Foster

Chapter 2

Two years before Calvin was drafted into the war, he and his parents had lived in a small apartment centered in Boston, Massachusetts. The apartment had off-white colored walls, hardwood floors from the kitchen to the living room and inside the bathroom, as well as forest green carpeting in both bedrooms. The main hallway from the door opened out into empty space before a right turn into the living room, and the bedroom and bathroom doors in the lefthand wall. The living space then lead into the kitchen, where pots and pans hung by their handles from the ceiling, and the cabinets shone freshly polished wood. His mother and father were an older couple, but the townspeople were too quiet to make anything of it. Calvin's best and only friend was Kenneth Winston.
Every Sunday afternoon Kenneth would have lunch with the Foster family after church. The following Mondays, he would always return the favor by bringing Calvin's parents a bouquet of lilies. It wasn't much, but the Foster family graciously accepted them. Having been orphaned at the age of nine, Kenneth simply had no better place to be than the Foster house. Some would argue he may not have wanted to be anywhere else in the first place.

One Monday, however, Kenneth had not showed up to the Foster's door with his usual delivery. The family worried. He had not missed a single bouquet for three whole years. They knew something had to be wrong. So they waited.

Calvin had paced back and forth over every inch of the house. His head was hung and tucked tightly to his chest, and he chewed at his thumbnail until all that was left was a nub. This lasted from the lottery draft of December 1st, 1969, to the following day latw into the night. That's when the doorbell rang. Calvin raced to the door and swung it open, Kenneth stood sullenly in front of him. His eyes were red with the strain of crying, and the tears that had fallen were mixed into the rain dripping from his wet hair.

"Cal," Kenneth choked. "I'm in trouble."

Calvin bit his lip and stepped aside, he ushered him through the door and hurriedly closed and locked it behind him. His parents had went out for the night, and Kenneth had never come inside without asking them if he had permission. Kenneth walked to the couch and flopped down tiredly on it. Calvin had no doubt he was exhausted. He could smell the sweat on Kenneth from his position across the room.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Calvin spoke, "What happened, Kenny?"
Kenneth sighed, "The military... I-I was drafted. They want me inducted into service."

Calvin's mouth gaped, "Oh God." He paused for a second, "Why didn't they take you?"

"I ran. As fast as I could out the back."
"Your house is two miles away! How did you make it here?"

"The alleyways."

"Fuck."

They both nodded; Calvin rubbed his face in his hands.

"You can't outrun the military," Calvin stated simply.

"I can, and I will. I may not have much for a family, Cal, but I have my dog. He's still a mouth to feed and a warm body to comfort," Kenneth argued.

Calvin chuckled, "You still got Brutus? That old collie?"

Kenneth gave him a small smile, "Yeah, he needs me. Just as much as you and your family need your flowers."

  "He does," Calvin smiled back. "We could keep you here for a bit. It'll be your early Christmas present."

Kenneth laughed, "It's only the second of December, Cal."

Calvin shrugged, "Never too early for Chirstmas."

The two boys fell silent, gazing away from each other. Suddenly, the door burst open, and they snapped their heads toward it to see what had happened. A few military officers marched through the door toward Calvin and Kenneth, they snatched Kenneth up by his shoulders and began dragging him outside. Calvin ran after them as his friend screamed and writhed in the officer's grip, but he never fought back, only protested louder. Calvin found Kenneth's hands and held onto them tightly, pulling back on him.

"No!" He shouted, "You can't take him!"

The men carrying Kenneth said nothing, keeping such a firm hold on him that they were pulling Calvin along as well. Kenneth grew quiet as he gave in to the forces taking him away, staring back at Calvin with sad eyes.

"Just let go, Cal. I'm not worth the fight." Kenneth pulled himself up to stand one last time and used his momentum to embrace Calvin, "Thank you. For everything."

Kenneth fell back, letting himself be yanked toward a large, olive truck full of other men about his age. Calvin collapsed back on the wall and sobbed, watching as the officers hoisted Kenneth into the truck and sped off.

It would be another two weeks before the same truck came to take him as well.