Letters to Hank

Chapter Four

Much to Hazel's dismay, Alfred retrieved the mail the day they arrived home from Hawaii. She always loved catching up on letters and magazines and newspapers, and how greatly she adored the fresh scent of ink in the mailbox. Yet Alfred had brought it inside and left everything on the table. She dug through it, separating what was important and what was junk. Smiling, she rested her hands on her hips.

"Hank!" she called. "We're home!"

Hank appeared around the corner wearing blue Levi's and a red t-shirt that proudly said St. Louis Cardinals. He leaned against the wall, giving his crutch a break. "How was the trip?"

"Oh, Hank." Hazel's eyes lit up at the memories of the seaside breeze, the salty air, the soft sand between her toes. "It was perfect. I wish you'd've come."

He shrugged. "I had a fine time here."

"Did you get my postcard? I didn't see it in the mail."

Hank nodded with a smile. "I got it. Thanks for thinking of me." He hobbled to the kitchen table and plopped himself in a chair. "Tell me all about it."

Hazel understood her assignment all too well. Her joy bubbling over, she went on and on about every detail she could remember about the Hawaiian islands. She paced around the room as her recollections replaced her reality. And dear Hank sat at listened contentedly.

"It's getting late," Alfred said, drawing her back to the small, dimly lit kitchen. "Why don't you tell Henry here to go to bed."

Hazel stopped for a moment, wondering why he didn't tell Hank himself. Nevertheless, she yawned and took out the clip holding her hair. "Alfred is right. You have work tomorrow. You ought to get some rest."

Hank nodded. Hazel helped him to his feet and stayed by his side until he was safely in the room. She took note of the Hawaiian postcard lying on his nightstand, just beneath the lamp.

"I'll keep it safe as long as I live," he said quietly.

Hazel smiled, tears crawling into her eyes. As Hank sat on the bed, she couldn't help but see him as a child. She recalled all the days when they had explored the backyard together, all the laughs they shared in the school hallways, all the moments they had joyously gathered before the war diminished his life of all color. There he sat on the bed, one leg attached and one gone forever. He was nothing more than that innocent little boy she waved goodbye to as he boarded the plane dressed in his flawless uniform so many years ago.

"I hope you will," she said with a crack in her voice. "Get some rest, alright?"

Hank nodded. "I will, Hazel. You don't got to worry about me."

"I know." She leaned against the doorframe, a rogue droplet trickling down her cheek and dangling at her chin. "But I do. And I always will. You're my little brother." She smiled and stepped out of the room. "And you always will be."

Shutting the door behind her, Hazel entered the hallway. Alfred stood in their bedroom with a frown on his lips.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, careful not to wake baby James as he slept in his crib just one room over.

Alfred shook his head slowly. "I worry about you sometimes."

She stepped inside and began unbuttoning her white cardigan to reveal a pink, collared polo. "You worry about me? Alfred, I'm not the one that needs to be worried about."

"Then who should I worry about?"

"Hank!" Hazel jumped at the volume of her own voice. She held her breath, waiting for James to let out a blood-curdling scream. To her relief, he continued to sleep peacefully in the adjacent room. Hazel lowered her tone and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Hank needs the worrying."

Alfred sighed as he sank onto the bed. "I couldn't bring myself to worry about him if my life depended on it."

"You take that back, Alfred Kroyer."

"I will not."

Hazel tugged her sweater off, color bursting onto her cheeks. "Hank is my brother. If you love me as much as you say you do, you'll love him. Am I understood?"

Alfred rose and pressed a cool hand to his wife's forehead. "Are you feeling well? You look pale, and I think you may be running a fever."

"I'm just fine," she said with a voice set in stone.

"Maybe we ought to see a doctor tomorrow."

"A doctor? Are you out of your mind? I need no doctor."

"Hazey, just for good measure? Being out of the state and overseas can be unhealthy."

Hazel considered his proposition for a moment. Finally, she collapsed into his arms and nodded. "Alright. But I'm only going so you can have some peace of mind."

"Fair enough."

Yet come the next morning, Hazel found it to be much too beautiful of a day to spend trapped in the doctor's office. Defying her husband's wishes, she spent the afternoon at the park with James and Hank, enjoying the fine luxury of being home.