Sledgehammer

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚞𝚙

December 1941.

The cool Alabama air breezed swiftly against my back. I unbuttoned my shirt about halfway and sat with a twitching leg, waiting for my father. He slowly stumbled through the door with a sigh, holding his box full of medical equipment. He sat down beside me and released another, more emotional sigh. He placed the medical box on his lap and took out a stethoscope. He gently fixed the buds into his ears and motioned for me to come closer. I shuffled forward and turned my head away, trying to hold myself together. My father placed the chest-piece onto my upper-left chest and listened for a few moments. I looked back at him as he wistfully removed the stethoscope and placed his thumb on his lip, looking at me misfortunately. I knew exactly what was wrong.

"Eugene," he gently spoke, then pausing. A few moments later following with, "I'm sorry." I didn't know how to reply. I was feeling many emotions, mainly disappointment. My father glanced at me as I stared into nothingness, and he stood up and left.

I found it nearly impossible to wrap my head around the situation so I remained in my adrift state for a few moments. As soon as I came back, I couldn't do anything but cry. My head fell into my lap, tears following.

After a few minutes, I managed to pull myself together. I buttoned up my shirt and faltered out of the house and jumped on my bike and cycled away. That cycle was truly a moment I could never forget. All the emotions I were feeling. They were all shown in that five minute cycle to my best friend Sidney's neighbourhood. Frustration, anger, sadness, failure, disappointment. I felt irrevocable. But then I saw my best friend.

We sauntered through the tall hardy pampas grass in the ethereal meadow in Sidney's neighbourhood. Every few moments I would look at him, then back down to the oxeye daisies surrounding my feet. We were talking about his departure. I looked up to him, the warm and mellow sunset's hue beaming off his face. His eyes slightly squinted and a gentle smile resting on his face. It was in that moment that I realised how real this was. My best friend, Sidney Phillips, was leaving for bootcamp, training to serve in the Pacific. And I couldn't join him.

"What time do you leave?" I asked him, my smile failing.

"I'm on a 6am to Atlanta," he replied, looking as if he was trying to smile for me. I reached into my left pocket and took out a small book. 'Barrack Room Ballads' by Rudyard Kipling.

"I got you something," I said, smiling and handing him the book. "It's just something to read on the train or when you're.. shipping out." I continued. He thanked me with a gentle, bright-eyed smile.

"I wish we were going together," Sid sighed, turning his head and lightly squinting.

"Yeah, you take care of yourself." I replied with a smile. Then patting his arm once.

"You don't have to worry about me." he chuckled to me, hopping on his bike and waving back at me.

As I cycled back home, calmer this time, I was deep in thoughts. Did I need my father's permission? I mean, I was eighteen. My thoughts swiftly faded back to Sid. How long will it be till I see him? All I knew is that wouldn't be his final goodbye. From his brave face to his kind heart, I was lucky to have him. And not ready for him to leave.