I stood up and walked out of my room, straightening my shirt out as I knocked on Danny's door. "Danny, it's me," I said. I hated my Southern accent. It sounded so stupid. My mother didn't have one, why did I? Oh well, that has nothing to do with anything, so let's forget about it. Danny opened his door, slowly. I walked in and shut it behind me. He sat down in his chair next to the window. I cleared my throat. "So, why are you home today?" He shrugged. "Mama and Rafe don't know. Keep the hole in your face shut, if you can." I smiled a little. "So, what did Tina want?" He grinned a little. "Don't pull that shit, Becky. I know you were outside my door." I narrowed my eyes. He turned around and looked me in the eye. "I'm glad you were. I wanted you to hear that." I sat down on his bed. "So, what does all of it mean?" He turned the chair around, as to not strain his neck, I suppose. "Huh?" "I mean, explain it to me." He laughed a little and rubbed his face. "Your friend's two faced, Becky." I nodded. "I figured as much." "Anyway. Remember one night about 6 months ago...when Tina was stuck here during the snow storm?" I nodded. "Well, you were sleeping. I think. Hell, she probably knocked you out. Anyway, you were occupied, and so I'm trying to go to sleep when she comes in my room. At first we just kinda talked about stupid stuff..you know, the weather, how cold it was, etcetera. Then she asks me if I want to play Truth or Dare. I just kind of laugh, you know, and say sure. It was a funny/cute game at first, until she dared me to get drunk. I kept telling her no, but she kept saying stuff about how if I didn't drink too much I'd be sober by morning time. I eventually gave in. Something about the way she asked me...I don't know. I couldn't say no to her, you know? Anyway, I went downstairs and got 4 of Rafe's beers," He laughed and smacked his face. "Considering it was a 6 bottle pack, he only noticed cause he went from full pack to 2 left. But, anyway, i get drunk enough and she starts asking me things,and I answer her. That's how she found out about my daddy, Becky. I didn't just..tell her. I couldn't tell her without telling you, and you know that. Then, after that, you can figure ouit yourself," I shook my head. Calling my mother a floozy? That girl needs to look in the mirror. "Then the next day, Rafe accounted for his alcohol and when I tried to tell him she did it to me, he kept telling me not to blame my actions on other people. I guess he was right, but still...I just don't know. Put me out on the farm, in the snow, for a week. That was defeniely hell frozen over." I laughed at his pun. I didn't realize how well I listened to my brother talk, even if he was telling me something like this. He was about to open his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted. "BECKY! YOUR FATHER PASSED OUT, CALL AN AMBULANCE!!!" "Shit." Was all Danny said before jumping up out of his chair and bolting down the stairs. I just sat there and closed my eyes. Earth was coming down around me.
I paced the hospital halls, looking in on my father every now and then as I passed his room. He was so pale. And hooked up to so much stuff...I felt so helpless. And sorry for him. Deciding I couldn't see my father like that, I walked back to where Danny and my mother were talking to the doctor. I stopped before going around the corner...it was the doctor's order that I walked around instead of listening, but Rafe was my daddy and I had a right to know. So, I was going to eavesdrop. I was good at it.
"Because of the cancer in his lungs, he was suffer from shortness of breath." I heard my mother muffle an understanding "mmm hmm." "The shortness of breath will result in lack of air getting to the brain, which will cause him to pass out if he over exerts himself." "But, he wasn't over exerting himself at all, doctor. He was just walking!" My mother protested. "Well, Mrs. McCawley, I guess there's your answer. He needs to remain seated at all times," What the hell? "We'll order a wheel chair for you so that he can move among your property." I peaked my head around the corner and saw the doctor walking away, and Danny holding my mother as she quietly cried.
**Almost 3 months later; December 7th, 1960**
I walked with my mother and brother around the field, as we did always did on this day. I, weearing a simple black dress as was my mother, and Danny with his torn and battered yellow shirt that Daniel wore on this date 19 years ago. It was strange, though. We visited Daniel's grave this time. I guess we could now, since I knew. But my father wasn't there. He was in a white, sterile hospital room with bare walls. He was probably going insane staring at the same white spot, while we walked among the fields and prayed God keep the souls of those who died at Pearl Harbor, while fighting for our country. Daniel didn't die at Pearl Harbor, but he did enough service to get a visit.
We approached the grave slowly; my mother ahead of Danny and me. She knelt down at the stone structure, running her fingers over the inscribed writing. "Daniel J. Walker: Born June 2, 1918-Died April 18, 1942. A Hero in War, a Brother, and a Father: May you soar above the sky forever." I eyed Danny. He did nothing but concentrate as hard as he could on the monument. I then looked at my mother. She was still knelt, and held her palm hard against the writing. She was showing no emotion that I could see, until a single tear fell down her cheek. "You know," I kind of jumped at my mother's voice. It was deathly quiet. "It's kind of hard to believe that just 19 short years ago today..I was with him. I saw him, I talked to him. I touched him. I took blood from him," She then raised her head to look at Danny, her hair blowing in the wind. "And I loved him."
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I watched my mother scramble around the kitchen for dinner. "Why the hurry, Mama?" She didn't look at me. "I just got a call from the hospital. They've paid for me a train ticket to Nashville that leaves in a couple of hours." I sat down at the table. "Why?" Shr turned around and hastily sat 3 plates on the table. "Because, Becky. They're saying your father doesn't have much more than a week, and I need to go buy the funeral supplies and such." She sniffled and sat down. "Mama, I know this probably isn't the best time to ask," She pulled the fork up to her mouth and looked at me. "But will you tell me about Daniel?" She chewed her food and wiped her mouth. "Some day, sweetie. Not now," I nodded. "Get your brother. I'm going to drop you too off at the hospital and say bye to Rafe before I leave." I nodded and walked up to the stiars, calling Danny down for dinner.
I was sitting in the hospital chair reading a magazine while Danny just stared out the window. My father slept. My mother had come in and kissed him bye, telling him she'd be back in a couple of days. He agreed and said something about not coming to see him off, but she just smiled and kissed him again. That time she left. It was quite...sweet. If, you can even use that word for it. I noticed my dad was kind of shaking, so I put6 my magazine down and walked over to him. He grabbed the edge of my shirt. "Rebecca.." "I'm here, Daddy." Danny turned around and looked to see what was happening. "The Farm...the Farm..I must see..the Farm.." He repeated, hoarsely. I looked up at danny and gave him a look. "What is he talking about?" "He wants to go home. He wants to get out of here." I then realized. My father wanted to die in the comfort of the place where he was born and raised, and where his children were born and raised. I sighed and pulled my shirt away from his grasp, walking out of the room. "Danny," I said, turning back around. "Talk to him." Danny nodded and I walked out. I walked over to the nurses station. She smiled sweetly and looked up. "Hi, ma'am. I need to talk to someone about getting Rafe McCawley out of here." Her smile faded and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, hon. But do you know how sick he is?' I nodded, fiercely. "Yes. He does too, he wants to go home." She shook her head again. "I'm sorry again, hon. But I can't do it. Just go back on in that room and sit down til your mother comes back." I nodded slowly and started to walk away, when I decided that I wasn't going to take no for an answer. My father wanted it, and he was going to get it. I stormed back to the desk and slammed my hand on the counter. "Ma'am, I'm not gonna be like my brother," She gave me a confused look. "I'm not gonna live the rest of my life knowing that my daddy died in a cold, foreign place where he didn't know anybody or anything. So, I'm not asking ya, I'm tellin' ya," She began to shake her head. "Look, you damned medical expert. You get him in a vehicle and get him to his farm, or I will raise hell. And believe me," I smirked. The same smirk my father had often found on his face. "I will do it." The nurse nodded slowly--defeatedly--and picked up the phone to call transportation services.
I paced the hospital halls, looking in on my father every now and then as I passed his room. He was so pale. And hooked up to so much stuff...I felt so helpless. And sorry for him. Deciding I couldn't see my father like that, I walked back to where Danny and my mother were talking to the doctor. I stopped before going around the corner...it was the doctor's order that I walked around instead of listening, but Rafe was my daddy and I had a right to know. So, I was going to eavesdrop. I was good at it.
"Because of the cancer in his lungs, he was suffer from shortness of breath." I heard my mother muffle an understanding "mmm hmm." "The shortness of breath will result in lack of air getting to the brain, which will cause him to pass out if he over exerts himself." "But, he wasn't over exerting himself at all, doctor. He was just walking!" My mother protested. "Well, Mrs. McCawley, I guess there's your answer. He needs to remain seated at all times," What the hell? "We'll order a wheel chair for you so that he can move among your property." I peaked my head around the corner and saw the doctor walking away, and Danny holding my mother as she quietly cried.
**Almost 3 months later; December 7th, 1960**
I walked with my mother and brother around the field, as we did always did on this day. I, weearing a simple black dress as was my mother, and Danny with his torn and battered yellow shirt that Daniel wore on this date 19 years ago. It was strange, though. We visited Daniel's grave this time. I guess we could now, since I knew. But my father wasn't there. He was in a white, sterile hospital room with bare walls. He was probably going insane staring at the same white spot, while we walked among the fields and prayed God keep the souls of those who died at Pearl Harbor, while fighting for our country. Daniel didn't die at Pearl Harbor, but he did enough service to get a visit.
We approached the grave slowly; my mother ahead of Danny and me. She knelt down at the stone structure, running her fingers over the inscribed writing. "Daniel J. Walker: Born June 2, 1918-Died April 18, 1942. A Hero in War, a Brother, and a Father: May you soar above the sky forever." I eyed Danny. He did nothing but concentrate as hard as he could on the monument. I then looked at my mother. She was still knelt, and held her palm hard against the writing. She was showing no emotion that I could see, until a single tear fell down her cheek. "You know," I kind of jumped at my mother's voice. It was deathly quiet. "It's kind of hard to believe that just 19 short years ago today..I was with him. I saw him, I talked to him. I touched him. I took blood from him," She then raised her head to look at Danny, her hair blowing in the wind. "And I loved him."
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I watched my mother scramble around the kitchen for dinner. "Why the hurry, Mama?" She didn't look at me. "I just got a call from the hospital. They've paid for me a train ticket to Nashville that leaves in a couple of hours." I sat down at the table. "Why?" Shr turned around and hastily sat 3 plates on the table. "Because, Becky. They're saying your father doesn't have much more than a week, and I need to go buy the funeral supplies and such." She sniffled and sat down. "Mama, I know this probably isn't the best time to ask," She pulled the fork up to her mouth and looked at me. "But will you tell me about Daniel?" She chewed her food and wiped her mouth. "Some day, sweetie. Not now," I nodded. "Get your brother. I'm going to drop you too off at the hospital and say bye to Rafe before I leave." I nodded and walked up to the stiars, calling Danny down for dinner.
I was sitting in the hospital chair reading a magazine while Danny just stared out the window. My father slept. My mother had come in and kissed him bye, telling him she'd be back in a couple of days. He agreed and said something about not coming to see him off, but she just smiled and kissed him again. That time she left. It was quite...sweet. If, you can even use that word for it. I noticed my dad was kind of shaking, so I put6 my magazine down and walked over to him. He grabbed the edge of my shirt. "Rebecca.." "I'm here, Daddy." Danny turned around and looked to see what was happening. "The Farm...the Farm..I must see..the Farm.." He repeated, hoarsely. I looked up at danny and gave him a look. "What is he talking about?" "He wants to go home. He wants to get out of here." I then realized. My father wanted to die in the comfort of the place where he was born and raised, and where his children were born and raised. I sighed and pulled my shirt away from his grasp, walking out of the room. "Danny," I said, turning back around. "Talk to him." Danny nodded and I walked out. I walked over to the nurses station. She smiled sweetly and looked up. "Hi, ma'am. I need to talk to someone about getting Rafe McCawley out of here." Her smile faded and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, hon. But do you know how sick he is?' I nodded, fiercely. "Yes. He does too, he wants to go home." She shook her head again. "I'm sorry again, hon. But I can't do it. Just go back on in that room and sit down til your mother comes back." I nodded slowly and started to walk away, when I decided that I wasn't going to take no for an answer. My father wanted it, and he was going to get it. I stormed back to the desk and slammed my hand on the counter. "Ma'am, I'm not gonna be like my brother," She gave me a confused look. "I'm not gonna live the rest of my life knowing that my daddy died in a cold, foreign place where he didn't know anybody or anything. So, I'm not asking ya, I'm tellin' ya," She began to shake her head. "Look, you damned medical expert. You get him in a vehicle and get him to his farm, or I will raise hell. And believe me," I smirked. The same smirk my father had often found on his face. "I will do it." The nurse nodded slowly--defeatedly--and picked up the phone to call transportation services.