the silence came realization that lit her face up like a firework on the fourth of July. Not in a smile upon her lips, but a glow in her eyes,
"Alex?" She questioned although she already knew. He could have grown a beard with long hair and she could have still recognized her son. A heartfelt smile filled his face,
" Hey, Mom." She could have smiled for all he knew, but even the fastest of eyes could not have been able to see before she had wrapped her arms around her sons neck. She held him as close as her elder arms could allow her,
"My Alex! My Baby, where have you been! Why has it been so long? Are you safe? You didn't lose anything did you?" She frantically let go, lifting up his arm to inspect his hands and fingers as if the only reason he had come home was due to some freak accident.
"I'm fine, all limbs in tact." The smile never left his face, it wasn't that it was fake joy plastered on his lips but rather that he had to blow it up for his mother, "Works been busy as…" He caught his language before spoke, only pausing briefly to continue, "ever."
She released his hand, fixing her warm gaze back up to the face of her son. She stared in disbelief for a moment as her smile never ceased. She couldn't help but hug him with as much strength as before. He laughed,
"Alright, Ma, let's get inside. I don't want you to catch a cold." He peeled his mother's hands off of his neck, leading her into the two storied house. All the while she continued to stare in disbelief,
"Oh don't get me started on my health. The doctor's had nothing but bad news for me ever visit!" She complained, throwing her hands in the air as she spoke. He turned his head back to his mother, his smile having faded to a blank expression to display his somewhat concerned self,
"Are you alright?" He questioned,
" I'm not sure. You know doctors, always using fancy names to cover up the fact that they don't know a thing! I'm healthy as can be, you know your mother." When it came to health, Mrs. Mason had the same mentality towards doctor as any man. That they all had no better idea than you and that if you feel fine, you are fine.
Alex found his way into the living room already knowing the lay out of his former home. They hadn't moved a thing in 20 years, and that was the way he loved and remembered it. He found his way to the La Z Boy recliner and sat down, holding his hands behind his head. His mother came up behind him, leaning against the back with one hand on it's head,
"Can I get you anything, Alex?"
"If anything I should be getting you something." He motioned over to the couch, to which she complied and went over to sit. She tucked her skirt under her legs, sitting ever so daintily. It was so like her, he thought. She was always a healthy and mentally strong women, she had things figured out, he would say. But she was also caring and a loving mother. She would go great lengths to impress and be sure that what she was doing was proper.
He reclined on the couch like chair, closing his eyes as to relax. It came as a shock to him that he even had the ability after it being so long. Tense feelings seemed to be what he had in mind, yet here he was with his mother trying to spoil him. For a while, everything felt normal,
"So where's Dad? Still working?"
"He's retired, Mason."
"Right…"
"He's upstairs, I should probably go get him… but you know your father, who knows how happy he will be to see you." A pained expression filled her face as she stared at her son.
It was difficult for her to think about her husband being angry at her son whom she loved so much. To see them fighting was the worst thought of all; she could even say it was her worst nightmare. All she wanted at the moment was for her husband, Alex's father, to embrace him the same way she had. But even his wife of thirty years had a hard time predicting his reactions.
"I've already thought about it, I probably won't be staying long 'cause of it."
"Alex, you know that would only make it worse. He's only upset because you're never around anymore."
"I can't help that and you know that."
"But your father doesn't. He served in a time where you left for a few years and came home. You're gone all the time and we never know when or if you'll be home for good."
"Do you want me to go to war?"
"Goodness, No!" The shout came loud and unexpectedly. An unwanted frown formed from her creased eyebrows that seemed to alert Alex that he screwed up. Here he was home after a year and pissing off his old mother, his exact opposite goal, " Especially not in this never ending war. I just wish you would have some consistency. We love you, Alex, we just want to see you more."
"My life's never been consistent." Their conversation was silenced by the sound of footsteps descending down the stairs. Each creak echoing louder than the next. It caused Alex to snap back to sit up and turn around. All the while his mother sat on the couch with her hand over her mouth shaking her head. He continued to stare at the staircase that faced the opposite wall behind him. Feet were the only thing he could make out.
When the elder man reached the bottom of the stares, he turned to walk into the living room. The first thing he saw was the thing that caused him to pause. He stood still as he saw the head of his son turned around from the recliner. His eyes squinted, not out of anger but because of the fact that his eye sight hadn't been what it used to. Silence followed,
"Alex? That you?"
"Yeah dad, is that you? You got all old." This time his eyes squinted for a different reason as he made his way next to the recliner. He peered at him from under his thin rimmed glasses,
"You show yourself here after 3 years and all you do is insult me."
"It's only been a year." The old man mumbled what seemed to be a "whatever" under his breath, obviously not caring about the time,
"Might as well have been. What're you doing here?"
"I thought I'd come say hello to my wonderful family." He joked, smirking at his own smart comment,
"After a year."
"Yeah." He seemed to roll his eyes at his son, who quickly caught it but never said a word of it. The elder man walked over to take a seat next to his wife.
He appeared noticeably older than Alex's mother. Not that his skin was sagging, but that his formerly dark brown hair had almost completely faded into grayness. The glasses meant to perfect his eyesight only added to the image. Once taken a seat, he leaned over with his elbows on his knees. It seemed as though he were about to interrogate him,
" So you've been too busy with this goddamn war that we've lost to come around once in a fucking blue moon?" His wife slapped him hard on the back, to which he groaned and sat back up,
"Ben!" He grumbled an insincere apology before Alex had a chance to respond,
" I have other duties. I don't have time to stop by every Saturday like you want. Hell, I live in another state."
"I know Alaska is out of the way for your work, but it's been a year Alex!"
"I can't help that."
His dad peered at him from across the room, leaning back wrapping his arm around the back of the couch. It crossed around his angered wife, and she glared at him from the corner of her eye. It had been forever since she had seen her son and here he was trying to scare him away,
"Did you hear about Marion having her baby? It was a boy you know."
"No."
"Of course you wouldn't, you don't hear anything anymore because you're never around."
"Ben!"
"Darleen, quiet." Alex was too busy shaking his head trying to sustain from becoming frustrated. This all had been a mistake after all. A blue vein seemed to be visible from his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temple,
"She said that she couldn't wait for him to meet his uncle Alex, the hero. You know what I said? Fat chance."
"You know what, this was a mistake." He got up to leave, to which his mother stood in protest,
"Alex, wait."
"It's fine, Darleen, let him go."
He made his way to the door, taking his coat off the peg and slipping one arm inside,
" Come back later, Alex, I'll have him calm by then." He gave a sarcastic laugh under his breath as he finished putting on his coat. He yelled out behind him as he left the house,
" Happy New Years, Ma."
"You too, sweetheart." She yelled out behind him.
Once he was out of hearing range and had left the house, she turned to her husband who leaned against the door frame. He looked at her, and she glared at him. How could he do this? She threw her hands in the hair and let out an angry groan as she whipped around and stormed out of the room.
