Chapter Five - A Promise Kept
Tennessee, 1945
It had been three years since Danny had left. But Rafe was still having trouble bringing himself to enter Danny's old house. It had been standing, run-down and deserted, since Danny had first left Tennessee. The war had ended only recently. Rafe had been planning to go in and straighten it up, but the mere sight of the old wooden shack gazing at him from outside his window was enough for him to start thinking of Danny, and the happier past they had. Even though they were the best memories in his whole life, they hurt. Evelyn never dared to raise the subject with him. Nor did she consider herself worthy of entering Danny's old house. That was a job for Rafe.
He walked out of his house and stood, momentarily still, with his eyes trained on Danny's old house. Suddenly something in him stiffened his resolve, and taking a deep breath, he strode purposefully towards his best friend's home. "You gotta do this, Rafe," he murmured to himself. "Go in for Danny."
As he drew closer and the house grew larger, Rafe slowed his pace. His throat felt dry. There was a churning feeling in his gut. He couldn't walk any faster than he had to. The sight of the house made memories rush back stronger than they ever had. He thought sadly of the time they had mistakenly flown a plane, and how he had hit Danny's father with a plank, calling him a German. There was a slight bitterness in his mouth. All of that was in the past now. He and Danny would never run together in the field again.
He was at the door now, looking up at the calm and unchanged house that held so much of his past. Closing his eyes, he reached out and pushed open the door before he could back out. It creaked on its hinges. The squeak sounded especially loud in the stillness surrounding him.
He felt his foot hit something. Looking down, he saw a parcel. He bent down wonderingly and picked it up.
There was no name on it. The address was correct. Rafe found himself wondering how long the package had been lying neglected, since he was the first person to have approached the house in many, many years.
Curiosity got the better of him. Holding the mysterious parcel, he entered Danny's house.
Everything was exactly the way he had left it. There was the same outdated furniture that Cole Walker had salvaged from the junkyard, and a row of tiny toy planes decorating the coffee table. Those had belonged to Danny.
Rafe choked back the lump in his throat. He went over to the rocking chair, dusted it off, and settled into it. Studying the parcel again, he finally brought his fingers to the string, untied it, and ripped the brown paper apart.
A thick, plain, leather bound book fell into his lap. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He knew immediately what he was looking at. It was Danny's journal.
He opened the journal with some uncertainty. On the first page, Danny had signed his name. Daniel Walker. In smaller print near the bottom of the page, he had written: Please send this journal to the following address if found. His old address followed. So that's why they sent it here, Rafe realised.
He turned the page and found himself looking at a hand-drawn picture of two little boys. One was taller, and was wearing an infectiously wide grin. The other was smaller, younger, and also smiling unreservedly. Under the picture, scribbled in crayon, was Me and Rafe. It was dated June 5, 1925.
Rafe found himself laughing quietly despite the painful memories. He turned the page again. Danny had obviously been a conscientious writer. There were pages upon pages filled with neat handwriting. He started to read the first entry, struggling to make out the words.
June 5, 1925
It's my birthday today. Daddy's not here. I don't know where he's gone. Sometimes I wish I had a normal Daddy like Rafe and all the other boys. But that's okay because I have Rafe for my best friend. He'll remember my birthday. He'll be nice to me.
A warm feeling settled into Rafe's heart. He turned the page, and continued reading. For a long time, he sat there in the rocking chair, reading more than he had ever read in his life. He was lost in thoughts of the past, as Danny's journal took him on a trip of reminiscences...
***
Rafe had been idly reading on, when suddenly the date on the page caught his attention. His eyes widened in recognition.
December 7, 1939.
He remembered that particular day well. Not because December 7 marked Pearl Harbor, but because it was the day they had gotten promoted from cadet to 2nd Lieutenant. It was the day they had shook on a promise.
...I made myself a promise. One day, I'll be like him...
Rafe felt familiar tears gather in his eyes. He looked up from the faded yellow page. A scene replayed itself in his mind's eye. In it, he saw Danny and heard his exact words come to him again.
"Well Rafe, I promised myself that one day I'd be like Doolittle. An inspiration."
Rafe's first thought was sadly accusing. You didn't keep your promise, Danny.
Then he thought some more, and realised that maybe, in his own quiet and unknowing way, Danny had kept his word after all. He had been an inspiration, perhaps not in the way he had meant, but an inspiration nevertheless.
He closed the journal. He would read the rest at home. Right then, he was feeling an urge to write something back. Which was a rare feeling for Rafe McCawley.
As if guided by a higher power, Rafe headed out of Danny's house and shut the door silently. He went back to his own house, found a piece of paper and a pen, and ran out to Danny's grave. It was where he always felt the most intense emotion.
He didn't have to think. The words flowed out so naturally he didn't even worry about spelling.
My gift is my song
And this one's for you
And you can tell everybody
That this is your song
It may be quite simple
But now that it's done
Hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind
That I put down in words
How wonderful life was
When you were in the world.
He stopped writing. Setting the paper aside, Rafe dug a small deep hole in the dirt with his bare hands. He neatly folded the song he had written for Danny, and placed it gently in the earth before covering it up.
He sat back and looked at the freshly dug patch of ground beside Danny's grave. Turning his head to look at Danny's marble headstone, he gave a small salute and a warm smile. "This one's for you, Danny," he said softly.
Behind him, the sun was setting. A small breeze was playing around the leaves at his feet. Rafe took one last, wistful look at Danny's grave, and holding the journal like a treasure, he got up and slowly walked home.
There were so many dreams they had left behind them. But Rafe felt at peace now. He was a blessed man, he realised, to have even had Danny in his life.
Danny had more than kept his promise.
***
Author's Note:
That's it for this fic...and I don't mind saying this one was one of my favourites. The song that Rafe wrote for Danny was the opening verse of "Your Song", from the movie Moulin Rouge, which I just watched, and I love it! Almost as much as I love Pearl Harbor. "Your Song" is my favourite song from Moulin Rouge. Ewan McGregor can sing so beautifully! I changed the last 2 lines, if you noticed, to fit the situation. Hope nobody minds.
Anyway, thank you to all my loyal readers...you know who you are, but I'll mention some of you anyway. Thank you to Kitty Kat, Dauphin, Sara and MoronicShrew. And this is a big hello going out to Josh Hartnett's Girl and Kortney, if you're reading!
And now...I am officially announcing a hiatus. For details read my forum post. Bye all, and thank you to you too for reading.