A Season Remembered
Written by: James Hellvig
All rights reserved
Josh squints in the mid-morning sun.
Signaling the patrol to halt he scans the street ahead. This is his fifth year
in the Army and his third tour in Iraq. As a newly promoted Staff Sergeant he
doesn’t have to walk point. He does so because his troopers respect him for it
and his troops are his friends.
Glancing back to ensure the
formation is in position; he nods at the new second Lieutenant, ignoring his
eye rolling radioman. The radioman is David Jerla and Josh Asher has known him
since basic. The officer uses hand signals to ask what the problem is.
The problem is…Josh doesn’t really
know. Everything looks ok, but he’s
got an uneasy feeling he can’t pin down and he isn’t about to ignore it.
Turning back to the front, he slowly scans left to right checking angles and
rooftops.
What is it?
The people seem unafraid; that’s
usually a good sign.
Traffic? No. Shops? No.….Damn!
Josh is still mulling it over when
a low voice behind him asks.
“What is it Sergeant?”
Suppressing the urge to sigh or
turn around Josh answers levelly.
“I’m not sure sir. Just..a feeling.”
Josh gives the unseasoned officer
credit, he thinks before answering.
“I respect that. But we’re exposed here.”
Frustrated at his inability to
confirm his suspicions Josh replies.
“Hold’em here while I check this out LT.”
Josh and David make eye contact and
as usual David smiles, whispering.
“Bring me back an ice cream!”
Grunting in response Josh says.
“You wish!”
The pair turn heading back to the
main group. Weapon at the ready, Josh moves forward. Two steps. Four. A young
girl ten feet away; bolts into the street running straight at him. His rifle
automatically tracks the motion his finger on the trigger. Faster than rational
thought he perceives a number of things.
First, the tears streaking down the
terrified face. Secondly, the crimson
color of the blood coming from her lower lip. Last…the snippet of wire visible
beneath her baggy shirt.
There is only instinct and
experience. He drops the rifle so that it dangles by the sling and picks up the
child, pulling her tightly to his chest before she can run past him. He is in
the process of sinking to his knees when the bomb detonates obliterating man
and child in an instant…
A squad member yells.
“ASHER!”
David spins looking for targets and
see’s his friend intercepting a black haired girl. The next instant the world
brightens and a hot wind knocks him to the ground. Rough hands grab his harness
dragging him backwards.
“Why can’t I SEE?”
Far away David hears voices
screaming. He doesn’t realize until much later than one of them was his own.
***
Halfway around the world a mother
sits up suddenly startled awake, gasping aloud.
“Josh!?”
Claire Asher blinks, her heart
thudding in her chest. The unsettling feeling slowly passes.
Just a dream… go back to sleep.
***
The morning television program
murmurs in the back ground as Claire and her husband ready themselves for work.
“Angie! Get your butt down here, you’re going to be late!” Claire shouts
at the ceiling. Her youngest is thirteen and compared to her two older brothers
a dedicated challenge.
Silence from above. Frustrated, she
yells for her husband.
“Mark! A little help here!”
Heavy footfalls echo upstairs
followed by a muted grumbling and a clear indignant,
“OK!” from her daughter. More mutterings as her husband tromps down the
stairs.
Handing him a mug of coffee, he
sighs.
“Damn I-pod!”
Before they can continue the
morning ritual the doorbell rings. Glancing at each other and the kitchen
clock, Mark shrugs.
“Jehovah’s witness?”
Claire kisses her husband on the
nose in passing.
“Be nice.”
Looking thru the etched door glass,
Claire can make out an indistinct pair of uniforms. Mouth suddenly dry, she
opens the door slightly, clearing reading the somber expressions of the young
soldiers standing there.
“Can I help you?” she asks remembering
the dread of a few days ago. Her husband has come to stand behind her.
“Mr. and Mrs. Asher. We regret to inform you that your son, Joshua
Asher, was killed in action in the Kandahar providence of Iraq on October the
12th…”
The young man continues
respectfully, but Claire’s sobs drown out his words. She’s fallen back into the
arms of her husband. They sink to the floor together each racked with grief and
shock. The young officer, teary eyed, kneels in front of them clasping a hand
to the grieving parents shoulders. He chokes out.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.”
The tight-lipped senior NCO
accompanying him, hands a packet to the rising man who accepts it and passes it
gently to the father.
“There’s information in here sir, contacts for the DOD and my number if
I can answer any questions.”
Mark nods, numbly. He extends his
hand to the obviously distraught young men. Claire still clings to his chest,
engulfed by her sorrow.
“Thank you for coming.” He says simply. Grasping each hand firmly. The
pair of soldiers brace to attention, saluting sharply and holding it for a full
three seconds tears running unashamedly down their faces.
“Sir!”
They say in unison. Snapping their
arms down, they abruptly turn and walk, stiff- backed to their vehicle. Mark knows
they are paying him a heart-felt courtesy, honoring his son.
Angie bounces down the stairs,
I-pod blaring in her earphones. Passing the front hallway, she’s startled to
see both her parents crumpled together in the doorway. Skidding to a halt she
pulls the earpieces out and hears the painful sobs of her mother. Hurrying down
the hall, she knows something terrible has happened.
“Mom? Daddy?”
Her parent’s heads turn, their
features struggling to regain composer. Falling to her knees beside them, they
tell her about the death of her oldest brother, the trio rock in agony
together.
***
David stares out the window of the
Walter Reed facility in Maryland. The low level ache from his missing left eye
is inconsequential to the guilt and depression gnawing at him.
Why me? I shouldn’t be here! Josh..Damn
it all to hell!
Thanksgiving is only days away and
the rest of his unit is rotating home soon...Home for Christmas, it’s a rarity
for front line units.
Like it matters now!
Angry with himself and for the way
he feels, David steps away from the window,
Discharged tomorrow..NOW what the
hell am I supposed to do?
***
The funeral and service for Josh
had been difficult. They hadn’t even had the option of an open casket. The Army
had awarded him a medal. The Distinguished Service Cross, posthumously. The descriptions of the events for its award
had made her both proud and sad. Her son had become a man she really didn’t
know very well. And now she never would.
The folded flag and the medal were
encased in glass on the mantel.
Mark’s way of coping.
Claire hated the damn things. They
were a constant reminder of what she’d lost. She put them in the closet each
day he left for work and set them back up before he returned. Her way is in
sticking to tradition.
The table is set with the usual trimmings
and her family and relatives are trying hard to act normally. Josh had been
deployed the last two years during the holidays. This was to have been his first
Christmas home in four years.
Claire lies across her bed, face
buried in her pillow, weeping softly. Mark enters the room and eases himself
down next to her running his hand through her hair. Claire rolls over, wrapping
her arms around him.
“I was wrong! I can’t do this! Not when the one I want to see will
never…”she break’s off sobbing.
“Shhh. It’s ok. We don’t have to have a big gathering. Christmas will
just be us… and the kids, OK?”
Mark holds his wife, murmuring into
her ear softly. He doesn’t expect the next holiday to be any easier.
***
David gathers his dress coat
tighter around him in the frigid December weather. Snow is falling and he has
two stops to make on his ten plus hour journey to Burlington Vermont. Christmas
is two days away and he has one last mission to complete. The flight he had
originally planned is indefinitely delayed. Weather be damned, he won’t let it
stop him. Getting into the rented four-wheel dive Cherokee, he turns the heater
on high and eases into traffic.
***
Angie and Claire sit together on
the couch, Mother holding her daughter, watching the sun set outside the
window, snow falling steadily and building gradually towards a storm. The
Christmas lights blink merrily on the tree in the corner, presents wrapped and
stockings hung.
I managed that much at least…Angie
has had to help so much lately!
Mark and her middle son Eric are
clumping around in the garage. Stacking firewood.
Cancelled his plans with his
collage friends for me. Or maybe he needs to be with us too?
She’s tired. They all are.
Emotionally drained and unsure of the future; it doesn’t feel like any
Christmas she can remember. Claire doubts any of them ever will again.
“I love you Mom.” Angie says softly.
Kissing the top of her head, Claire
chokes back tears, whispering.
“I do you too baby.”
Outside the snow continues to fall.
Beautiful and uncaring.
***
David stares intently out the
window, wipers on high as they plod along at a snails pace. What should have
taken ten hours has now doubled and they’re only half way there.
“SHIT!” he says, pounding the wheel.
“You need to let me drive!” proclaims Hector from the back seat.
“Didn’t you grow up in Florida?” Sam asks, turning his huge bulk around.
“Yeah…but…” Hector begins to object.
“Then suck rocks! I ain’t
given you the wheel in this shit!”
David proclaims.
The debate becomes more heated
until Sam whistles loudly.
“You dudes gotta chill! I grew up in New York. I’ll drive a while, OK?”
Both of his teammates grumble their
consent and David gratefully finds a place to pull over. Running around the
front of the vehicle, the two men swap places.
Sam ratchet’s the seat fully back to get under the steering wheel.
“Every-things built for midgets!” He mumbles.
Moving again, David slumps in his
seat closing his eye. It’s good to be back with his teammates.
We’re coming brother…we’re coming.
***
Mark’s eyes open before dawn; they
often do lately. Quietly easing himself from their bed, he heads downstairs to
make coffee and start a fire. He reflects that in past years, he’d sneak down
early to set out the unwrapped Santa gifts for each of his children. A ghost of
a smile crosses his lips, fond memories of squealing youngsters racing down the
steps replaying in his minds eye.
If we could only keep them
there…and safe.
Paused at the foot of the stairs,
he stares; caught in the twinkling tree lights, at the mantel display.
I miss you son…
Sighing loudly, he continues toward
the darkened kitchen. The promise of coffee beckons his weary mind.
***
David slows in response to the GPS
directions. The snowfall had ended a few hours before, leaving the countryside
covered in four inches of fresh snow.
Thirty-seven hours! Sigh…I so
screwed the pooch on this one!
The newly risen sun glistens on every
surface, sparkles of light shining like diamonds as far as they can see. The
occupants silently watch the GPS tick down the last remaining mile of their
journey.
***
The usual festivities of the morning are muted, feeling forced. The
Asher’s have opened their gifts and raided the stockings. A ritual that
normally required much fanfare and silliness, this morning was done with the efficiency
of IRS accountants.
Sitting together, sipping coffee
and chocolate, they half-heartedly debate a breakfast menu that none are really
in the mood for. Preparing to go to the kitchen, Claire is the first to notice
the strange vehicle pulling onto the driveway.
It’s covered in salt and road
grime, making identifying the occupants impossible. Squinting towards the
window, she turns a puzzled expression to her husband. Mark leans forward,
noting the out of state plates he raises a questioning eyebrow to his son.
“Anyone you know Eric?”
Shaking his head negatively, he
replies.
“Nope. Most likely lost tourist.”
Angie plops down on the floor in
front of her father.
“Hey, they’re getting out.”
The passenger door opens and a colossal
black man unfolds himself from the vehicle, stretching and grimacing in
discomfort. In stark contrast, from the rear door a much smaller Hispanic man
exits, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun.
The driver steps out last, haggard
looking, with a large black eye-patch covering his left eye. All three men are
dressed in rumpled dress uniforms and stand gazing at the front door, unaware
that they’re being observed.
Reaching back into the rear of the
vehicle, Hector retrieves a brightly decorated package and the trio start
towards the porch, each man tugging their uniforms and adjusting the dark
berets into position.
The Asher family bunches up at the
door, each burning with curiosity. Claire leads the tiny procession, opening
the door as the young men step onto the porch, stomping their boots to knock of
the snow.
“Can we help you?” she asks. A part of her fears the answer.
Can they not know about Josh? They
all look so tired…
Heads coming up in unison, the man
with the eye patch answers politely.
“Yes Ma’am. We’re sorry to interrupt your morning, we meant to be here
yesterday but the weather slowed us down a bit. We all served with your son
Mrs. Asher, I’m David and this is Hector and Sam.” David points at each man,
who in turn, nods nervously, mumbling.
“Ma’am”
Before he can continue, Claire
opens the door wide inviting them in saying.
“Please, come in! It’s freezing out here.”
Mark grasps each man’s hand as they
enter the door, introducing himself, Angie and Eric. Telling them.
“Don’t worry about the boots gentlemen, we’re used to it around here.”
Obviously uncomfortable, the young
men stand near the entrance after the door closes surveying the decorated
living room. Eric notices that all their eyes are drawn to the display on the
mantel. David meets each family members
eye before continuing.
“Thank you all. We won’t stay long. I know you’re all wondering why
we’re here. We’ve spent some time gathering some of Josh’s things that the Army
didn’t know he had. We thought you should have them.”
Hector steps forward with the
wrapped box and hands it to Angie, smiling.
“Merry Christmas. I kindia got carried away with the tape. Sorry.”
Claire struggles to maintain her
composer. She takes David’s hand, telling them all softly.
“The least we can do for all of you is to get you some coffee, chocolate
if you prefer. Please. Come in and have a seat. Are you hungry? We were about
to start breakfast.”
The young men stutter denials and
shuffle their feet, not wanting to hinder the family’s time together. David
finally relents saying.
“Coffee would be fine Ma’am. We’re not
hungry…”
Sam’s stomach growls loudly, making
everyone stop and look at the mortified man.
Grinning and squeezing the man’s
shoulder, Mark chuckles, saying.
“I think that settles that! I hope you all don’t mind getting drafted
into some K.P. duty, my wife says nobody eats
for free!”
The soldiers smile at one another,
Hector quipping deadpan.
“OK Mr. Asher, but we might have to go out back and do some hunting…you’ve
never seen Sam eat!”
Sam rolls his eyes, making Eric and
Angie snicker. Poking his sister, he tells them.
“C’mon guys. Dad’s only half kidding,” Claire playfully swats his
shoulder. “I’ll show you where the cups are.”
Entering the large kitchen, Claire
seats her guest at the bar style table while Angie and Eric set cups of hot
beverages in front of them. Gathering items to be prepared, Mark sets each on
the island while Claire bangs pots and pans into position on the stove. With quick efficiency, Claire assigns task to
everyone in attendance and the horse-trading begins in earnest. The Asher
parents are amused at how quickly the three young men adapt to the family
tradition. Sam tells Angie shrewdly.
“I don’t know…peeling potatoes and
grating them seems like an awful lot of work compared to mixing eggs and chopping
a few vegetables.”
She replies indignant.
“It’s the onions that make it
rough! I’m doing you a favor cause
you’re a guest!”
Chuckling, Sam relents saying.
“OK. It being Christmas and all, I’ll take your word for it.”
Picking up the large bowl with the
carton of eggs and omelet fixings, Angie walks behind the seated soldiers,
mouthing a silent “YES!” and pumping
her arm in victory over the trade. David looks down the length of the short
counter to his teammate and says loudly.
“Rube!”
Glaring menacingly at his teammate,
Sam growls.
“Mind yo business, pancake mixer!”
Hector who has been given the task
of helping Eric set the table howls in delight, snickering under his breath.
“Batter beater!”
“Dish monkey!” David retorts.
Eric guffaws. Poking his sister, he
snorts.
“Yoke yanker!”
“GROSS” Angie yell’s punching his arm.
Mark is doubled over in laughter,
as are the younger men in attendance. Claire, smiling herself, steps in saying.
“Alright boys, less yickity-yack, more working! Slapping her snorting
husband on the rear, she turns her attention back to the stove.
I would have never dreamed we could
all laugh again…
***
Finishing the meal, the group
returns to the living room; each more comfortable with each other. The soldiers
had shared some of their stories with the family at breakfast. Carrying the
wrapped package back into the living room, the family sits together on the sofa
and David and his friends cluster around in chairs facing them. David says.
“I know I speak for all of us when I say that was the best meal any of
us has had in a long time. Thank you all.”
The family smiles as David
continues.
“We never intended to stay this morning. As we told you, we just wanted
to deliver this and pay our respects. Through Josh, we all felt like we already
knew you and each of you welcomed us and made us feel at home.” David’s voice
is quiet and becoming emotional. He finishes,
“Thank you. I…we, don’t want to overstay
that welcome.”
Starting to rise, the family stands
as a whole and asks them to stay. Angie saying.
“You have to at least watch me open your present!”
Exchanging glances with Sam and
Hector, David nods his acceptance. Sitting down, Angie unwraps the box, opening
the lid and taking out the contents. There are several large photographs of her
brother and his fellow soldiers. She looks longingly at each before passing
them to her waiting brother and parents. There is a small hard drive and a DVD
disc, which she removes and holds in her hands looking at Sam
questioningly. His deep baritone is
hushed in reply.
“The drive is full of pictures and video clips of our deployments that
we gathered from everyone we could find that had ever served with Josh. Some of the images are grainy and most of the
clips are just passing shots and general stuff.” He takes a deep breath and
continues.
“The DVD is a compilation of the best clips and pictures and a clip that
Josh made just for all of you.”
The surprise is evident on the family’s
expressions. Hector says.
“Josh made it for Thanksgiving to send to you. We were all kindia in
it…”Hector blushes, clearing his throat. “Horsing around before he threw us
out. The Army didn’t send it, because it was on my camera. Josh was going to
edit our messing around out…but…” Hectors eyes fill with tears and he shrugs,
sniffing. “David thought you should have it anyway. That it was the right
thing…”
Each member of the Asher family has
tears streaking their faces. Claire wipes her eyes and takes the disc from
Angie, rising from the couch and kneeling in front of the soldiers, she asks.
“Can you watch this with us?”
David nods in response, his lips
pressed tightly together. Claire hands the disc to Mark and after starting it
in the player, he reclaims his seat next to his wife. The picture comes up,
Josh’s tanned face filling the screen as he backs away from the camera, sitting
on a cot in what appears to be a large, cluttered tent. He’s dressed in a sweat stained t-shirt and
grins broadly at the screen saying.
“Hi guys! Welcome to the exotic Middle East! As you can see, our Uncle
Sam spares no expense in our lavish accommodations!”
Smirking at his own joke, Josh continues.
“I wanted to take a minute to tell you all that I’m fine and that I’m
excited about seeing you all soon…” In the background, David strolls in wrapped
in a towel. Seeing the camera, he starts waving and hula dancing. Josh turns
around, mumbling.
“My Mother is going to see
this! Get out’a here!” Grinning, David exits the frame. Turning back around
Josh tries again.
“Sorry. Anyway, what I was saying is; I’m gonna really miss not getting to
eat turkey with you…”
Hector enters the background,
making faces and yelling.
“HI MOM!”
David returns, dirty dancing and
laughing loudly. Josh turns around
annoyed, yelling for Sam.
“Sam! Throw them both out!”
Sam rushes into the video, picking up a startled and loudly protesting Hector
and pointing at the still gyrating David, he booms out.
“STOP all that HOMO shit you
pervert!”
Sighing loudly, Josh turns back to
the camera, leaning in for the switch saying.
“Guess I’ll do this later.”
An instant later his image returns
and in it he’s cleaned and in a lighted office space, sitting on a desk facing
the camera. He chuckles to himself and says.
“Hey Mom and Dad. I’ll tell you what was so funny, when I see ya at
Christmas. I just wanted to tell you all that, I’m ok. I miss you all. A lot. I can’t really explain
it…but I wanted to tell you so that you’d know and so you wouldn’t worry so
much.
I’m in a place that’s hard
sometimes, but I’m here with an amazing group of people. Its kindia like having
a family.” Josh smiles again.
“A really dysfunctional one..But
family. Please don’t believe all that crap in the news. Most of the people over
here want our help. It’s important. What
gets me though is knowing that no matter what…each of you is always with me.
Its weird…I hear Dad’s voice, telling me stuff when I was a kid. Mom
encouraging me…Eric and Angie, us helping each other and picking on each other.
All that stuff…it makes me a better soldier. And a better person.”
He pauses and shakes his head; looking at the
floor, then back to the camera.
“Wow. What I guess that means is
if all of you are with me..then a part of me is always with you. No matter
where I am, or how far away, that will always be true. I love you guys. Have a
great Thanksgiving and I’ll be seeing you soon.”
The picture fades to black and
pauses with a menu showing various labeled sections.
Claire and Mark hold each other weeping,
as do Eric and Angie. David’s head hangs between his knees and Hector and Sam
have tears running freely down their face.
Jerking to his feet, David tells the family.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve edited the goofy parts out. We should go.”
Claire stands, Mark and their
children following and embraces David, squeezing him tightly. Angie hugs Sam
and Eric and Mark take turns hugging each man in turn. Claire’s voice is
broken, but she manages to get David and the others to sit back down. Kneeling
in front of the anguished man, she tells David.
“How can you think such a thing? You.. all of you have given us something I thought was impossible! You gave us back our son! I
get to know him..say goodbye to him…” Her voice breaks again and she hugs each
man.
***
Many hours later, after watching the clips and telling the stories that
accompany them, they stand together in the dwindling light, long shadows
falling across the unbroken snow. The marker is a simple one. Each soldier has
knelt, whispering private words of goodbye. They have all cried, laughed and
shared together. Where there was once a hollow emptiness, there is now tempered
warmth filled with remembrance and hope.
©
James John Hellvig 4-24-2103. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this
material without express and written permission from the author and/or
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