Tall grass muffles every sound:
every crack of the gun,
every roar of the tank,
every crash of the bomb,
every moan if the soldier.
I part the underbrush with the barrel of my gun until there is a fair view of the small clearing ahead. I take a sharp intake of breath as I recognize the badge number of the man laying still only feet away. My throat is swollen with disbelief and denial, but I somehow push the words through my lips.
"Eddie?" I whisper.
The man does not stir.
I whisper louder.
"Eddie?"
The man makes no sound.
I whisper louder.
"EDDIE?"
Nothing.
Death has already stolen
the lights from his eyes.
I stagger back toward the way I came, staying low, avoiding any sign of man. Every once in a while I stumble across another dead soldier but I hurry past; I do not need any more memories to haunt my dreams. Finally, I spot a small camouflaged shelter and scramble inside. I peer out the small window, mostly obscured by tall grass and shrub.
"War," I croaked.
"'The only way to peace.'
"Well, I don't fall for that."
I scan the dry field, ignoring the occasional thunder of a bomb or stuttering of machine guns. I pull out a piece of paper from within my jacket, worn from being folded and unfolded too many times, and hold it up to the fading light.
I open the photo
and rememorize each face
of those from the
happy, surreal past.
Kimmie was seated on my lap wearing a Barbie birthday hat, holding a squirmy toy poodle in her arms. Deb stood behind me, her hands on my shoulders, laughing at the small dog. Eddie sat in the next chair over, grinning at the camera with his arms crossed, enjoying the barbeque. His son Benny, a small, gangly thing, was smiling behind him with a baseball glove placed comically on his head, eyes barely visible beneath it. Lucy, his older daughter, was leaning casually against the splintery wood railing of the deck, shading her eyes from the sun with one hand.
Those days
seem so far away.
My throat swells up once more as I realize Eddie will never be able to experience them again. I make a noise half way between a sigh and a sob.
I tuck the photo
close to my heart
and head back out
into the field of fate.
