Chapter 12
February 17th, 2006
Eighteen years old
Marcy
Rain patters on the windows of the limousine as we drive through the city. The sky is gray and ominous, matching the emotions of the day. I try to hold back the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks, but it’s no use trying to contain them. They cascade down my face just like they have since I heard the news. The news that changed my life forever. How will I live without him?
School is finally over and it’s time for the weekend. Normally I don’t mind my classes but this week something was off with me. I wasn’t in the right mind frame to understand what the professors were teaching us. My thoughts often drifted to Matthew wondering what he was doing. I hadn’t heard from him in a month which was unlike him. We wrote letters and spoke on the phone whenever we could, but it was never enough. I wanted him home. I wanted him safe. Last night I called his forward operating base but they weren’t able to put me through to him. The operator tried several times at my request but the line wouldn’t connect so I gave up. I fell into restless sleep, tossing and turning with every boom of thunder.
Dropping my school bag by the door, I head to the kitchen to get a snack. The pantry is full, but nothing interests me. Feeling dejected, I grab a water bottle from the fridge then make my way up to my room. Before I hit the top floor landing, there’s a knock at the front door. Unease snakes up my spine as I jog back down the stairs. Mom and dad won’t be home for hours so I’m the only one here. Peering through the window, I see a large man dressed in a military uniform. He’s standing perfectly still with no emotions playing across his face. Before I close the blinds, a movement catches my eye. Sam is standing behind the other man donning the same uniform.
Without another thought I swing open the door, thrilled to see Sam as I take a step toward him. Heat courses through me at the sight of him in uniform. I expect him to come barreling into the house but he remains outside, a storm of emotions crashing through his eyes. My heart plummets into my stomach as I take a cautious step back looking at the other man. They both remove their hats placing them under their arms.
“Ma’am, I’m Commanding Officer Sanders. Are your parents home?” he speaks evenly as his eyes pierce through my soul. Unable to reply, I shake my head as tears well in my eyes. I look back to Sam but he remains motionless, so close yet so far away. The officer clears his throat, startling me but getting my attention. Panic rises to the surface as my body trembles in fear, chills coating my skin. My heart hammers in my chest as the officer opens his mouth to speak.
“It is with my deep regret and my greatest condolences to inform you that Specialist Hillary was killed in action. He was a true hero to his country that died serving his brothers in arms. He was a good man...” Officer Sanders voice trails off as my world begins spinning out of control. My mind feels like it’s been disassociated from my body. Nothing feels real. My legs begin trembling then give out completely. I feel my body falling, falling into a dark abyss. The ground doesn’t come for me, instead I feel familiar arms carrying my body as if I’m levitating through the air. There’s wetness on my face but I can’t move my hands to wipe it away. Sam’s beautiful face appears before blackness overcomes me and I’m swept away in a wave of shock.
The limousine pulls into the gated cemetery where most of the guests have already arrived. The driver parks while I stare out of the window at the bleak landscape. Matthew shouldn’t be here. He needs to be somewhere sunny and full of life, not in this cemetery that looks like it might be haunted.
Our driver opens the door for my parents then hands them a black umbrella. As I slide out of my seat, Sam appears holding an umbrella out for me. I should be drooling over the fact that he wore his military uniform but all it does is remind me that my brother isn’t here. Sam was the last to see him alive and although I don’t want to be, I’m jealous. Instead of handing the umbrella off to me, Sam holds it for the both of us as we make our way to the tents that have been set up.
“Marcy,” he rasps. He stops walking, then holds me steady so I don’t fall from the sudden halt. My eyes slowly trail up to his, not wanting to hear another apology or condolence. I won’t be able to take it, especially not from him. No one knows what I’m going through so I don’t want to hear how they’re all sorry for me. Sam’s eyes shine with unshed tears and something breaks inside me.
“Listen, I know you keep hearing this but I want you to know that I’m here for you. Always. If you need me, I’ll be there.” He wipes the tears from my face with the back of his hand. The gesture is something I’ve always dreamed of, but in this moment my stomach isn’t buzzing with butterflies. Instead a lump forms in my throat keeping me from responding. I see the understanding in his eyes and I’m thankful that he doesn’t expect a response from me. Sam nods his head, loops his arm back through mine then we continue walking toward the tented area where all my relatives along with all the people that Matthew”s death touched are awaiting the service
I take my seat in the front next to my parents but Samuel goes to stand with the other soldiers that are in attendance for Matthew’s funeral. We are asked to stand as the funeral begins.
A team of soldiers carries the casket and secures it in place before us. A beautiful American flag is carefully placed over the casket, then the team salutes Matthew before they step away. An Army Chaplain steps forward and begins his prepared speech. His voice trails off into the wind. I don’t hear the generic platitudes. My mind wanders to Matthew. Was he scared? Did he feel the pain? I don’t know all the details mostly because I didn’t think I could handle hearing them. They would haunt me in the darkest of nights.
Once the chaplain is finished, several officers go to the podium to give their speeches of how brave and gallant Matthew was, but we already knew this, didn’t we? He wanted to fight for his country after everything that happened on September 11, 2001. He knew the risks and he signed his name on the dotted line anyways. My chest aches when I think I’ll never see his goofy smile or feel his heavy arm draped across my shoulders. I stare down at my hands in my lap as the words from the officers’ drift away. I don’t want to be here. Seeing my brother lowered into the ground isn’t something I ever imagined I would witness, and yet here I am. I rise from my seat about to make a run for it through the rain when I lock eyes with Sam. He just approached the podium and his eyes tell me what I need to do. I slowly lower myself back in my chair as he gives me a slight nod that only I would catch. With rapt attention I listen to his eulogy of his best friend.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I stand here today to pay tribute to a true American hero, Specialist Hillary, who dedicated his life to serve our great nation. It is an honor and a privilege to stand before you to share some words that attempt to encapsulate the immense impact Matthew Hillary has had on all of us and the profound legacy he leaves behind.
Matthew Hillary and I met when we were in grade school. He and I grew up together, becoming more than friends, brothers. He may not have been blood but our bond was one to withstand any storm.” Sam pauses for a moment as he wipes tears from his eyes.
“Matthew died doing what he loved, caring for others. He was the most selfless person I’ve ever come to know. He would give you the shirt off his back if it meant that you would be taken care of. That was the kind of man he was. Always giving, he paid the ultimate price as he gave his life for us.
The day before we left for basic training, Matthew, Marcy and I took to the river to celebrate this new chapter in our lives and mourn the one we were leaving behind. We sailed along, cherishing the time we had together. That day will always hold a special place in my heart.
Marcy Hillary was her brother’s favorite person. He often called her his ‘sunshine’ because of the way she brightened his life.” I choke on a sob in my throat as Sam continues. “He was thinking of her to the very end.” I gasp as I let his words sink in. Did he say something to Sam?
“To our fallen hero, you may have departed from this world, but your legacy endures. You will forever remain in our hearts, a symbol of all that is noble and just, and a reminder of the price of freedom. Your wish will be done.” The last part is almost a hushed promise to Matthew but I heard it.
We stand as “Taps” begins playing over the loudspeaker, a hushed silence falls over the audience.
“Ready. Aim. Fire.” An officer commands as the twenty-one-gun salute commences. I knew it was coming but it’s much louder than I expected. As I stand there, the finality of the moment rushes over me, causing me to feel faint. My legs wobble but before I fall, Sam is there holding me up again. I didn’t even notice he’d moved but here he is coming to my rescue. I look up at his handsome face as tears trickle down my cheeks. I’m looking for answers. I’m looking for guidance on how I’m supposed to live without my brother, my best friend. He wipes the tears away then pulls me close. He stays by my side as the funeral comes to an end.
The casket team approaches from the side and begin to meticulously fold the American flag. It gets handed off to the Officer in Charge and he comes to present the flag to my grieving mother. She cries as she clutches the flag close to her chest. My father pulls her in close as they weep together at the loss of their son. I haven’t taken the time to see how much this affects them. I have been so caught up in my loss in all this.
Once everything is finalized, people begin to disburse as several wait their turns to extend their condolences. I can’t be here for this part. I need to get away. Samuel must sense my reticence as he takes my hand leading me from the tents. Before he can open an umbrella, I take off through the rain, loving the chill against my face. He catches up to me but instead of pulling me under an umbrella, he races into the rain with me. We arrive at the cars and I’m breathing heavy not from exertion but with everything going on in my life now.
27 years old
Samuel
In the midst of grief, I find solace in the rain, running alongside Marcy. The rain”s liberating touch seems to cleanse my shattered spirit. I can’t quite explain it, but Marcy had the right idea. I had to get away from there. I sensed her exhaustion from the situation, that’s why I pulled her along with me to head to the cars. She’s grown up so much from the time we left to now. She”s transformed from the little girl once in our shadows to a resplendent woman. She has so much fire in her, just like Matthew. The child I cherished has matured into a woman who evokes newfound emotions within me.
As my pulse races, I draw closer to Marcy, her back against the sleek limousine. Holding her face gently in my hands, I”m captivated by her emerald eyes, which hold a depth I long to explore. My thumbs brush away the raindrops on her cheeks, a futile effort as more droplets gather.
“Marcy,” I groan. Her warmth soaks into my body causing me to shiver but not from the temperature. Her eyes hold a fiery passion, locked onto mine. I bend toward her gradually, giving her a chance to stop me, yet she remains silent. Our lips brush as an electric pulse runs through me. It jumpstarts my heart, but in a fleeting moment, I detach myself from her. This was a mistake. I owe this much to Matthew.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” The moment hangs in the air, suspended between connection and departure. Her lips, warm and fleeting, left an imprint on mine—a promise unspoken, a question unanswered. I back away as I see the realization take over in her mind. She’s probably going to hate me but I have to get away. I vowed to take care of her, but not like this. She deserves so much better. Marcy holds her hand to her lips with fresh tears streaming down her face. I fucked everything up. With one last look at the gorgeous redhead before me, I turn and head toward my car.It takes immense willpower to avoid turning back to her, yet I grasp the importance of my decision. I can’t start something with her knowing I’ll be going back overseas. She’s already lost so much and I can’t bring myself to add to that.
With my hand on my car, I stand there, heart racing, caught between surprise and longing. Why did I kiss her? Why did I leave? The silence echoes, a void that begs for explanation. I chance a glance back but she is already disappearing, fading into the crowd, leaving me with nothing but the taste of her on my lips.