A War on Two Fronts (Peterick)

Chapter 1

-Patrick-

I turned off the TV, not wanting to see the long updated list of men who died in Vietnam today. Thanks to the commonality of TV across America, we could see just what is happening and, a list of the dead. I use to keep up with the list, wanting to see if any of my friends will come home, but then I saw that many of them won't. I began thinking how many other families won't get to see their friends and family, so I stopped. One can only handle so much death. It may not be happening in front of me, but I can see it's aftermath all around me. There was huge protest to the war. Hundreds of people, even thousands, gathered in cities with signs in hands, begging for an end. "Make love. Not war." I often see. I'm at the point of not caring anymore. This war has already taken everything but my parents away from me. But with so many people unemployed, they are almost always at work, so I hardly see them anyways.

After sitting in silence for what felt like years, Or heard knock on the door. When I opened it, my world suddenly got brighter.

"Elisa!" I saw her smiling and I couldn't help but smile myself.

"Hey Patrick. Are you busy?"

"Nope. Come in and we can talk. Its December and it's cold." I shut the door behind her and kissed her quickly. "What's up?" I asked her.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see you." She said as she "fixed" my hair.

"Elisa. Stop. I like my hair the way I had it." Giggling, I softly swatted her hands away from my head, fixed my hair, and readjusted my glasses.

"But I want to be able to see your forehead."

"My forehead isn't important. Stop trying to move my bangs."

"Fine..." She followed me into the kitchen.

"Is there anything you want to drink or eat?" I asked, trying to be polite.

"Yes actually. Surprise me." She said smiling. I hated when she did that. I checked the pantry. Empty. I checked the fridge. Empty. I checked all the cabinets. Empty.

"Uhh.. How about we go out and get something?" I suggested.

"I didn't bring any money, Patrick." She said looking at the ground.

"Don't worry about it. I'll pay."

"But Patrick you don't have that much money."

"It's fine. I have enough."

"But I do-" I cut her off.

"Elisa. It's okay. It's just one dinner." I insist.

"Okay...." She said quietly giving in.

We walked to the IHOP at the corner of the street and got a table for two. I ordered an omelet while she got pancakes.

"So what's new?" I asked trying to make conversation.

"Nothing much." She said, slowly chewing her food. She was distracted, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

"Elisa... What's wrong?" I grabbed her hand from across the table looking her in the eyes.

"There's a draft, Patrick."

"What do you mean." I asked puzzled.

"I mean, that they can just come and take you away from me, and neither you or me will have any say about it!" I leaned back a little bit. She had tears rolling down her cheeks and she was almost yelling.

"I.... I didn't know. When did this happen?" I asked, trying to take everything in.

"Today. After they displayed the list of casualties on the TV, they announced it. Men above 18 are eligible... Patrick... you're 19... if they take you I don't know wha-"

"They won't take me Elisa! I promise. Out of all the men in this country, what makes you think they will choose me? We have nothing to worry about. I promise. I will never leave you." I tried my best to reassure her, but I didn't even believe myself.

"Okay..." We finished our lunch in silence. I walked her home, kissed her goodbye, and told her that I love her.

I walked home and went to my bedroom. I stared at the ceiling. More aftermath of a war that nobody wanted. Before I thought that the war had already taken all it can from me, but I was wrong apparently. They can take me away, effectively taking my life away. But I haven't been drafted. I'm still here. Home in Chicago and I'm not goin anywhere because they don't need me to fight their war.

In the middle of thinking to myself, I heard a hard knock on the door. I made my way to the front door, unlocked it, and opened it. There were two men in military uniforms standing tall and rigid.

"Is this the home of Patrick Stump?" The one in front asked.

"Yes. That's me. What's going on."

"You've been drafted to join the war son."