Soldier Keep On Marching On

When Do We Start

Soldier keep on marchin' on
Head down 'til the work is done
Waiting on that morning sun
Soldier keep on marchin' on

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Rushing water splashing against plates would be the first sound a person would hear when they entered the home. The next would be the sound of a woman's voice, humming along to a song only she knew. If that person were to follow the voice, they would find a woman standing at the sink washing dishes from dinner. The woman had black hair as short as one would see on a boy, and dark green eyes that would only prove themselves green when sunlight hit them. As it so happened, the person who we were using as a metaphor was real.

"Hi, Aiden!" the person yelled.

Aiden, now identified as the woman at the sink, whirled around with a knife in her hand. Her eyes scanned the room and narrowed on the female figure. She scoffed and tossed the soapy knife back into the sink.

"I swear Jessica," Aiden addressed her friend. "One of these days you will give me a heart attack! You're twenty years old, act your age."

"I'm just here to pick up my favorite brother-nephew," Jessica replied cheerfully.

Jessica was in some ways a daughter to Aiden, despite their nine-year age difference. Aiden found Jessica on the streets when she was 27, Jessica being only 18. Her mother had thrown her out in a drunken stupor. In the two years since that night Jessica had become both daughter and sister. They bonded over their love of tv shows and films, and Aiden's son Tristan. He was two when Jessica had been brought home, always calling her sissy and aunty Jess. He didn't seem to mind she was both.

Before either of the two had entered her life, Aiden spent her childhood with a good family she loved. Her mother and father lived in the next town over and always made it a point to come see their grandson and granddaughter. When she hit eighteen, she went straight into the military, just as her father had. It scared her mother to death, but she respected her daughter's decision.

By the time she was twenty-three she had earned the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, and with that rank came the opportunity to have her own little squad or team she could command. And while she didn't mind giving orders or the paperwork that came with the rank, Aiden missed the civilian life. So she resigned, assigned her subordinates a new commanding officer, and returned home. Much to the relief of her mother.

Two years later Aiden had a son, Tristan Ross Wilson. The father wanted nothing to do with him so as far as it concerned Aiden, he was out of the picture. Her parents doted on the boy who was a spitting image of her. Then another two years later came Jessica and although her parents thought it weird to be mothering someone only nine years younger than her, they accepted it and spoiled Jessica just as much as they did Tristan. Now, at age twenty-nine, Aiden and Tristan lived in a two room, one bath apartment. Jessica lived a few blocks down the road and visited whenever possible.

"Aunty Jess!" an enthusiastic voice yelled from the couch.

Aiden smiled as her son ran around the object and Jessica spun the boy around in her arms. Tristan was giggling madly. Aiden turned around, rinsed and dried the knife, and placed it in the drawer.

"Are we still going out for ice cream?" Tristan asked as he was set on the floor.

"Have you eaten your dinner yet?"

"Yes!"

Jessica cast a look over to Aiden and smiled. "Can we mom? Please?"

Now on the receiving end of two pairs of puppy eyes, Aiden laughed and nodded.