“What is it?”
“Let’s go to your room.”
Jason reversed and the two moved back down the hallway into Jason’s room. He sat down and leaned the crutches against the wall while the chaplain pulled a chair up next to his. “What is it? It’s got to be bad news.”
“I’m afraid it is. I got this letter from your brother’s wife, Mrs. Alona Moran. She asked me to speak with you.”
“Someone is sick,” Jason said. “Who is it? One of the boys?”
“No. It’s your brother, Oscar.”
Instantly Jason knew the worst. “He’s gone, isn’t he, Chaplain?”
The man nodded slowly. “She enclosed a letter here for you in which she’ll tell you the details, but she wanted me to break the news to you. I’m sorry, Jason. She says he slipped away peacefully.”
Jason took the envelope the chaplain handed to him, feeling empty inside. “We had our differences, but those are long forgotten. If you have a few minutes, let me tell you what a good man he was to me.”
The chaplain leaned forward in his chair.
“He wasn’t a gentle man, but he took care of me just like he was my father. There were some hard times during the Depression, and he saw to it that I never lacked for anything. Since I’ve been here I’ve tried to tell him in letters how much I appreciated that, but I was hoping to see him again.”
Chaplain Barnes patted Jason’s good knee. “You will, son. You will. Christians never say good-bye!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Return of the Warrior
Alona put her hat on but was so nervous that it slipped off and fell to the floor. Quickly she bent over, picked it up, and fastened it with a hatpin. She heard the boys talking in Carl’s room, and taking one more quick look at herself in her dresser mirror, she went to his room. The three boys were talking excitedly, and as usual, Zac’s voice rose above the other two.
“Everybody in town is gonna be at the station to meet Jason, Mom!”
“That’s right,” Carl said, his eyes shining. “The high school band’s gonna be there and the mayor.”
“Hey, Mom,” Tim put in, “I heard there’s going to be a reporter and a photographer from Atlanta. Maybe Jason will get on the cover of Life magazine.”
“Come on, Mom, we’re going to be late!” Zac said.
“All right. I’m ready.”
The group went downstairs, and Leah was waiting at the door. “I’ve got his room all ready.” Alona could see that the woman was nervous and she looked worried. “I wasn’t very kind to Jason when he was here. I hope he won’t hold it against me.”
Alona reached out and embraced the woman. “He won’t,” she said cheerfully. “He’s not that kind of man.”
“Let’s go, Mom,” Carl said as he opened the door.
The group went out and piled into the car. “When we come back, I get to ride in the front with Jason,” Zac announced.
“No you don’t. I’m the oldest. I do!” Tim said.
“You boys hush. You all three are going to ride in the back. Jason’s leg is still stiff. He needs the extra room.” She backed the car out and drove toward the train station. What will he be like? she wondered. She could not forget that he had told her he loved her the last time she saw him. He’s probably forgotten all that, she thought and pressed the accelerator.
****
Old memories came rushing back to Jason as he peered out the window at the familiar scene. He had thought about this town so often, and now as he passed by the football stadium where he had thrown many a forward pass, he shifted to see better but then winced as his leg protested.
“Say, Jason, we’re glad to have you back again.” Sam Freeman, the conductor, had paused by Jason’s seat, swaying with the movement of the train. Jason could hardly believe it when he got on the train earlier and saw someone he knew from the First Baptist Church. “I guess you’re gonna get tired of hearing it, but I can’t help telling you before we get into town how proud I am of you, Jason.”
“Thanks, Sam, but the men we need to be proud of are those who didn’t make it back.”
“Of course that’s true, but still you did a great job.” He hesitated and then said, “I’m real sorry about Oscar.”
“Yes. I wish I could have made it home before he was taken.”
“You know he changed a lot after his heart attack. Everybody talked about it. People who went to visit him said he talked about you a lot, son. Said he was so sorry he wasn’t a good father to you.”
“Well, he was a good father and a good man. I’ll miss him.” Freeman bent down to look out the window. “Almost to the station.” He stood up and tilted his head. “You know it’s real strange. You was the one gettin’ shot at, but it was Oscar that the Lord saw fit to take.”
“You never know about those things.”
He bent down to look out the window again. “My land, I believe everybody in town’s there! Look at all the banners and streamers. And there’s Miss Alona. You know she took over the music program at church.” He smiled and added, “I guess you two will be making music again like the old times.”
Jason was humbled by the size of the crowd but his focus kept returning to Alona. When the train jerked to a stop, Jason got to his feet. Sam handed him his crutches and followed him as he swung down the aisle.
“Wait a minute. Let me go first. I’ll help you down.” Sam jumped down and the porter was already there with the portable step.
“You be careful gettin’ down, Lieutenant,” the porter told him over the cheering of the crowd and the blaring of the band. He grinned broadly, his white teeth flashing.
“I will,” Jason yelled. “I’d hate to break my neck just when I finally got home.”
“They shouldn’t be making such a fuss,” he said to Sam.
“Of course they should. You’re a war hero. Now, boy, you’ve got to show ’em you’re glad to see ’em.”
Jason did manage to smile. He made his way to the spot where the mayor stood with Alona and the boys. Suddenly a bright light flashed in his face and a photographer shouted, “What was it like? Give our readers something, Lieutenant.”
The mayor, a giant of a man, seized the reporter by the upper arms and moved him and the photographer out of the way. “You fellows will have your chance later. Right now, this celebration is for us hometown folks.”
He reached for Jason’s hand and shook it firmly. “Welcome home, Jason.”
“Thank you, Mayor.”
As soon as Jason released the mayor’s hand, Carl ran forward, crying, “Jason—Jason!” He nearly knocked Jason off of his crutches, and then the other two boys were there as well, hanging on to him. Jason dropped one of his crutches and put his arms around them. “It’s so good to see you fellows,” he said, his eyes misty.
“Welcome home, Jason,” Alona said over Carl’s head.
She’s as beautiful as ever, he thought, and he saw that she was weeping. He put his free hand out and she latched onto it, but he couldn’t say a word. He had been looking forward to this moment for many weeks now. Her hand was warm and strong in his, and he wished they were alone on the platform.
“Lieutenant, would you care to say a word to the towns-people?” the mayor asked. He held up his hand and caught the band conductor’s eye. The band stopped, and Jason turned, releasing Alona’s hand.
His heart was full and his throat was thick, but he managed to say, “I’m so thankful to be here. I’ve thought about you all so much. This town and you good people, my fellow church members, my friends, and my family are what kept me going. I know many of you prayed for me. I thank you for your prayers, and I urge you to keep praying for the men and women who are still in harm’s way.”
Jason couldn’t wait to get out of the crowd and have a moment alone with Alona, but instead he shook many hands and spoke to the reporter and had his picture taken with the mayor. Finally he grew weary, and the mayor said, “That’s enough for today. You take him home, Miss
Alona.”
She was at his side at once. The boys gathered around him, forming a half-circle. “Yes,” Jason said, “take me home, Alona.”
****
Jason’s first week at home flew by quickly, as the boys and everyone else he knew wanted to have some time to get reacquainted and hear about his first-hand experiences in the war. But there was an uncomfortable awkwardness when he was alone with Alona. They’d had many private conversations, catching up on all that had happened, including Oscar’s last months and Jason’s experiences in the war.
Early in the week she had shown him the will, explaining that Oscar had designated enough funds to cover college expenses for all three boys and had left the house, the foundry, and most of his other assets to both Jason and her.
“He shouldn’t have done that!”
“It’s what he wanted. He had it all planned out. If you like, we can sell the foundry. I know you’ve always hated it.”
They had agreed to talk about it later, and as the days passed, Jason felt even more awkward and ill at ease around Alona. The boys were unchanged, but Alona seemed reserved and uncomfortable, and he felt the same way.
On a Monday morning when he was sitting in the backyard enjoying the perfect day, Alona came outside, holding an envelope. “I have something for you.”
He took it and read, “ ‘For my beloved brother, Jason—when he comes home.’ You haven’t read this?”
“No. I wanted to wait and give it to you after all the other business was settled. It was the last thing he wrote . . . on the day he died.” She told him exactly what had happened that day. “When I came back with his lunch he was gone, but he had managed to write this letter. It was sealed. So it will be your last word from him on this earth.”
Alona watched as Jason opened the envelope. He took out the sheet of paper and read it. And then he appeared to reread it another time or two, nodding as he read. He folded it, put it back in the envelope, and then stuffed it into his pocket, making no comment.
****
As the weeks passed and winter approached, Alona and Jason spent evenings talking in the parlor. On this particular night, they sat by a crackling fire, sipping on some hot chocolate after the boys had gone to bed.
“It’s almost Christmastime,” Alona said. “What do you want?”
He smiled. “I guess I got what I wanted. To get home. But if you want to get me a present, you could always get me a pair of socks.”
“If it wouldn’t be too much bother, I’d like you to go shopping for the boys with me.”
“Sure, I’m hobbling around pretty well with a cane now.”
“You still mustn’t rush, Jason. You were very badly hurt.”
“When would you like to go?”
“Maybe in a couple of days.”
****
The first snow fell the day before Christmas, and the boys were busy building a snowman. Buddy was barking and rolling in the snow and digging at it, and Jason was watching from off to the side, leaning on his cane. “That’s the ugliest snowman I ever saw,” he declared.
“Aw, Jason, it’s hard to build a pretty snowman,” Tim protested.
“Snowmen aren’t supposed to be pretty. They’re supposed to be big and round,” Carl said as he patted some more snow onto the snowman’s belly.
Zac had grown tired of the snowman and was shuffling through the yard, making tracks in the snow. He bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. After shaping it into a ball, he sent it flying through the air. It caught Tim right on the ear.
“Hey, who did that? I’ll get you for that!”
Immediately snowballs began flying in all directions. Jason packed one and threw it at Zac. It missed, and then at the same time he heard Alona, who had come out of the house. “You’re doing too much, Jason! Don’t be foolish!”
“Oh, come on, Alona. It’s only a snowball fight.”
“You come in the house right now. Boys, you stop that.”
There were protests, but she said, “You can build snowmen all you want to, but I don’t want you throwing those icy snowballs. Somebody’s going to get hurt. Now, Jason, you come in the house. You’re putting too much pressure on your leg.”
“You sound like a top sergeant,” Jason said, but he was grinning. They went into the house and she hung up his coat and hat. They went into the parlor, and Jason stood in front of the crackling fire, warming his hands.
“After the boys go to bed tonight, I’m going to get the gifts out that we bought for them,” she told him.
“Good. I’ll help you wrap them.”
“You can watch,” she said firmly.
“You’re treating me like an invalid.”
Alona laughed. “Well, that’s what you are, for heaven’s sake!”
Jason sank down into the couch with a satisfied sigh. “It’s been good to be home.”
Alona sat on the opposite end of the couch. “And it’s been good to have you here, Jason.”
“I thought about you all the time I was gone—and the boys too.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Although they had been alone a number of times since he’d returned from the war, he hadn’t opened up to her about whether his feelings had changed. She couldn’t assume that he still loved her. When the silence in the room started to feel uncomfortable, she made an excuse about checking on the boys and quickly left the room.
****
Alona put two more logs on the fire, and it was now burning brightly. After she was sure the boys were asleep, she had gotten the presents out and wrapped them. Now they were all under the tree, and she and Jason were sitting in silence, enjoying the setting.
Alona didn’t think she could bear the tension between them for one more minute, so she took a deep breath and said, “I’ve got to tell you something, Jason.”
“What is it?”
“I did the wrong thing to marry Oscar. I didn’t make him happy.”
“Don’t ever think that. You know the letter I got from him—the last one?”
“Yes. You never told me what was in it.”
“You can read it now. Just give me a minute to get it.”
She waited while he went downstairs to his room and returned with the letter in hand. He gave it to her and sat down next to her on the couch. She unfolded the letter, her hands not quite steady, and read it silently.
Dear Jason,
I will not be here when you get back, but I want to ask you to do me one last favor. You and I have grown closer together than we ever have been, thanks to the mail. I feel like we are true brothers at last. But I am ready to go and be with the Lord. Instead of getting stronger with every passing day, I’m getting weaker. I know that my time here is short.
Jason, I beg you to take care of Alona and the boys. It’s my last request. Our marriage was not right, but she made me happy during these last months. She’s the finest woman I’ve ever known. If you two could ever learn to love each other and care for each other, I can think of nothing that would make me happier. And the boys couldn’t do better than having parents like you two. I am very tired now. God bless you, dear brother.
Oscar
She lowered the letter and brushed the tears from her eyes. “He changed so much in his last few months. I wish you could have been here.”
“Alona, do you remember the last thing I said to you before I left to go to back into the service?”
Her throat was thick. “Yes,” she whispered, “I remember.”
He reached forward and took her in his arms. She looked up at him and knew that he was going to kiss her. When she did not protest, he put his lips against hers. After a nice gentle kiss, and then another one, he drew back. His voice was husky as he said, “My feelings haven’t changed, Alona. I still love you. I want to be with you forever. I want to do what Oscar said, to take care of you and the boys.”
She put her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly. All tension was gone from the room, and she was filled with joy. “Whe
n do you think you can start taking care of us?” she asked, a huge smile on her face.
He laughed. “Why don’t you just learn to come out and say what you mean, Alona? I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow morning, after the boys have opened all their presents from under the tree, you can say, ‘I have one more present for you.’“ He laughed then and squeezed her. “Then you can say, ‘Here it is. Your new dad . . . ta=-daaa!’ ”
Alona found herself laughing, but she stopped when a thought came to her. “Do you think it’s too soon . . . I mean, after losing Oscar?”
“I’ve lost too much time, Alona. I want to marry you as soon as I can and start taking care of you and the boys right away.”
“I’ve lost too much time too. So the boys get a new dad—and I get a new husband for Christmas.”
GILBERT MORRIS spent ten years as a pastor before becoming Professor of English at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkansas and earning a Ph.D. at the University of Arkansas. A prolific writer, he has had over 25 scholarly articles and 200 poems published in various periodicals and over the past years has had more than 180 novels published. His family includes three grown children, and he and his wife live in Gulf Shores, Alabama.
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