The Time Until (22 page)

4 Years Ago (Age 16):
 
November

Do we really have to do this right now?
 
It’s only been a week for god’s sake.
 
Not to mention, it’s cold and there are way
too many people here just to pick up my brother.
 
Sam is hugging my arm for support and comfort
while we wait for the plane to finish its taxi on the tarmac.
 
Nate is standing next to me in his dress
blues — newsflash, they don’t fit him that well anymore — and my parents are on
the other side with Jenny close to them.

Everyone is crying, their tears soaking their
faces.
 
I feel like the odd one:
 
I’m not crying.
 
In fact, it’s like I don’t feel anything at
all right now.
 
Occasionally I’ll get a
lump in my throat that will choke me up, but those are usually easy to
swallow.
 
A sudden hitch in my heartbeat,
I’ve gotten good at ignoring them.
 
Then
there’s the pesky waterworks that I can hide with a quick swipe of my fingers
or blink of the eyes.

Nope, I’m not a total wreck like everyone else
is.

A military color guard stands at attention at
the base of a tunnel walled by veterans — old men in uniform — and active duty
military personnel on leave.
 
It makes
his coming home a little like a celebration instead of the somber occasion it
should be.
 
I’m not sure how I feel about
that.
 
On one hand, I’m happy that he’s
getting this kind of greeting.
 
On the
other, it shouldn’t feel so festive.

I decide to let it go; he’s dead, what does he
care?

The plane stops and full dress Marines
carefully get the decorated box out of the cargo hold, every military person
salutes — including Nate.
 
Carrying the
coffin through the long tunnel of saluting people, they place it into a hearse
and we follow to its destination, the funeral home.

The viewing is tomorrow and the funeral itself is
the day after.

The viewing isn’t like I thought it would
be.
 
We went with the open casket, since
he wasn’t shot in the head and neither was he blown up — mostly.
 
His unit was ambushed while on patrol and he
managed to provide cover until they were safe.
 
A lucky shot clipped James when he was trying to escape himself – a
lucky shot that went through his heart.

People file one-by-one through the line, each
trying to get a glimpse of my brother.
 
I
haven’t been through yet, but I plan to eventually.
 
Sam sits with me and holds my hand.
 
I appreciate her simple, but comforting,
gesture.
 
I want to leave and just enjoy
Sam’s company, but I know that people will frown on that.
 
My dad might understand and Nate too, but my
mom would give me ‘The Eye’ for weeks if I did.
 
I don’t want that, despite how harmless that look really is.

Sam gives me a gentle squeeze to let me know
that we’re the last ones, it’s only family left.
 
Sam never let’s go of my hand as we make our
way to the coffin and I catch my first glimpse of my brother since finding out
about his death.

He looks surprisingly alive.
 
He has some color in his cheeks and the dress
blues he’s being buried in look pressed and new.
 
Walking up to him, it almost looks like he’s
breathing.
 
In fact, I think he is
breathing, I can see the slight movement of his chest.

“He’s not dead,” I say aloud.
 
Sam looks surprised and my family seems
confused.
 
I walk faster up to him and
grab his wrist to check for a pulse, my mother gasps slightly.
 
At first, I can’t feel anything, but after
rearranging my fingers a little, so my thumb is on his veins, I feel a steady
and rapid beat.
 
I smile brightly at the
thought and start trying to wake him up.

“Wake up, bro,
come
on.
 
Wake up.” Sam steps up next to me and looks
down on James with sympathy and regret.
 
I can’t stand her looking like that; she thinks he’s still dead.

“Sam, he’s still alive,” I tell her and she
looks at me with tears in her eyes, “can’t you see?
 
He’s breathing.” Can’t she see his chest
moving?
 
I look again and notice that
it’s not moving now.
 
Now I’m confused, I
know I saw it moving a second ago.
 
Reaching for his wrist again, I can’t find the steady pulse I did
before.
 
Why?
 
I know what I felt.

“Why?
 
I
saw it.
 
His chest
…
 
moving
.
 
I’m sure…” Sam places her hand on my back as
my legs stop holding me.
 
Tears break
through my defenses and trail down my face.
 
I can’t get it out of my head, I know what I saw, what I felt.

Or did I?

He looks so
alive,
did
I just imagine him doing all that?
 
Sam
wraps her arm around me and I lean into her trying to make sense of
everything.
 
A soothing sound from her
lips makes me realize that I’m sobbing softly into her shoulder.

“I’m sure I… breathing…” I continue to mumble
and I hear quiet weeping from my mother in the distance.
 
Comprehension slowly injects itself into my
psyche.
 
My brother is dead.
 
Nothing is going to bring him back. I
stubbornly rejected that idea and forcibly shutdown my own emotions.
 
I was trying hard not to feel anything for my
brother’s death.
 
I callously threw
myself into my new relationship with Sam and, though I wouldn’t change a thing
about us as a couple, I destroyed an innocent and sweet girl in the process.

In trying to deny my feelings, I completely
ignored hers.

Kate has barely even looked at me this whole
week and the school split down the middle over which side they’re
supporting.
 
She talks to her friends and
goes to class, but there’s less bounce in her step and her smile never reaches
her eyes anymore.
 
She often comes back
from lunch with red eyes and I feel terrible every time I see it.
 
Nothing I do now will change what I’ve
already done, so I ignored what I saw from her.

I focused everything on Sam.

While focused on her, I’m able to forget the
pain and sadness from James’ death.
 
While focused on her, I can ignore the feelings of regret and guilt over
what I did to Kate.
 
I can swallow my
anger and misplaced blame.
 
I can
shoulder what I need to survive and shrug off the unwanted and unneeded.

Sam has become my own version of a worry doll.

My crutch.

I grasp a handful of her shirt trying to stop
my overflowing emotions from tearing me apart.
 
I wail loudly into her chest and shake violently from my sobs.
 
She continues to rub my back and speak
soothing words into my ear.
 
The emotions
won’t stop.

I let everything go, all the emotion and pain,
all the guilt and sadness.

Everything falls away with the tears falling
across my cheeks.

Present Day

I take a few calming breathes as Mary and Nate
come rushing through the lobby.

“What happened?” Nate asks as soon as he’s close
enough.
 
I take a deep breath.
 
I’m pretty sure this is going to be easy to
tell them, but I’m also pretty sure it might be too much for Mary to
handle.
 
I debate whether to answer
him.
 
In the end, I figure
it’s
best just to get it over with.

“She opened her eyes,” I tell them.
 
Nate’s head shoots up to look down the
hall.
 
Mary looks happy and a sob escapes
her throat.
 
Nate turns back to me and
concern spreads across his face.

“What’s going on?” he asks.
 
I can’t look him in the eye.
 
Sam’s dead stare permanently burned itself
into my mind.
 
It’s haunting and makes me
more than a little scared to think about it — and what it might represent.
 
Mary picks up on my avoidance and calls me
gently.

“Alan,” she offers a tight small smile when I look
at her. “Tell us, please.”
 
I take one
last deep breath.

“Her eyes are empty.” Mary’s face falls and Nate
is unreadable.
 
I stand up and beckon
them to follow me and we enter her room moments later.
 
Kate is still in the room, but now she’s
sitting in the chair next to Sam and is stroking the back of her hand as she
softly talks to her.
 
Sam’s eyes are
still open but their emotion has remained unchanged.
 
My breathing is difficult; the air in the
room has gotten very thick.

Mary walks up to Sam and Kate to look into her
daughter’s eyes.
 
Whatever she sees in
them makes her break down and
cry
.
 
She almost collapses to the floor holding her
hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to hold in the sobs.
 
I knew seeing Sam like this would be tough
for her, Sam has been like a real daughter to her since she married into the
family.