20 Red Years (Vietnam War Short Story)

The Price of War

November 15, 1967

I was devastated, watching as he left us, as he left me.

*******

I stood there watching as his now short blond hair moved further away from me. His tall confident stride made me miss him already. My eyes welled up with tears, blurring the bland hunter green Marine issued uniform, into a blob that swayed from side to side. Once he was out of sight I ran, I ran and ran until my feet couldn't run anymore and I my lungs burned as I desperately gasped for air. My knees gave way and I collapsed on them causing spikes of pain to shoot up them. The fat, ugly tears that had been threatening to fall finally come, unrelenting. I sob into my hands as I curl my body of my knees, pressing my forehead to the wet, mushy, awful Vietnamese soil.

Once the tears had subsided enough to become conscious of my surroundings I rolled onto my back and stared at the blue sky. It didn't seem real. I tried convincing myself that this was all just a very bad dream. That I'd wake soon and find my beloved blond brother playing with Gregory outside. Imagining they had guns in their hands and hiding behind trees and bushes, pretending to be cops and robbers. As much as I wanted to believe that, I knew deep down that it just wasn't true. Peter was gone. Just as I knew he always would when this blasted war started. Peter was 19, a strong, healthy, capable man. I truly believed he'd come back if not for me, then for our parents, he just had to.

As I lie there on the soft green grass, I started thinking about the past couple months of my life in Vietnam. It was August 3rd, 1965, Johnson had sent ground troops into Vietnam. Pa recently started working at a medical hospital here, called the 1st Medical Battalion. It is remarkably close to us in Da Nang. He is a very valued surgeon and I'm incredibly proud of him. Ma also worked there when Peter and I were able to stay home and take care of Maria and Greg. Unfortunately, Ma recently got sick with a severe virus that prevents her from breathing right and makes her hot all over. I read about it once in high school it was called influenza, more commonly known as the flu. Never-the-less, it was deadly once it reached a certain degree of intensity. We were all very anxious for her health and I wouldn't let the little ones anywhere near her, afraid they would contract it as well. As it was, I rarely got to go anywhere; even if I wasn't tied down, where would I go? I've got no friends and no work. Once I turn 18 on November 22, I plan on getting a job at daddy's medical hospital. I heard the crunch of dead twigs and shot to my feet looking around fervently for the source of the disturbance. Immediately I stood up straight and let out a loud,

"Who's there?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," someone in the woods answered. Then he stepped out of the thick foliage. I kept my distance, but I could clearly see his blond hair gleaming in the sunlight. He stood taller than me, which was rare, and spoke English, which was even more so.

"What are you doing here?"

"You still haven't answered my question," I replied in a stubborn manner. The stranger took a couple steps toward me but I tense and, he reads my expression not coming an closer.

"I'm Jason, now you answer my question."

"I'm thinking about my messed up life."

"Been there done that," Jason replied all too seriously.

"So, do you make a habit of scaring girls for no reason? If so, I suggest you work on breaking it, because it's not an attractive trait"

He chuckles, "No, no this was a complete accident, believe me. I was just trying to catch some dinner. Could I come closer so that we don't have to shout please?" As I took a few steps forward I noticed the bow in his hand and the quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.

"What is your name by the way?"

"I still don't trust you," I replied.

"Understandable, I didn't mean to interrupt your thoughts I apologize, but if you don't mind me staying it would sure be nice to have someone to talk to that can actually speak English if you know I mean?"

A small smile spreads across my lips. I did know what he meant.

"I guess I can spare a few moments." I saw a genuine smile spread across his face, revealing straight white teeth. We sat and talked for awhile. Neither of us really confessed any life-threatening secrets. I learned that he had one sister and his father was fighting in this cursed war. He loved the smell of basil leaves, his favorite food was venison. Favorite color was sunset orange, and that he moved here from Iowa. I told him that I had two brothers and one sister, my older brother left for war this morning, loved the smell of rain, favorite food was mashed potatoes. Favorite color was green and that we moved here from Georgia. Overall, he seemed like a great guy and I hoped I would see him again.