Well, I didn't get a huge response of reviews but what I did get was so awesome :) Thank you very much guys, I was truly flattered by the amazing compliments you gave me, I appreciate it more than you know! Sorry for the wait, this story will be a more slowly updated one due to the long chapters, but here's the next one!
CHAPTER TWO
I didn't drive Bonnie Wilson home that day. I didn't drive Cindy home either.
It was the heat of the day when I drove home on shaky tires. Adults gave me looks of disapproval as I passed them on the street. I should have been in my little red brick school, not making my way towards a broken mother.
When I came to the end of our path I blinked rapidly to clear my blurred vision. Up ahead I could see two cars on the porch; my mother and my pastor. I stayed still for a moment, hardly even breathing. If I didn't go up there then they couldn't tell me the truth. I'd never have to believe my Papa was dead if I didn't hear it from their mouths. Mr. Green was just a crusty, lazy principal; I bet he'd lie to me.
Then I saw Mama tremble. She was sobbing like she had been this morning. I couldn't take it any longer; I tore up the path as fast as I could. The ramp to the porch creaked and moaned with my sudden pressure, but I didn't slow down until I was at her side. I rested against her, gasping for gulps of air. I felt her lean back and she whispered for me to hush.
"Mrs. Hudson?" The pastor prompted.
"Yes… tell him," Mama said hoarsely.
I looked up over Mama's fender and searched the pastor's eyes. He was a small, grey car with dull blue eyes. The black of his pupils stood out against the clear surrounding colour with such contrast that it felt like he was looking right into my soul. He was trying to devise a way to break the news, one that would cut the shallowest.
He drew a steady breath and began, "Doc, your mother has received some terrible information at this time. Several weeks ago she was delivered a letter that indicated your father was missing in action. A small crew of soldiers was sent out in search of him. He was located in a French town, badly wounded and no longer… in a state of living. Your mother was informed of his passing just hours ago."
Finally there was absolute silence. I stared at the pastor, my body and mind completely numb. I felt tears roll down from my windshield. I didn't make a sound, and I didn't even know I was crying until I felt those cold tears.
The same cold tears came streaming down only a week later.
It was a beautiful weather for a funeral, the one that we held at the local cemetery. Mama was given the option of burying Papa at the special war cemetery but she declined the offer. "I want to be buried beside him," she told me, "They can't bury me in the war graveyard."
So, we lowered the casket at Riverside Cemetery instead. I'd never seen a casket until Papa's burial. It was long and made out of cheap pine wood, the only thing we could afford at the time. But Mama painted it up a nice white and the trim of it gold. We filled it with family photos and a couple of old trinkets that reminded us of him.
There weren't many cars I knew at the funeral. Johnny and Cord weren't able to take leave from the army to attend, and the rest were mostly extended family. There were a few neighbors though, and some friends too. Mrs. Olson came, and so did Bonnie Wilson, both of them painted in black to match with the other guests.
It wasn't long before the crowd died out. Soon, I was left in solitude, a moment just to sit and stare at the grave. It was too hard to believe.
Then I felt her presence. Bonnie parked close to me, and although we weren't actually touching I could still feel her comfort. She was offering herself as a soundboard, and the gap was merely an open space for me to close.
I didn't though; I just enjoyed her being there. After an extended period of time, I said, "You ever been to a funeral before, Bonnie?"
She looked up to the sky and then down to the ground. "Yes, my grandpa's."
I nodded and continued staring straight ahead. I knew that even those brown eyes wouldn't lift my spirits today.
She thought long and hard, then she made her statement, "Doc… you don't cry a lot, do ya?"
I didn't answer.
"You better cry now. Someday you'll be too old for it and then they'll wonder what's the matter with ya," she finished.
My eyes left the horizon to see her blank expression. "What are you talkin' about, Bonnie?" I scoffed, "Your mama tell you that?"
She shot me a look, her brown eyes blazing intensely. "No, she didn't," Bonnie spat.
I immediately regretted my words and made an attempt to apologize. I couldn't get a solid word out though.
"Forget it Doc," she turned away, "I was only trying to help."
I watched her drive away in anger. I kept my eyes focused on her until she became a hazy pinpoint in the distance. I wanted to ignore her comments and pretend that her change in mood didn't bother me. Normally, I'd just slip back into my old stubborn self. But she brought something out in me; she made my heart stir and forced me to look reality in the eye. I couldn't let her power over me escape this soon.
It was a whole week before I got up the courage to confront her. And even then, I still wasn't really ready to apologize. I missed that dazzling smile of hers, and the soft security of her eyes. So, I made the fifteen minute drive out to the Wilson house and prepared myself to somehow win her back.
I was just reaching a state of being ready when she opened the door, suddenly my confidence was gone. I waited a second to see if she would slam it shut again, but she remained silent, forcing me to strike the conversation.
"Bonnie…," I said quietly because I didn't know what else to start with. Then I remembered my plan. "Cindy and I… we were gonna make a fort this afternoon and she told me you are really good at them. So, she asked me if I would ask you… if you could help us!" I rambled and stumbled on my final sentence. She'd certainly know I was lying now.
A small smile peeked at the corner of her mouth and she said, "Sure."
Bonnie and I spent the rest of the day constructing a makeshift fort on my dried-up back lawn. It was a small shelter that gave me an excuse to sit real close to her. Cindy had opted to stay in her room instead of being roped into helping without her consent. That left just Bonnie and I alone together.
We parked inside the fort as a gentle draft came through the flimsy sheet walls. It had been a while since I'd smiled, really smiled, but she'd made me today. I thought I owed her something…
"I'm sorry."
Her brown eyes were on me in a second. She knew what I was apologizing for. She cast me a look of sympathy. "It's alright. I'm sorry too. I know you were upset, it wasn't your fault."
"You didn't do anything wrong," I countered and added slowly, "You never do anything wrong."
She smiled weakly and turned her eyes back to the world outside our fort. "Thank you," she whispered.
My heart pulsed with joy. Finally, something I'd done right.
"The war will be ending soon. Did you know that, Doc?"
"Yes," I said, "I know, that's what they keep saying anyway."
"I hope the war will end before my next birthday," she sighed wistfully.
"Me too."
"If it doesn't," she paused, and then continued nervously, "Will you come to my birthday party?"
I felt some excitement in me, another thing I hadn't registered since my father's death. I thought about the possibility, but asked soon after, "I thought you weren't allowed to have co-ed parties?"
"Well, that's my Papa's rule," she explained, "And I want him to come back home before my birthday, but if he doesn't then Mama said I could have one."
"OK, I'll come," I tried not to sound over-eager.
"Good. Or else it won't be much of a mixed party," she giggled, "Because I don't know many other boys!"
I smirked. Girls were always worried about the silliest things.
Bonnie didn't have to worry though. The end of the war came faster than we both expected. After so many years, I'd grown to forget about an armistice.
There were parades everywhere. I was given permission to wander the streets and observe the spectacle with Cindy and a classmate of mine by the name of Jim. All Jim really cared about was indulging on the free candy, so I casually ditched him after a few hours.
It was hard to join in the festivities when the thing they were celebrating the end of was the very same thing that had taken my father's life. I kept looking through the crowds, hoping that by some miracle I'd see him. They could have been wrong, maybe it wasn't his body they'd found. But as the day progressed, I came to terms with the truth; I was never going to see him again. The waiting was over; if he was ever coming back it would have been now. At least I could rest with knowing that Bonnie had got her wish, and my brothers were still alive.
That night, my second eldest brother, Johnny, finally arrived home. Even his return wasn't enough to erase my father from our minds.
We all sat around the dinner table, Johnny doing most of the talking. He told us how Cord had stayed back to marry a beautiful French girl he'd met. He chattered on about his comrade friends and what a glorious life we would now live.
As I stared at my banged up brother, I felt like asking him if he really saw what was around him. There was a deceased father, a missing brother, an emotionally scarred young girl, a hardened boy and a mother who was slowly disappearing from existence. None of which whom were ready to live 'glorious' lives.
So, the reason Doc caught his mother crying so much in the last chapter was because she knew her husband was missing beforehand and was really stressed out by it. She found out about his death during the day, right before she had Doc pulled out of school to come home.
Apologies for any spelling errors, I try my best but I may have missed some! Anyways, thanks very much for reading and reviews would be loved and encourage the next chapter. Hope to hear from you soon! :)
