The Flags

The Drive Down

Kasper watches as his parent's friends carry their corpses to their limousine. He cries when they slide his father's coffin in the back, and he closes his eyes and covers his ears when they push his mother's in too. Mr. Dorian rubs his shoulder and Kasper's tears fall through his hands. "Do you want me to ride with you?" Mr. Dorian crouches down to Kasper and whispers in his ear. Kasper peeks through his fingers and saw Private Carson standing at attention in a line of other soldiers. His right eye is swollen shut and blue from the bruise covering almost half his face, and his nose and mouth area is stained red.
"No," Kasper wipes his face and stands up taller. "I need to do this alone, thank you."
There are several cars varying in size, color, age and speed that will follow the black limousines 12 miles to the cemetery where Kasper's parents' gravestones await their occupants.
About a mile into the drive, they enter the highway and hit cruise control at 55 mph. Kasper was attempting to rub the tears off his father's casket behind him when he saw one of the cars leave at the wrong exit. He knew it wasn't a mistake; that car was Private Carson's car. A rusty, old, beat up piece of junk, just like him. As he watches Private Carson clunk away in his mobile trash, he unwittingly promises his parents and himself to never turn into that. He rolls his window down and sticks his head out like a dog. He can feel his tears blow back into his hair, and he closes his mouth. Just as a precaution.
He looks behind him and is surprised with the number of cars with American flags attached to them farther than his eyes can see. He smiles and waves, and they all honk back.