Synesthesia

400 Lux

Ana

Its been two weeks since Caleb and I were at the lake with Sam and Bonnie, and its only now that we're getting to make the necklaces.

Caleb and I are sitting in the garage with the door open, sweet summer air floating in. He's strategically cutting the leather of his old baseball glove into two, long strips to serve as chains for our necklaces. He looks focused and sweet as he furrows his brows, trying to find a good spot to cut it. I smile.

As he's sitting there on that old wooden stool, focusing on that glove, my eyes stray to a photograph on the wall; its a black and white photograph of a man with a kind face and shining eyes. He looks about 25, he has very few wrinkles and he looks young. In the corner, a little message is written: 'Miss you always, Love, Dad.' He's in a military outfit, which leads me to believe its Caleb's father. I walk over to the photo and gently place a hand on the glass.

"Caleb, who is this man?" I ask softly, stroking the glass. Caleb looks up at the photo, squinting in the bright light.

"Its Edward William Braxton, Marine, and Father of two," he responds quietly. He looks up at me with eyes that are sad, eyes that are full of memories and pain.

"Do you miss him?" I whisper. He's silent for a minute as he gazes into Edward's eyes.

"Of course."

"Do you remember him?"

"Yeah. He died when I was nine."

"I'm sorry." My mother and father died when I was only two, yet I wish with all my heart that I could have known them, I have a tearing, burning desire to know who they were. I feel as if a little part of me is missing, I feel like a puzzle where two of the parts are lost. I can only imagine what it would be like to have all of that, for you to hold all of who you are in your hands, only for it to slip between your fingers and be gone forever.

"I remember he used to sing to us before we went to bed," Caleb says, "He used to gently kiss my mother on the cheek in front of us because he told us he wanted me to know what  love looked like. He used to take me down to the lake on the weekends to play with me, he used to howl along to the radio when it was turned on full blast, he used to take me into the city and show me the Christmas lights at Christmas time. He used to always peel oranges in one long strip, and he used to make me chocolate milk every morning before fourth grade." I hug him, hoping he feels comforted, knowing that I understand at least a little bit. 

I wish I could have met Edward William Braxton. He must have been a remarkable man.

"Here, look," Caleb whispers, pulling away from me and pulling the frame from off the wall. He removes the frame, and a stack of photos, about an inch tall, is beneath the one of Edward. 

We file through them. There's one of a little six year old Caleb decked out in fishing gear standing proudly next to his dad with a two inch fish. There's one of Caleb's mother kissing Edward at what looks like a wedding. Another one is of a nine year old Caleb holding a tiny Bonnie wrapped in a blanket next to a tired looking Mrs. Braxton. Another shows Caleb making a ridiculous face at the camera with applesauce smeared all over his face, one displays a tiny Caleb in a bubble bath with a Santa beard of bubbles. Another one is of Caleb holding his dad's hand in front of the Chicago Art Museum, Caleb looks frozen to the bone and adorabley sweet. Another one shows Bonnie sleeping next to Caleb on the couch, and yet another shows Edward reading Charlie and The Chocolate Factory to a baby faced Caleb and a young looking Mrs. Braxton with a baby Bonnie wrapped up tightly in her arms. The last one is of a teary eyed Caleb hugging Edward, who is dressed in a military outfit with a large bag at his side.