by C.T. Millis
Chapter 13
Back at his house, James was laying on the floor in the living room imagining patterns in the bumps on the ceiling. The phone rang, and for the third time that day, James hid behind the couch as his mother called out for him. She gave up after a while and cooed into the phone to Sophie’s dad. James heard her say,
“I’m sorry Stephen, I think he’s out of the house again, maybe next time.” as if Sophie’s dad wanted to have a friendly chat with James. He crouched behind the couch, walked up to his room, anything to stay out of his mother’s sight when she was on the phone.
James spent the day looking through the boxes in one of the hall closets of legal documents. He found his birth certificate, his parent’s wedding certificate. There was a letter that he was avoiding, when he realized he would not be able to stop looking at the papers until he looked at that one, he pulled it out of the envelope.
The paper itself was thick. It was heavy with what seemed like the weight of the news it delivered, but was really just the fact the paper was closer to being construction paper than it was printer paper. It had a seal pressed firmly on one side. There were watermarks of eagles throughout it. The paper itself was already yellowing, and was not the gleaming white discarded on his dining room table when he came home from school the day his world changed.
James saw his own name, but knew it was his father’s. Senior. He never looked at the paper before. He meant to let it be. James started to wonder who killed his father, did his comrades kill the person who killed him, or did the person get away? James read the page several times.
The helicopter James’ dad was riding in had its radio out. Forces on the ground could not contact the swiftly approaching helicopter. There were several raids on aircraft over the previous month. James’ father’s allies shot the helicopter down, they had to identify the bodies by the dog tags they found littered about the crash site.
Everyone wanted James to be angry at someone, and it was some mistake. There was some mistake that changed everything for him, his mother. Sophie’s dad was not the kind of person James’ dad would even be friends with. The town changed their pity over James and his mother to sour judgment. The yellow ribbons faded, just as the memories had. James’ memories of his father were as lasting as the paper in his hands. Everything lined up in just the correct way to kill his father. The difference between a miracle and a tragedy was a radio signal, a lack of haste on the part of the ground forces. James always thought it was better to wait and see.
“James, James!” he heard his mother call, he swiftly put the letter back in the envelope, closed that in the box, and slid it back into the closet,
“Dinner!” James was relieved that Sophie’s dad was not around trying to bait him into some argument. He was almost comfortable the way they were before when Sophie’s dad was away. He could feel every molecule in his dinner that night.
