“K.” I nod before she walks to the kitchen and disappears behind the fridge door. My eyes move to the TV. More footage from earlier this morning of the Twin Towers is still on the screen. People are running around, covered in ash, and helping others off the street or moving them into buildings. There are piles of metal where the buildings once stood. Firemen and police officers go back and forth from the pile. Some people are crying while others stand with their mouths open in shock. A sludgy feeling moves in my stomach.
“Here you go, Colt,” Mom says and lays a plate on the table for me. I sit in my chair and eat the cheese stick and grapes while I take out my football cards. The phone rings and my mom answers. I hear her talking about the news. By the time my snack is gone, my dad comes home.
He’s dressed in his mechanic suit and still covered in grease. The creases around his mouth are prominent, like he’s been frowning all day. He doesn’t speak as he walks past me to their bedroom in the back of the house. I hear the shower turn on like usual. My dad isn’t the overly affectionate type, but it’s rare for him to walk past me without commenting on my card collection or ruffling my hair; he must not be feeling the best today.
“I’m about to start dinner, Colt,” Mom says, turning to hang up the phone. “Why don’t you go outside and play.”
I nod and jump off my chair. Grabbing my football, I run out the door. I hope Alex comes home soon. I hope he’ll throw the pigskin, as he calls it, before we have to go inside and wash our hands. I pretend to throw lobs and run-in touchdowns until my mom calls me in. I couldn’t tell you how much time has passed, only that the sky is turning pink and orange and the street lights across from our house have popped on.
I make sure to take my shoes off at the door, so I don’t get yelled at and I leave my football on the bench. When I pass through the living room to wash my hands, I notice my dad sitting in his recliner with a drink in his hand. He looks tired. His eyes are drawn together while he stares at the screen. They still have the news on. Now they’re showing pictures of people they are calling ‘hijackers.’ I don’t know what it means exactly. They look like normal people I’d see at the grocery store.
“Four planes,” I hear my dad say to my mom over the sound of the running water.
With my hands washed, I feel it’s safe to head to the kitchen. Mom sits at the table and motions for me to join her. She gives me a small smile, but I can see the tension in her features. Her eyes dart to where my dad is sitting. “Eat your carrots, Colt,” she mummers.
“Where’s Alex?” I ask, taking a bite of the orange vegetable like she asked me to.
“I’m not sure,” she answers, scooping herself some chicken before putting some on my plate. “Hey Wes,” she calls to my father, “have you heard from Alex?”
He doesn’t answer and her lips mash together. “He usually is done with class by now. He didn’t call this afternoon though,” she says. I don’t know if she’s telling me or my dad. We eat our dinner in mostly silence. The only sound is the ice cubes in my dad’s tumbler, clinking the glass every now and then. The room feels tense, something I’m not at all familiar with.
After dinner, I help Mom clear the table and put aside a plate for Alex. My brother is tall. Maybe not professional athlete tall, but he’s big. He and his friends lifted weights all through high school. Alex claimed it helped with his batting for baseball. It must have too because he was good. His team won state one year even. It’s unlike him to miss a meal. Chicken and potatoes are his favorites, so I make sure to make his plate extra full, before putting tin foil on top and setting it in the fridge.
Headlights flash in our front window and I smile. “Oh thank goodness,” Mom mutters under her breath. She must have been really worried.
Alex and his friends Jesse, Russ, and Shawn come barreling in the door, laughing and whooping loudly. Dad stands from his chair slowly, taking them in. My eyes zone in on the shirt my brother is wearing. The Marine Corps EGA is front and center. I’ve seen it before on my dad’s old baseball hat that he keeps on his dresser. Alex’s face is flushed and his brown eyes are bright with excitement.
“What’s going on, Al?” Mom’s voice carries over the ruckus they’re causing.
He pauses and faces my mom with his legs apart and hands behind his back. Parade rest, how dad has made us stand many times before. Dad goes still. Jesse, my brother’s best friend since grade school, steps up, throwing an arm around my brother. “We joined up!” Alex announces, his blond head thrown back, while his hands are cupped around his mouth.
My head swings from my brother and his friends, who are elbowing each other and laughing about getting revenge for the terrorist attacks, to my parents who are both starting to look scary. My mom’s face is pale and her eyes are wide while she watches the guys. My dad’s face is red and the vein in his temple looks like it might explode.
“Dad,” Alex speaks, “say something. I thought you’d be proud I’m following in your footsteps, old man.”
My eyes swing back to Alex. “What does ‘joining up’ mean?”
“It means, little dude,” he says bending down to my level, “I’m a Marine now like Dad was and I’m going to go kick some ass overseas.”
“That’s a bad word,” I tell him, shaking my head. He laughs and his hand shoots up to ruffle my hair. Before I can blink, I’m lifted in the air and swung on his back. The guys howl and start trading barbs again before Alex turns back to my parents.
“Seriously guys,” he laughs, “What’s up?”
“Alex,” my mom breathes out and a whole new wave of tears slide down her cheeks.
I slide from Alex’s back and he walks over to her. “Mom, everything’s going to be okay.” He tells her smiling, “I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Today was the kick-start I needed. When Russ called this morning to tell me about the towers, I turned on the news right away. I’ve never felt so angry and emotional about anything. I can’t not do something. The guys felt the same way. We drove to the recruiting station and started the process.”
“So you aren’t fully in yet?” my dad asks.
“Just have to wait for some testing,” Alex nods, smiling.
“Then you can back out,” my dad replies, turning to my brother.
Alex’s face falls. “Dad, I’m not backing out. Did you see what happened? Thousands of people lost their lives today. Is that not something I should care about? You were a Marine, I thought you’d get it.”
“This isn’t just joining up to hang out and play games, Alex.” My dad’s voice rises. “What happened today means war for the United States. You think our president will just let this go unpunished? You just signed up for war, boys!”
Alex steps away from our parents, his arm sliding around my shoulders. “I know. You think I didn’t know that when I walked in there today? I’m prepared for that.”
“Alexander.” Mom starts crying into her hands. Dad steps next to her and wraps his arm around her. I grimace because she used his full name.
“Do you boys actually think you’re ready for this?” Dad’s voice is exhausted, his face drawn. Mom’s breath hitches in her throat.
“We do, Sir,” Jesse answers, his voice full of conviction. I peer up at their faces and see nothing but determination. Their bodies are radiating with suppressed energy and a fierceness I can’t understand. I knew what happened today was not okay. I understood that people were hurt and that everyone was mad or sad.
My gaze shifts to my brother, my protector and my whole world. I want to be just like him. He’s the coolest person I know. I don’t want him to leave, but I can see how excited he is. Even though I’m going to miss him, his excitement is contagious. I smile with them, not against them. My brother’s going to be a soldier. A hero. A warrior.
Chapter One
Colt
Age 10
I race my bike down the driveway, pumping my legs until my calf muscles burn, determined to hit that jump higher than Zane. The minute
my tire hits the board, I feel a second of panic and know there is no way out of this now. I force my eyes to stay open and focus on what is ahead of me. I feel my body go airborne, and my heart swoops into my stomach.
“Show off!” I hear Zane yell from behind me and a smile tugs at my lips. I land perfectly on the ramp as my handlebars jar under my palms. Laughing, I turn back around to face him.
“Want to go again?” My brow rises. My adrenaline is pumping overtime and I can’t help that my words sound a bit winded.
Zane shakes his shaggy blond hair from his eyes. “Nah, man, I got to head home. My mom and dad are going out tonight. I have to be home for the babysitter.”
“Eww.” I scrunch my nose just thinking about it.
“Hey, who’s that?” He nods his head to someone behind me. I turn around just as a huge orange moving truck pulls up to the curb, with a van full of people behind it. They must be excited because their voices can be heard from outside the vehicle.
“No idea,” I answer my friend, shrugging. A flash of heat sears the back of my neck, and my hand instantly rises to soothe it. My head turns back toward the van where a man, woman, and three kids, two girls and a boy, are now standing and looking at the house. I eye each of them and determine they must be the new family my mom said would be moving in this weekend. One of the girls and the boy look younger than I am. The boy has a blanket clutched in his fist even. The other girl, though, looks like she could be my age. I watch her for longer than I mean to. She’s dressed in a pair of jean overalls and a red tank top. Her long brown hair falls to the middle of her back and is in one of those fancy braids my mom is always trying to do with her hair. A French braid, I think she calls it.
“Must be new,” I hear Zane mutter next to me, bringing my attention back to him and off the new family.
“Guess so,” I reply and nod for him to help me bring the plywood into our shed, so I don’t get in trouble for leaving it in the driveway again. Last time Dad threatened to whip my butt, and at ten years old, I do not want to be getting a spanking anymore.
“Are you guys still heading to Motley tomorrow?” Zane asks. I nod in response, while leaning my bike against the outside of the shed.
“Yeah, Mom is really excited to see the baby again.” I lift my shoulders, not really understanding her adoration for Alex’s son. He’s two weeks old now and all he did the last time I saw him was cry, poop, and sleep. He’s cute with a full head of hair like his mom’s but that’s about it.
When Alex left for boot camp, his girlfriend, Caitlyn, cried every day, and became a permanent fixture at our home for the first thirteen weeks he was gone. When he got back, he found out he would be stationed at Camp Pendleton in California. Caitlyn cried again and they left the house to talk. For almost three hours, my parents were in and out of the house, acting nervous and giving each other weird looks. Alex and Caitlyn came back and announced they were engaged and were going to wait to have the wedding until after Alex was home. Caitlyn was in college and wanted to finish school as well. My parents seemed relieved the rest of the night and I was told that Caitlyn was going to be my sister.
Two years later, Alex finally came home for the first time between his deployments. He’d been to Afghanistan and was going to be heading to Iraq. He and Caitlyn had a huge fight while he was home. Everyone kept saying Alex was different, but I didn’t see it. He wouldn’t listen to his music very loud anymore, said his ears were sensitive, but that was it. He spent more time with me than anyone else, so I wasn’t complaining. We played catch most nights and he taught me how to build the jumps for my bike so that I could get the most air. It was harder when he left after that time. I miss Alex. I miss hanging out with him and listening to him and the guys talk. Even though I never know what they’re talking about. Since they all enlisted, I haven’t seen them around either. Jesse stopped by one year at Christmas to drop off gifts but that was it.
Even though Alex and Caitlyn had been fighting, they still were together and going forward with planning their wedding. Almost a year ago, Caitlyn came to our home with a gift for my parents. She and Alex surprised them with t-shirts that announced they were going to be grandparents. My mom was happy and cried non-stop while hugging Caitlyn. My dad just patted her shoulder. Now I have a nephew named after my brother. I call him AJ for short, so it’s easier not to get mixed up. Caitlyn and AJ live in a small town called Motley, not too far from where we are. She moved in with her parents, so they could help care for AJ while she finishes school.
“Is it weird being an uncle when you’re ten?” Zane asks, smirking. “My uncles are all old. I think my mom said Uncle Dan was thirty.”
My shoulders lift again. “I don’t know. As long as I can teach him to play football someday, it’s fine.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Zane agrees with me. We walk back out to my driveway before he hops on his bike and peddles off down the road.
I take a few deep breaths. It’s fall and the leaves are scattering all over the ground. I love this time of year, though. Football season is always my favorite. Dad and I watch Sunday Night Football every weekend. Since Alex left, it’s become our tradition.
I peek at our new neighbors again. This time, the girl is riding her bike in circles in her driveway, a huge smile plastered on her face. The younger girl is trailing behind her and shrieking with laughter. I fight a smile that is threatening to tug at my lips, watching them. I notice her bike is turquois and glittery with band stickers covering the frame.
My feet start to move toward the house. I have a crazy idea to say hi and introduce myself. We live in a small town and I’m eventually going to see her at school anyway. My body stops abruptly when a black town car pulls up in front of the house. The windows are tinted black and I can’t see who’s inside. My feet shuffle back instinctively. The collar on my faded baseball t-shirt feels too tight.
Two guys dressed in their Marine blues step out and walk around the front of the car. I instantly recognize Jesse, Alex’s best friend. The minute our gazes meet, I see the tears swimming in his eyes. He looks to the other guy, nodding, before getting down on one knee in front of me, so we’re eye level.
“Hey, Colt,” he says, his voice scratchy.
“What’s going on?” I ask, peering around his shoulder looking back to the car. “Is Alex with you?”
“I’m so sorry, buddy,” he answers, his head lowering, while his whole body visibly shakes. I want to run into the house, but instead, I reach out my hand and rest it on his shoulder, right as a sob escapes his mouth.
“Jess,” I say his name, my own eyes threatening tears just watching him breakdown in front of me.
“No!” I hear my mom yell behind me. My head whips around in time to see her collapse against my dad’s chest. She’s crying hysterically, clutching her worn dishrag in her fingers. My dad holds her, his head bowed, while the other Marine talks to them in low voices.
“What’s wrong?” My voice catches in my throat. It burns. A pain in my chest starts, as if an invisible hand has reached through my skin to grip my heart and squeezes.
“Colt,” Jess’s hands rise up to hold my shoulders. Tears flow down his cheeks and he makes no move to hide them. “Alex was on a mission to help some of our friends. They were ambushed. Alex didn’t make it. He’s gone.”
“No.” I shake my head. My eyes sting and my nose turns warm. “He’s a good soldier, he wouldn’t die.”
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Jesse keeps saying even while I shake my head. “He was the best soldier, he’s a hero.”
Hero. Alex is my hero. He can’t leave me. He has a son. What about my mom? What about my dad? How are we supposed to move past this? All he wanted was to save people who couldn’t save themselves. He was so sure every time he left that he knew what he was doing. He had a cause he believed in. He did a job not many would volunteer to take, knowing he could pay the ultimate price. My ten-year-old mind can’t put into words the anger and aggression that rises inside my body. Je
sse understands it, though. He tugs me to him, holding on with both arms, while I shake and sob into his shoulder. My tears bleed into the blue material of his jacket and over the patches that cover his chest. He never stops holding me. He never stops telling me that my brother was a hero, a good man, and that he fought until his last breath to save innocent lives. That he loved me. That I was his best friend, too.
My eyes flick up briefly, over Jesse’s shoulder, and clash with the bluest pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. Her bottom lip trembles while she watches the scene in front of her. In that moment, tears slide down her cheeks as if she’s silently mourning with me. I don’t know what it is about her. I should be mad. She’s a stranger and watching one of the most painful experiences of my life. Something about the way her eyes hold mine, though, makes that painful grip on my heart ease a little.
***
A month passes before we are able to have Alex’s funeral. His body was returned stateside and brought home to Tennessee. Another week passed while everyone was notified when his service would be. ‘Honoring Those Who Served’ is the running theme around our house and town today. Mom bought me an all-black suit to wear; it itches my neck like crazy. Dad tells me not to argue with her today, so I keep out of the house and out of her way. A car picks us up to drive us to the church where the closed casket sits at the front of the pews. An American flag is draped over it and a few of Alex’s friends stand off to the side, all dressed in their blues.
I pick Jesse out first. The minute he notices me, I glance away, unsure if I’ll ever be able to face him again. I cried into his shoulder like a baby instead of the ten-year-old I am. I’m embarrassed. Much to my relief, he nods at our family as we make our way to the front where the reserved seats are. A low murmur of voices chatter in the crowd. Occasionally a small sob breaks out. A baby whimpering causes my head to turn. Caitlyn is holding AJ in his carrier and sits next to my mom. I notice the way my mom’s body goes stiff and my brow rises. It’s not like her to not immediately reach for AJ anytime he’s in her proximity. I turn to my dad who has his eyes locked on the casket. He’s sitting stiff, his expression the same as the past month. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t frown or laugh or cry. The minute he heard about Alex, it’s as if a mask slipped into place, and all emotion left his body.
#SummerGirl Page 18