Project Meyburn

4

Megan

Eighty-nine bottles of milk on the wall, eighty-nine bottles of milk; take one down, pass it around, eighty-eight bottles of milk on the wall! Eighty-eight bottles of milk on the wall, eight-eight bottles of milk; take one down pass it around, eighty-seven...Ah fuck it!

I sighed heavily as I leaned against the cool glass window of the army transport. I was still in this truck. In all the haste to get all of us out, packed, and heading toward the military-whatever-the-hell-you-call-it, I had forgotten that I lived about twenty minutes away. And while that wouldn't be too bad on a regular day, today traffic sucked.

So, like any somewhat rational human being who is stuck in traffic with a stoic army dude who refused to even look your way except to bark, Don't touch that!, I started to sing stupid songs in my head to pass the time. Unfortunately for me, I was a little lacking in the patience department.

"Are we there yet?" I asked the army dude beside me.

"We are ten minutes out," He replied.

Well, great. I was already out of songs to sing in my head, and since the entire goddamn truck was made out of hard-ass metal, it was way too uncomfortable to sleep, and if traffic didn't start moving in the next five minutes I was going to lose my mind.

This is just peachy.

I mean it was not like I could have a conversation with this guy, he was basically a box of rocks in camo. From what I'd gathered in this thrilling expedition, my companion was about thirty-five years old—I'd guessed this based on the number of frown lines the man was actively sporting. He was also fairly tall, having about five inches on me, so he had to be at least six feet tall. My lovely new friend also had dark brown, nearly black eyes. Which didn't help one bit with the creepy vibe that was practically radiating from him. He still hadn't told me his name since apparently he only knew how to converse in barked orders. So, we are just going to refer to him as the man. And that is the sum of my knowledge about this guy, all of which I had gathered on my own through my incredible skills of observation. No need for applause.

Wait, hold on a second... We were moving. We were actually moving! Oh thank the good Lord in Heaven, Hallelujah!

I never thought I would be so happy to see cars move. But, hell I was practically giddy! Little did I know then that I would later come to relish just the idea of working cars.

We finally turned the corner onto the next street, and from there my home was just up the road. A heavy fog of dread had started to fall over me as I realized that we were mere minutes away from what might be my last time at home.

Before I knew it, we were pulling into my driveway. I saw people walking down the street stop and gawk at us. I supposed an army transport vehicle wasn't something most people saw on a daily basis.

I could see my dad's car in the garage. It suddenly hit me that I would have to say goodbye to him in just a few short minutes. I wasn't ready for that. Who would ever be ready for that? It was already hard enough saying bye to my mom.

Almost as if I was in a trance, I got out of the truck, and walked slowly over to my front door, only barely aware of the man in army fatigues following close behind me. Then I was at my front door, reaching for the door knob. As soon as the door opened I saw him. Sitting on the couch in the living room, his gaze permanently fixed on where I was standing. And I knew that Mom had already called and told him what was going to happen.

Looking back on that day, there was so much I should have told him. So many words that I would never get to tell my father. Had I had the chance, I would have told my dad just how much he meant to me, how much I loved him. Little did I know at the time, that that very day would be the last time I saw my father.