Under a Montana Sky

Chapter 8

William
I was having a really good time with Lilian, her smile and laugh make me crave for more. I didn't know I could truly be happy with another person's presence.

That all was until I was struck with the same question I dread. A question I hate when people bring up. I shouldn't act the way I do when I here it, but something gets fired up in me.

I stay silent and play with the towel in my hand. I walk over to the sink and start with the dishes. Not realizing the force I am doing them with.

For years people have asked me about my brother and I just hide away once more. It's a subject I don't want to relive again. It was a time that my poor mother had everything bad happen to her all at once and I don't want to see that again.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked." I her soft voice whisper out. It's traced with guilt.

"No, it's fine." I feel myself starting to crumble and want to tell her, but I choose not to. "Can you do the dishes I need to leave for a sec." I start to turn to walk away, until a hand is placed on my arm.

My eyes go from my feet to hers. They are a soft brown color and are very inviting.

"You know, you can talk to me, if you need to." She softly lets out. Her hand still placed on my arm.

"I..." I stutter with every word I try to let out. "I have...had," I correct myself. "A brother."

"What happened to him?" She sounds so sweet and caring.

I walk into the living to sit in front of fire trying to avoid the question she just asked. I throw another log into the fire hearing it start to sizzle and spark.

She comes and sits next to me, placing both her legs to the side of her. Her eyes seeming to drill holes in my head, waiting for me to answer her question that has now been left in the open.

"He got drafted." I whisper out. Not knowing if she even heard me.

I finally look up from the fire to see her dark brown eyes meeting mine. Her eyes sparkling  from the light of the fire. She has a soft look about her like she wouldn't hurt a fly.

"Will you couldn't stop him from being drafted, it sort of just happens." She says to me.

"That's the thing, I could have stopped it." My eyes meet hers again, seeing the confused that dancing through them.

"They sent us the paper saying we both got drafted, but when they found out it was just us two boys in the house they said one of the brothers needs to stay behind." I can feel the memories flooding back to me.

My Mama had a choice no one should make, which son could die young and which one stays home. I remember her crying every night trying to decide which one leaves. I remember yelling at my brother when he told me to stay. I recall those words so clearly. "William you have a future here, I have nothing. I can't farm, I can't stay here and never see the world."

He always wanted to leave, he said he would see the world one day and I guess he got a little of that.

"So you stayed behind and he went?" He voice sounds so comforting.

"My brother told me that I needed to stay. He said I could have a life here he never would have."

"Did he come back?" She sounds scared. Her voice seeming shaky as she lets out that question.

"He...was killed...somewhere in Germany." I stutter with every word, trying to keep the emotion inside.

  I had just fixed the truck in the shop when I stepped out to see who was in the driveway. There was a car out front the porch. Two men standing by the screen door, Mamas face told it all. She held that folded flag over he heart and fell to the ground. If Abby hadn't been there to help catch her she would have gotten hurt. But that was the least of her concern. Something else was hurt and couldn't be fixed.

"That's awful. It must have been hard on your family."

"Yeah, it was harder on my mother more than anything. She blamed herself for letting him leave."

"War affects everyone in different ways." She leaves the statement hanging in the air.

"War only affects the working class, the high class couldn't even bother giving up their rich sons to fight for the country." I let out not realizing the attitude that came with it.

I look over at her and see her stir from where she is sitting. That comment, forgetting she grew up rich, should have been kept to myself.

"Well, I don't know about that. Rich people aren't always so happy." She tearfully says.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that." I turn myself so I'm facing more towards her now than the crackling fire in front of us.

"No it's fine." She starts to get up to walk away.

"Hey Lily." I call out before she leaves.

"Yes."

"Thank you, for letting my talk." I stand up and say to her. A small smile appears on her face.

"Any time." She says before turning around to head up the stairs.

I sit there smiling like a fool with the thought of her in my head. I really haven't talked about my brother in years. He is my touchy subject.

Sometimes I think the wrong brother died, based on how my mama cried. Her cries never sounded like they were coming from loss, but of frustration.
She was mad at herself for letting him leave and not me.

I have had to live with this for years, knowing she would have chosen me not him.

With the memories flooding my head I start to walk to the kitchen. Opening the top cabinet above the fridge and grabbing the whiskey.

Pouring a glass then shooting it down in two drinks. How am I supposed to raise a child? Did I not think about this till now?