“Papa go home, go to bed now. It’s getting late.”
That was all he wanted to say. In his mind the words formed perfectly. He could even hear himself say them with the perfect kind but firm tone with just enough love behind it to show he cared, but not so much that it would make things uncomfortable. But he just couldn’t make himself speak. The lips, tongue muscles and vocal chords he used so well with so many other people, to tell his mother how much he loved her, to whisper in his girl’s ear how beautiful she was, to yell till his throat was bloody while with his mates, now just remained resolutely unmoving. Then again that was nothing new. It had been a long time since he felt he could talk around his father.
They had been fine when he was little. He chuckled in his head as he realized that even today Papa was good with babies and little tykes. They used to do so many things together. Papa took him everywhere and he was so happy to tag along and be just like Papa. Papa was his hero. Papa was better than some comic book hero. He was always there for him. Papa looked just like any other average guy. He was neat, tidy and proper. Papa loved his family. He always stood by them and he made sure they never went lacking in anything. But he was man of few words and he always got himself into a tangle if he had to show a softer side of himself. He was someone that would not let go, not give up and he never backed down nor was afraid to stand up in his own from what he believed was right, no matter the cost. Each time he saw Papa ‘be a man’ as papa himself said, he was a little bit prouder and looked up to Papa a little bit more. He wanted to say how proud he was of Papa so many times.
“Papa, you’re like a superhero aren’t you? I’m glad you’re my daddy!” he wanted to say. But he just couldn’t make himself speak. The lips, tongue muscles and vocal chords he used so well with so many other people now just remained resolutely unmoving and he settled with just smiling as well as he could and hoping Papa got the message somehow.
Papa was easy to look up to in awe when he was only as tall as Papa’s knee. But as he kept growing little by little past Papa’s knee and taller and taller, looking up kept losing that sense of awe little by little too. As he grew older there were more books to read, more schoolwork to study, more girls to chase, more friends to hang out with, more things to do, than follow Papa around anymore. Papa didn’t say much about it except the twenty questions that he had to go through every time he wanted to walk out the door to go somewhere and the angry words ringing in his ears every time he wasn’t back at home exactly when he was supposed to. He was always ‘worrying his mother’. How seething with anger he was then. He was supposed to be out there with his other teenage friends making the best of the best time of his life, but he wasn’t allowed to do that. He thought of how Papa would go on about all the things he’d done when he was young, but now he wouldn’t let his own son go out into the world.
“Hypocrite!” he thought each time. “I’ve always been a good boy, never getting in to trouble, getting good grades. Don’t I deserve to have some fun too.” he fumed.
He settled with just walking grim faced to his room and imagining all the ways he could leave this small town behind. Papa wanted him to keep studying and he didn’t mind that at all. He just didn’t want to go into higher learning for some bland nonsense so he could join the family business and sit in that office next to Papa day in and day out, day after day after day. That was what the family expected of him, just like Papa did all those years ago. He just couldn’t do that. He wanted to learn of the things that would stoke the fires of his soul and see the world in all its brightest and darkest colors. But that was not to be it seemed. Plans were made for him long ago, and he fought every one of them. Fighting hard, him on one side and Papa on the other, to protect the castles he was building in the skies. It didn’t matter that they were castles on foundations of nothing more than clouds and dreams. Then one day, it was their last battle. He was told that the family wouldn’t support him going off and chasing some hippy nonsense to learn. The siege was finally broken. He walked out broken hearted but resolute.He needed some air, some time to think. The castles in the clouds had been vacated but not fallen and their lord was not down but set to wander. There was more than one way to get out of here he thought. He was mad at Papa for going along with the family and for not sticking up for him, for not taking his side. But it didn’t matter now.
“But they can't touch me now, and you can't touch me now. They ain't gonna do to me what I watched them do to you Papa.”
The flag waved gaily as he walked in through the doors. The man inside was very nice about explaining everything to him and telling him how much better his life was going to be. As he signed the dotted line on the papers at the recruiting office he heard snaps, crackles and booms far away. The officer must have noticed the confused and inquisitive look on his face.
“Why son, those are the fireworks. It IS Independence Day you know.”
------- // -------
The front lines were nothing like the brave stories he was told. He knew in his gut that it was all a bunch of baloney. He never thought that it would be this bad. He couldn’t even tell you how bad it was, the whole world was just a giant blur of yells, explosions, bullets, fire and blood. Moving from cover to cover, his conscious mind overwhelmed and barely registering what was happening around him. Thankfully his training wasn’t useless and his body acted as it needed to, running, hiding shooting. To him it all seemed like a movie or a game and he was just watching his body being controlled by some other worldly force.
Then he saw it buried near that rock “Bow-wow’ was leaning on and the haze on his mind lifted. For once his mind was as clear as a summers day and was doing what he had to do almost before he knew what it was. He couldn’t let his buddy die, who else could do those dog impressions better than him. “Get outta there!!!!” he found himself screaming as he tackled his mate and hurled him away. He saved Bowwa, but there was noone to save him.
He didn’t even feel the IED go off. The squad would later find out that it was a lot bigger that what was to be seen on the surface. The momentum it had taken to push Bowwa out of the way had taken him away from where the shrapnel was directed, but the force of the blast was powerful enough to hurl him twenty feet. He survived, barely. He was in and out of consciousness for the first two days. Then on the seventh he slipped into a coma and they airlifted him back home.
------- // -------
So here he lay in bed at the military hospital. Not being able to move a muscle. But now he knew for sure that the stories of coma patients being aware of their surrounding was really true. The irony was that he couldn’t tell anyone since he was in a coma. He felt the doctors coming to check on him and the nurses fussing over him every day. He felt his family and friends come and go. He could recognize all of them. Most of all, he could recognize Mama right next to him, keeping vigil everyday. She was trying to keep it together but every so often the tears would be too much and she broke down. And every time, Papa was there to comfort her.
Papa’s presence was unmistakable as it ever was. Even with all natural senses lost to him he could feel Papa there strong and resolute keeping everything together. Except that one time when noone else was in the room and he broke down in tears while holding his hand. He tried so hard to get his hand to work, to hold Papa’s hand as he was holding his and to say everything was going to be alright. It was just not to be.
“Papa…” he wanted to say. “…nothing we can say can change anything now. Now I know the things you wanted that you couldn’t say. I always knew, WE always knew, but we forgot along the way. I know you love me Papa, and I love you too.”
All those things he wanted to say but he just couldn’t make himself speak. The lips, tongue muscles and vocal chords he used so well with so many other people now just remained resolutely unmoving. Just as they always did around Papa, except now he really couldn’t use them and tears welled up in his minds eyes as his broken body remained a prison for all those things he should have said so long ago. He knew that he’d be out of here in the morning and as he tried to make his peace he wondered if St. Mary would be there for him at the gates.
------- // -------
He had gone through many tough times in his life. Far too many to count, far too many to tell. But nothing he had ever gone through was anything like the agony of seeing his little boy lying in that bed all broken, never to wake up again. You could never tell from his face. He was brought up and he lived by the rules that a man, the head of the family, must always be strong and keep it together when everything falls apart. He did that. When the officers came to his door to inform the family that his son was lying broken at the base hospital, Mama had wailed so much the whole neighborhood heard, but he kept it together. No one knew the agony he was going through inside for his little boy.
His boy. His sweet boy he loved so much. He didn’t see the handsome and broken war hero.He still saw the little kid not grown past his fathers knee that followed his Papa around everywhere. Yes they had their differences over the years but boy was he proud of him and he loved him so much. Did he ever tell him that? Did he know how much his Papa loved him he wondered. It was a good thing Mama or anyone else wasn’t in the room because he couldn’t take it anymore. The tears came rolling down his cheeks as easily as the sobs long held back as he held his son’s near lifeless hand.
“I’m sorry son.” Papa sobbed. “I’m sorry for everything. It’s too late now but I’m still so very sorry. I only wanted to keep you safe, keep you close. Because in the end , after everything all that matters is family. I know you wanted to learn and see the world and be your own man, I swear I never meant to take those things away. Son I’m proud of you, I’m so proud of you. You’re just like your old man was once. Stubborn as a mule and always getting his way somehow. And you did, you got out of this town just like you always said you would. I only wish this wasn’t the way we finally talked to each other…” the old man sobbed. Weariness showing on his face as it never did before.
As Papa started away from the bed and he moved to take away his hand he thought he felt a tiny pulse of movement, a grip so faintly felt it could’ve even been the wind. Papa stopped for a moment. Could it be, he thought. Was his son on his way back from whatever dark place he had been. He waited some more, but nothing more happened. As he settled back to his place of vigil at the window his last hopes for his boy quietly died inside him. From the very first day he had stood at the window for a reason. No one could see his tears.
------- // -------
It was morning when the doctor came on his rounds. He was only a few seconds with his patient when he turned around and started to say “I’m sorry….” The rest of his words were drowned out in a flood of Mama’s tears and cries. Papa went to her side and held her. As she cried into his chest he said “There there now. It’s over now. He’s free. He’s in a better place.” She only caught a few words in the midst of her grief and the cannon fire that started just then. It was the 21 gun salute for fallen heroes at the military base.
It was Independence Day.
This was written for this weeks IndieInk challenge to a prompt made to me by Marian @ Runaway Sentence, who also apparently had been stalking me to get the perfect challenge for me ;) I am touched, and I hope this lives up to it. It was a doozy of a prompt that I dearly loved. The Boss being one of my favourite musicians. Also to check out how Sir answered my challenge, go here
"write a story inspired by the Bruce Springsteen song "Independence Day," and include this lyric from the song in your story: "I swear I never meant to take those things away.""
