Today We Go Home

by Kelli Estes

  She had to look away to collect her thoughts. The letters. “As I mentioned to you on the phone a few weeks ago, I have Sarah’s belongings. She left them to me when she died, and I’ve been going through the boxes of things she put into storage when she deployed.”

  “Yes, you said you have some photographs. Did you bring them?”

  Larkin nodded. “We’ll get to those.” She drew the stack of letters from her bag. “I could’ve mailed the photos to you, but then I found these letters, and to be frank, I want to see your face as you read them.” She shoved them into his hands and felt as if she were handing him a live grenade.

  Confusion pinched his face as he saw his name on the top envelope, and then the dozen envelopes under that one. With a questioning look toward Larkin, he opened the top one and read it silently. It was the one Larkin had read. She’d never looked at the others because it felt like an invasion of Sarah’s privacy, but she imagined they were all a version of that first one.

  Larkin sipped her water and carefully watched him as he read. Her training had prepared her for this moment perfectly, she realized as she caught a flash of emotion cross Zach’s face. His micro expressions, the way his shoulders stiffened, the nervous tapping of the foot he draped across the opposite knee. All of it conveyed the truth of how he was feeling, and Larkin saw it all. The man was in pain. He felt guilt. He felt sorrow. He felt shame.

  Zach did not look Larkin’s way the entire time he read through all thirteen letters. And when he was done, he kept his gaze down as he folded the last paper and slipped it back into the envelope.

  Larkin decided to go for the jugular while he was feeling vulnerable. “Why did you abandon her?”

  His reaction surprised her. Instead of getting angry or making excuses, he dropped his face into his hands and sobbed.

  Tears filled her own eyes, and she had to clench her teeth together to hold them in check. She couldn’t back down now. “So what if your parents treated her like shit. That didn’t mean you had to do it, too.” She took a breath and let it out slowly. With her voice calm, she went on. “She talked about you often. She followed your social media pages and kept tabs on where you were, what you were doing, but she was too afraid to actually contact you. She couldn’t take being rejected again.”

  Zach rose to his feet and stalked to the windows, his back to her. The dog watched him and whined.

  Larkin didn’t say any more. She’d made her point.

  Just as she was thinking of letting herself out, he started talking, quietly at first. “I was a stupid kid when our parents split. Sixteen, thinking more about girls and sports than anything else. I knew Sarah was hurt when I chose to live with Dad and she wasn’t given a choice, but I told myself she’d be okay. I thought a girl needed to be with her mother. I had no idea Mom would start drinking.”

  He turned, his hands in his jeans pockets. “Mom never forgave me for going with Dad. She hung up when I called, and she refused to let me in the house when I stopped by. Eventually I gave up trying.”

  “I don’t think Sarah knew that.”

  He looked at the tile floor and chewed on his bottom lip. “I knew she went across the country for college and then joined the Army. I should have contacted her when she was free of our mother’s clutches, but I thought it was too late. I didn’t think she’d even remember me since she was only six the last time I saw her.”

  Larkin could see his pain. It was etched on his face, dragged down his body, and was coming at her in waves. No one could fake this.

  Suddenly she wasn’t angry any more, but her heart felt so heavy it was pulling down on her throat and making it hard to speak. “I, uh…” She took a deep breath and started over. “Want to see the pictures?” She drew them from her bag and handed them to him.

  Zach returned to the couch and looked at the top picture, the one of the two of them as kids with their arms looped around each other. He bit his bottom lip. “She was such a cute kid. A pain in the ass sometimes, but I could never be mad at her.” He went to the next photo and laughed when he saw it. “I remember this day! I saved for years to buy this car, and when I brought it home that afternoon, Sarah insisted on being the first person to go for a ride. She was so small she couldn’t even see out the windshield, but she made me put the top down and turn up the stereo.” He fell quiet but kept staring at the photo for several more minutes as though lost in the memory.

  As he flipped through the rest of the photos, Larkin told him about their time at Norwich University together, about Sarah’s various stations and deployments, and their vacations all around the world.

  “Did she have a boyfriend?” Zach wondered.

  “She had boyfriends off and on, but no one that stuck. It’s difficult to maintain relationships when you’re moving so often.”

  He set the stack on the coffee table next to his laptop. “Thank you so much for these. Seeing them makes me happy, and yet they break my heart at the same time.” He blew out a heavy sigh. “I missed so much, and now it’s too late.”

  Larkin watched him swallow and turn his head to look out the window, pain etched on his face.

  “Do you want to see her? Her ashes?”

  He looked unsure, but he nodded in agreement so Larkin went out to the car to collect the urn from the front passenger seat. Back inside the house, she handed the Himalayan salt urn to Zach as carefully as she would an infant.

  He took it and held it to his chest, tears pouring down his cheeks. To Larkin, it looked like he was hugging his sister, and in that moment, she knew Sarah was actually here, in his arms. The pressure of her own tears grew to be too much, and she covered her mouth with her hands as tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks.

  After what might have been an hour or only a couple of minutes, Zach looked at Larkin with red-rimmed eyes. “Thank you.” His voice was raw.

  She nodded but could not speak around the clog of emotion in her throat. After swallowing several times and taking a deep, cleansing breath, she finally managed, “She asked that I scatter her ashes on a California beach and then leave the urn to dissolve in the ocean. She cared about the environment and didn’t want to leave anything behind.”

  He smiled. “I like that about her.”

  She smiled back. “Yeah, me too.” An idea came to her that felt so right, she was surprised she hadn’t thought of it sooner. “I haven’t been able to say goodbye to her yet, but maybe we can do it together?”

  His arms tightened around the urn. “Do you mean…scatter her ashes today?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I think she would like that. I know I’d like your company.”

  Tears filled his eyes again, but they did not fall. He nodded. “Yes. I’d like that.”

  * * *

  Zach took her to a beach over an hour away where he, Sarah, and their parents had had a family picnic years ago, before their family had fallen apart. He told Larkin about throwing rocks in the ocean and how, even then, Sarah had a strong arm. “She made me explore the entire beach that day, and we stayed until the sun had gone down. It was our last perfect day together.”

  Larkin looked around. It was a small beach, rocky and gritty, but the closer to the water she went, the smoother the sand became until it was powder fine. The Pacific Ocean spread out blue and expansive in front of her. On the horizon, a bank of clouds was already tinted pink from the setting sun. “This is perfect, Zach.”

  A cold wind blew off the water and kept everyone else away. Larkin was grateful for that small blessing. The moment was a private one.

  She carried Sarah’s urn to the water, ignoring a wave that splashed over her bare feet. She took another couple steps forward, and the next wave hit her knees. The cold felt good. It reminded her she was alive. Sarah would never feel the cold of the ocean again, nor see the breathtaking moment when the sun dipped into the water and left a streak of golden light straight to
the shore.

  She held Sarah’s urn to her chest and reached for Zach’s hand. It felt natural to hold on to him and she closed her eyes, focusing on the warmth coming from Zach and wishing with everything in her that she could give that gift to Sarah.

  She turned her attention to the weight of the urn nestled against her chest, knowing it would be the last moment she would have a physical connection with the best friend she’d ever had in her life.

  But it wasn’t Sarah any longer. Sarah was gone. “I miss you so much,” she whispered aloud. In her mind, she added, I’ll watch over Zach for you, okay? He misses you, too.

  “Are you ready?” Zach asked gently.

  She opened her eyes and nodded. She was ready.

  She carefully pulled off the pink salt lid and looked for the last time at the remains of her friend. “Should we pour it out together?”

  “I’d like that.” Zach’s hands joined hers on the urn and together they tilted it sideways until the gray ashes started falling to the water.

  The breeze picked up some of the ashes and swirled them into their faces. Before Larkin knew what was happening, she’d inhaled the ashes and started coughing.

  Zach was coughing, too, and they both looked at each other and burst out laughing. “I guess she’ll always be a part of us, now, huh?” he said with a smile.

  “At least a part of our lungs.” She smiled, too.

  With her heart a little lighter, Larkin turned back to the task at hand, and they poured out the final bits of remains and watched them swirl and sink into the water. When it was done, Larkin placed the lid back on the top and carefully set the urn on the surface of the water. It floated for a short moment before sinking.

  As they turned to walk back to dry beach, Larkin again took Zach’s hand. “I’m glad you were here for this. I think she’s happy about it, too.”

  He squeezed her hand but said nothing.

  They settled onto the sand and wrapped a blanket around them that Zach had brought from his car. The waves came in and washed back out, and with each one, they knew Sarah was being carried farther into the ocean.

  They stayed there, watching the waves, until the stars came out and the ocean grew black.

  On the drive home, they took a short detour and had dinner in Sausalito at a restaurant right on the water. They talked mostly about Sarah, but eventually the conversation turned to their own lives. Larkin asked Zach about his work as a program manager at a tech company and if he’d ever been married. He had, but said they’d both been too young and it hadn’t worked out. They were still friends. He asked her about growing up in Washington and her Army career. Although he asked, she wasn’t ready to talk about the bombing. She’d have to tell him someday that she was to blame for Sarah’s death, but not today.

  “Look, about the diary,” she said as they walked back to his car. “I’d understand if you want to keep it in your family. Just please let me finish reading it. I’m trying to find descendants of Willie’s siblings. I think they’d like to have the handkerchief and ring, don’t you?”

  “Yes, probably, and that’s kind of you,” he answered. “But I think you should keep the diary. I think you are the only person I know who could appreciate it as much as Sarah did, and she obviously knew that. Keep it in her honor and pass it down to your own children someday.”

  Larkin smiled at that. “Any daughters I have will want to be soldiers for sure after hearing about Sarah and reading about Emily and Willie. I think those three women would be quite proud of that legacy, don’t you?”

  He smiled and opened the car door for her. “I definitely do.”

  That night, Larkin stayed in a hotel in Walnut Creek, but sleep eluded her. She’d done it. She’d finally said goodbye to Sarah and scattered her ashes. But, she knew, Sarah was still with her. She’d always be with her.

  As she lay there staring at the popcorn ceiling of the hotel room, Larkin’s thoughts turned to Emily. In the last diary entry she’d read, Emily had been in the Confederate prison after Willie’s death. She hadn’t been given the chance to bury her friend. At least Larkin knew where Sarah’s remains were. She’d cared for them herself for months, and tonight she’d released them to the ocean. All Emily had was the memory of leaving her friend’s body on the battlefield. Had someone buried her? Had she been left to rot until she was unrecognizable? Had anyone prayed over her grave?

  Those questions did not have any answers, she knew. But she could find out what happened next to Emily.

  Larkin pulled the diary from her bag and read late into the night.

  May 19, 1862: This prison is being decommissioned, and we are to be sent north and exchanged for Confederate soldiers in Union prisons. Finally, I can find Ben!

  As I sit on this train on my way to freedom, I think of the souls who have never known freedom, and I am determined to see the end of the institution of slavery. Colored people experience so much that a white person will never truly understand. We need to listen harder, see more.

  I am grateful to George Harris of the 8th New York Cavalry for nursing me back to health, though I hope today is the last I see of him. He has secrets, though I know not what they are. So many of these men hide a part of themselves away. Maybe it’s what we have to do to survive war. No matter what the secret part is, it is all ours. It is all we have control over.

  I am tired, but I am ready to do whatever I must to find Ben.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  May 19, 1862: Confederate Prison, Tuscaloosa, Alabama

  “When I read your name,” called the guard to the prisoners standing at attention, “you are to receive your papers and fall into line for the march to the railroad depot.” They’d been woken with the news that they were being sent north. Loud cheers echoed through the warehouse, and now, two hours later, the tone of the room still felt jubilant. “Gordon, Jones, O’Neil,” read the guard from the list in front of him, “Spencer…”

  Emily stood at attention and waited for her name to be called. She could hardly believe her luck. She’d been locked in this stuffy, stinky building for over five weeks now—one of the men had been counting the days with hash marks on the wall—and had felt like she’d never see freedom again. Never see Ben again. As each day crawled closer to summer, the temperature in the building climbed, the stench of bodies with it, and many men had taken to going shirtless in the afternoons. Emily, obviously, did not have that option and worried that these close quarters were going to lead to the discovery of her secret.

  The guard flipped a page over and read the next list of names. Emily cast a glance over her shoulder to George. Ever since the day Emily started suspecting George was part African, he had kept his distance from her, as though he’d known he’d made a mistake in speaking so freely. George’s expression did not change as he met Emily’s gaze. His eyes shifted forward again.

  Emily turned forward herself, relieved that after today she might never see him again. He would no longer hold the power of her secret over her.

  When her name was finally called, Emily made her way to the open door, where she collected her papers and took her place in another line waiting to march away from this dismal place. A quick pat reassured her the diary was safely in place in her bindings, the handkerchief and ring in its secret compartment. Amazingly, even her inkpot had survived all she’d been through and rested in her pocket.

  “Do you think they’ll let us go home?” asked the boy in front of her.

  Emily shook her head. “They’re sending us to the custody of the Federal Army. I’m sure we’ll be returned to our regiments.”

  “Oh.” The poor boy’s face crumbled and he turned back around, but not before Emily saw his bottom lip tremble.

  “Although I could be wrong,” she added, hoping to cheer him. “Especially if you have an injury or are unfit for service.”

  She saw his shoulders straighte
n at that and knew she’d raised his spirits.

  The jovial mood of the men continued all through the march to the railroad depot and the long ride north. Emily kept to herself and managed to write in her diary more than she’d dared while at the prison. For the rest of her time on the long train ride, which took all day, she alternated between dozing and staring out the window, watching the landscape pass by.

  Several buildings near the tracks had been burned, and evidence remained of a skirmish. At one point, she thought she saw an Army encampment through the trees, but she could not determine if it was Union or Confederate. The farther north they went, the easier she breathed.

  The sun sat on the horizon when they pulled into Nashville, and the Federal troops on board the train cheered upon seeing the United States flag flying at the station. They were free and back in the arms of their country. Now, finally, she could send a message to Ben.

  “Welcome home, boys!” called the Union officer who greeted them on the platform as they stepped off the train. “It’s good to have you back.”

  They were herded into formation and sent marching a good distance down the road to a camp outside of town, where they were to be quartered until processed back into their units or sent home. As Emily marched, she could not help casting a glance up the hill to the capitol building where she’d been stationed last time she was in this city. It felt like a lifetime ago since she’d been here, although it had only been two months. Only two months ago she’d been happy with Ben and Willie at her side, all of them certain they were going to beat the Rebs and then start a new life together in Nebraska.

  She turned away from the white building and fastened her eyes firmly on the soldier in front of her so she would not see anything else that would remind her of what she’d lost. Come find me, Ben. I need you. She said the words like a prayer in her mind as her heart ached. Where are you?