He left a large tip then put his arm around his mother’s shoulders as they left the restaurant.
While so many people had been welcoming her son home, Kristen had surreptitiously held her cell phone under the table and texted a few key people. In the space of the time that it took to order, eat and speak to several people, a celebration had been put together.
Chris looked up and down his old neighborhood streets, his eyebrows knitted together. “Mom, I know Laneford is a small town, not populated with wild people that party hearty, but it’s only 8 p.m. on Friday night. Where is everyone? Sheesh. Everyone’s porch lights are off; even the inside lights are off. This is weird. Is there some sort of thing going on that I don’t know about, like a carnival or a craft fair at the school?”
Kristen shook her head as she wrapped her arms around one of his. “No, not that I know of, honey. But I don’t read the newspaper very often so there could be some big shindig going on I don’t know about.”
He grinned at her, then chuckled out loud. “Shindig? What generation are you from, Grandma Moses?”
She was laughing so hard she couldn’t fit the key into the lock. The more she tried, the harder she laughed until she dropped it.
“Here Mom, let me do this. How much did you drink at dinner, anyway?”
“Oh, listen to you! I drank my usual two glasses of iced tea, just like you did.”
He turned the knob and pushed the door open. “Well, don’t let them call me as a witness because I’d have to say I think it was something other than tea—”
“Surprise!!” Chris jerked backwards, stepping on his mother’s toes as he did so. He held his arms rigid, his fingers pressed together to form a slicing surface, his knees were bent and his back was ramrod straight. When it registered it was his neighbors shouting a cheer, he released his pent-up breath slowly. He bent over from his waist and rested his hands on his knees, head hung low and inhaling deeply. Even though his brain now realized it wasn’t a fight or flight situation, it would take longer for the adrenaline to stop rushing through his veins.
Kristen limped over to him to put an arm around him. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. It never occurred to us how you’d react. I’m an idiot! Oh Chris, if we’d known …”
He stood up, kissed his mother’s cheek and turned a smile to the assembled family and friends gathered around. “No, I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t know I’d react like that and embarrass you. Please, let’s just try to act like it never happened, okay?”
“Chris, I just wanted to surprise you.”
He laughed out loud. “Well, you certainly did that! Mission accomplished! Aw, c’mon Mom, you got this together in lightning speed so let’s have some fun. What is it your generation might say? Oh, yeah, ‘Let’s party like it’s 1999!’ Woot woot!”
“Cute, Chris, very cute. Now go find someone else to irritate.” Her loving smile belied the words that came out. Her son grinned and said, “Oh, you know you love me!”
Tears slid down her cheeks. “Oh baby boy, more than my own life. Now, go away and leave me alone. This is for you, so have fun!”
Chris scanned all the familiar faces, grinned at some, made comments to others, shook his head in mock pity at a few former fellow football players as they tried to dance and then he saw her. Emily was on the far side of the room, being held prisoner by Reverend Thacker; a good man who didn’t know when to stop talking. Emily was nodding, smiling, and glancing at Chris a few times as he made his way through the crowd. He heard her sigh of relief when he reached her side.
“Preacher Thacker! Wow, it’s been a long, long time! How have you been, sir?”
“Chris!” He pulled the young man into a bear hug that threatened to squeeze the air from Chris’ lungs. “It’s so, so good to see you, son! Why, my ol’ heart just about stopped beating when I got that call tonight that you were home, safe, all in one piece. You know what I mean there, Chris.” Shaking his head Reverend Thacker laid his arm around Chris’ shoulders. “We got too many boys coming home in boxes, Chris. Too many coming home with pieces missing, their minds messed up and their hearts broken by what they saw, what they had to do over there.”
The smile slid from Chris’ face but he kept his eyes on the minister’s face, waiting for him to fully realize that he was saying these things to one of those very same young men whose fate he was bemoaning. Evidently, it had to be more obvious for the preacher to understand. He took a deep breath, ready to launch into a new diatribe on the horrors of war when Emily stepped in to save him.
“Excuse me, Reverend Thacker, but my favorite song is playing and Chris promised me he’d dance with me when it played. Please, forgive me. Come on, Chris, you promised!” She tugged at his arm and Chris smiled an apology to the minister.
“Sorry, sir, a promise is a promise.”
Reverend Thacker smiled back and said, “It sure is, Chris, and you never want to break a promise to a sweet young lady. You kids go on; have a good time. We’ll talk later.” He turned around, “Hey, Mrs. Battenfield! I’ve been looking for you. We need to talk about that ladies’ auction you’re organizing …”
Chris and Emily walked to the middle of the dancers and shuffled their feet, somewhat in rhythm to the music. “Em, when did I promise I’d dance with you to this song?”
“You didn’t.”
“Oookay, so what’s the name of this song? Who sings it?”
“I have no idea.”
“You lied to a man of the cloth to get away from him?”
“Chris, I would have given him my first born child when I have one to get away from him.”
He hugged Emily to him, picked her up, and twirled her around a few times. “You know, Emily, I think I like you.”
She laid her head at the center of his chest and grinned.
They swayed back and forth until the end of the song then Chris leaned back to look into her face.
“So, Emily, where is this party going to be tomorrow night?”
“Down at the lake. As soon as Rick heard you were back, he started putting it together. You probably hadn’t been home thirty minutes before he heard and started arranging everything.”
As if on cue a voice from the front door was raised above all the noise of people talking and music playing to reach Chris’ ear.
“The conquering hero has returned home victorious, I say! Sergeant Johnson, sir! Richard, AKA the Rickster, Harmon reporting for duty, sir!”
Chris hung onto Emily’s hand as he crossed the room to greet his best friend. He stopped a couple of feet in front of him and looked his pal over from head to toe.
“Oh really? The Rickster, huh? And just who gave you that nickname, private? Oh, let me guess; you gave it to yourself! Yeah, ready for duty, are you, son? I highly doubt that but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, just because that’s the kind of guy I am. So, drop and give me twenty now, private!”
“Sergeant Johnson, sir! Because I was so grievously injured when I carried you on my back all those times we played football, especially when we played our rivals, I regret I am unable to follow your orders. But as team leader, sir, you should show us that it can, indeed, be done. I mean, if our leader can’t do it, how can he expect us to do it?”
Chris gave Emily’s hand a light squeeze before letting it go. He then dropped and began doing push-ups. It wasn’t long before people formed a circle around him to watch.
“One. Two. Three. Four. Five …” By the time Chris reached fifty the crowd was shouting each number. He then stood up and everyone applauded. In the middle of the noise, his pal yelled, “Show off!” Then Rick stepped close enough for only Chris to hear him. “It’s so good to have you back, bro. Don’t you ever leave again. This place isn’t the same without you, man.”
Chris lightly punched him in the belly and laughed in embarrassment. “You’re just saying that ’cause it’s true, Rick. Now come on, enjoy the party.”
“This is nice, Chris, but the one we’ll have tomorrow night
will be a real party.”
His eyes narrowed and his brows drew lower. “Just what do you mean by a real party, Rick?”
“Oh man, you know—loud music. Hey, I even got somebody to DJ for free! Lots of chicks and kegs and kegs of beer.”
Chris shook his head. “I was with you until you got to the word kegs. Rick, why not try one party without booze? Just see how it goes? Man, I’ve seen too much legitimate drama complete with blood and guts to come home and see the same thing being done in the name of fun instead of freedom.”
“Aw, man, what happened? Did you go to Afghanistan and go all holy on us, Chris? What kind of party would it be without booze?”
“Uh, a fun one where no one is hurt, angry or winds up behind bars?”
“Shoot, Chris, that’s how we always measured how great a party it was!”
“Yeah, I know that. It was immature then and it’s even more so now that we’re adults.”
“We’re 22 years olds—barely adults. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. There’ll be booze there even if I don’t bring in kegs. You know everyone brings their own. I can’t believe you changed so much in a few months.”
“And you’d never believe the stuff I’ve seen and done in those few months, either, Rick. We’ll still have the party but don’t be shocked if I don’t drink. I’ve discovered I don’t have to soak it up to have fun, plus I don’t feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck the next morning. Just let me know what time and I’ll be there.”
“You better be there, man, since this party’s in your honor.”
Chris pushed Rick’s shoulder and chuckled. “In my honor, huh? Rick, man, you look for any excuse to party.”
Rick grinned. “Ah, you know me so well! Well, I’m going to hit the road. This ‘party’ is too tame for my tastes; besides, I need to get the word out about the real party tomorrow night.”
“Rick, don’t invite any rough guys. I’m home to relax for a couple of weeks. I don’t want to go to a party and have to fight because you let your mouth overload your brain again.”
“Oh, that ain’t a nice thing to say, Christopher. Shame on you!” A grin lit up his buddy’s handsome face. “See you tomorrow, dude!”
* * *
Kristen called her boss the next morning to ask for the day off to spend with her son. To her delight, when Bob answered the phone he said, “I hope you’re not trying to come to work today. Rumor has it that you have a young man there eating you out of house and home. Since I’m afraid it might be contagious, I’d rather you stay home and take care of that ravenous person before he attacks every food-based business in town. Have fun and we’ll see you tomorrow!”
Mother and son spent their day doing unimportant things such as driving through town so Kristen could point out new buildings under construction, and accompanying Chris when he went by the high school to see his former football coach. She insisted Chris go with her to the grocery store so she’d be sure to pick up things he’d want. It was then that the day became overcast.
“I know it’s still a few weeks away, but do you know how many friends you might invite for Easter dinner? I just want an idea so I’ll know how large a ham to get.”
He faced his window, seemingly so interested in the passing scenery that he didn’t hear her question.
“Chris? Honey? How many people do …”
“None, Mom. I won’t be inviting any people over for Easter dinner because I won’t be here.”
Kristen was so surprised it took her a few seconds to respond. “But, what do you mean you won’t be here, Chris?”
“I’ll be back in Afghanistan, Mom.”
She pulled the car to the curb and put the gearshift into park. “What are you talking about, Chris? You’re out of the Marines, honey, so why would you be going back?”
Chris had a sad smile on his face as he looked at her, waiting for her to put it together for herself.
“Oh my God, you re-upped. Chris?” She began to slowly shake her head, then she shook it faster and faster until her son took her face in his hands.
“Mom, I had to. It’s not over; it’s not going to be over for a long time. They need all the help they can get. They need me.”
“No Chris, no! I need you! This town needs you! You’ve been there twice now and you’ve given enough! Absolutely not! I won’t allow this. I just won’t let you go; that’s all there is to it.”
His smile was rueful. “Mom, I’m 22 years old so, legally, I don’t need your permission. I know you’re hurt, and mad, but they need me over there, Mom! And I can’t be at peace if I don’t go back to help them.”
“Sweetheart, please don’t leave us again. I’m so scared you won’t come back next time.”
“You’re my mother, and I have aunts, uncles and cousins all over town and, man, I love my family with all my heart. But Mom, those guys over there are my brothers; they’re my family, too. I can no more leave them in harm’s way than I could leave you if someone were trying to kill you.”
Kristen buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Chris reached into the glove box and grabbed a few napkins. He pressed them into her hands and pulled her as close to him as the center console would allow.
“Mom, please don’t make this harder than is already is. I couldn’t wait to get home, see you, spend time with my friends but I started dreading this moment the second my plane landed. Please tell me it’s okay, Mom. Please tell me you’re okay with this.”
She blew her nose and then wiped her eyes. “Chris, I can’t tell you that. I’m not okay with it because I love you and never want any harm to come to you. If I could, I’d go in your place and take anything that would hurt you so you’d never experience pain or fear. But I can’t do that, either. All I can do is tell you that I’m so proud of you; that I’m amazed every day that God gave me a son like you. It’s because you’re so phenomenal that you want to go back to help. I’ll never stop worrying but I’ll also never stop praying so all I can do at this point is let you go and wait for you to come back home to me.”
Chris kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. “Death by chocolate.”
She pulled back to look into his face. “What? What are you talking about?”
“You want to know what I want at the store, right? I want Death by Chocolate ice cream, two gallons of it!”
Laughing, she put the car in gear and they headed to the store.
* * *
After dinner of chicken alfredo, garlic bread and dessert of Death by Chocolate ice cream, Chris insisted on cleaning up the kitchen.
“Wow, I remember a day not too long ago that I couldn’t bribe you into cleaning up.”
“Sure you could’ve, Mom. You just didn’t know the right stuff to bribe me with. But now that I’m grown I just realize that evolved men do their part in taking care of things around the house.”
“Well Mr. Modern Man, what are your plans for the night? Are you going to take Emily up on her offer of a date?”
“Actually, I am, in a way. I’m going to meet her at the lake where a bunch of us are getting together later.”
“Chris, the lake? Things have a habit of going bad out there lately. The cops are called to a fight or something just about every weekend.”
“They won’t be called out there this weekend, at least not because of us. I didn’t want to say anything because it’s sort of embarrassing but Rick is getting a bunch of our old friends together to well … because of me. He’s even gotten a DJ and the whole nine yards.”
“Oh Chris, he’s giving you a party because he’s proud of you. That’s so nice of him. Rick is a good boy but he can get a bit rowdy. I just hope everyone behaves themselves.”
“I told him no kegs and he almost fainted. I suggested a party with no booze at all and he looked at me as if I’d grown another head or something. Then he started saying I’ve gotten all holy and religious on him, that I’ve changed.”
Kristen was quiet, waiting for him to explain in his own way.
She hugged her son then took the dish cloth out of his hand. “I think I understand, Chris, and I’m happy you finally understand there is more to us than this life. Now, go change; make yourself smell good for Emily.”
“Aw, Mom!”
“And you might want to gargle twice since we had garlic bread.”
She chuckled when he said, “Ah, but I didn’t eat any because I know girls don’t want to kiss a guy who stinks.”
“That’s my boy—planning ahead!”
There must have been thirty cars already parked next to the lake. Since it was only 8:00 Chris was sure there would be more people showing up as the night wore on.
Gee Rick, just how many people did you tell about this “little” party, anyway?
He hadn’t gotten very far when he heard his best friend yell, “Hey, the man of the hour has arrived! C’mon Chris, I have a pile of sand here with your name written on it.”
“Sure, Rick, just what I’ve always wanted—more sand.”
“Oh, man, sorry Chris, I didn’t even think about Afghanistan when I said that.”
“Hey, buddy, not a problem. I was joking. So, where’s my sandbox?”
Rick took his arm and led him over to a real wooden box that was used as a platform for the folding lawn chair. It had a banner on the back that said, “Reserved for Our Hero, Chris!”
“Aw, Rick, man, that’s embarrassing! C’mon, take the banner off, will ya?”
Emily came bouncing up and grabbed Chris’ hand. “Hey, how do you like the banner I put on the back of your chair? Pretty cool, huh?”
Safe in the Heart of a Miracle: More True Stories of Medical Miracles Page 8