Andrea Perno
Teach, Write, Create
  • Home
  • Latest Books
    • The Last Drop (BOOK II )
    • Remotely Unplugged
    • Creative Blog
  • Artwork
    • Glassware
    • Illustration
    • Buy Online
  • Contact Me

The last drop

Picture
Interested? Read the first two chapters below for FREE!
Chapter 1

            
            I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror hardly recognizing myself. My dark, crew-cut hair is growing out all wrong. Even at 16, there’s a rough haze of stubble along my jaw and across my upper lip. I’ll have to shave before reporting. I balance my armpits on the tops of aluminum crutches and rake my fingers along my scalp watching my hair stand on end from sweat. It would feel amazing to splash cool water on my face and rinse the dirt from my skin but those days are gone. Water is too precious. The sink basin is dry and coated with a layer of sand and dirt like everything else in the house. I turn the knobs anyway and pretend water fills the basin before reaching for the powdered bathing substitute and electric shaver. I need to look and smell presentable today. Dad and Jeremy are returning from overseas. My older brother, Jeremy, won’t care what I look like but it wouldn’t be acceptable for the son of a prestigious military commander and esteemed biochemical engineer to have even one hair out of place.
             The thought of their return brings a nervous anxiety, which I try to evade by pressing the electric shaver into the cleft of my chin, daring the blades to cut me. I don’t want to think about what my father will do if this mission failed, too. No one on base will tell me anything substantial, but rumors say diplomacy is out the window. It explains why recruitment numbers are through the roof and why Jeremy doesn’t want me along for any missions. Thanks to him, I get another few weeks off before recruitment officers force me back into basic training. “Only had three days left, now I’ll have to start all over. Least you could’ve done was waited until I finished basic,” I whisper at the mirror.
            For just a moment, as the last bit of facial stubble falls into the sink, my reflection takes the form of Jeremy’s face. Striking blue eyes, prominent jaw line, he’s only two years older than I am but all I’d need is a good haircut and we’d be twins. Sighing, I shift weight off my broken leg to ease the throbbing pain. The heavy plaster cast encasing my left upper thigh down is a cumbersome reminder of Jeremy’s loyalty and love, however misguided. He was only doing what he thought was best, the only way he knew to keep me on base, but he had no right.
            “You’re a smart kid. You don’t have to be a grunt. Stay put. Go to class. Get your ass on the flight list outta here.” His voice fills my head as if he’s standing in front of me. But the flight list is a joke. Commanding officers like to dangle the hope of being hand selected for space settlement in front of students and soldiers as motivation. It works…mostly. Everyone wants out of our military base, Asik. Off Earth. I’m guessing I’m the exception. I don’t hold out much hope of a successful space settlement even though people rumor that habitable planets are out there. If we can’t fix what’s wrong with our own planet we’re doomed no matter where we wind up. Jeremy would be pissed to know that I requested transfer out of space academy though. Too bad. He doesn’t get to choose the life I lead. Brothers are supposed to protect each other. I’m supposed to be watching his six out there. Instead, I’m stranded here nursing a fractured femur. Jerk!   
            I finish shaving and attempt to move quietly past my other brother and sister’s bedrooms. The uneven metallic clomp of my crutches on the linoleum floor is less than subtle. Thankfully, neither of them wakes. I’m not in the mood to deal with Jace’s overly optimistic 10-year-old banter. And my older sister, Caileen, has been more than nurturing to whatever needs and limitations she now thinks I have, whether physical or mental. I’m just not up for it.
             I trudge past my own bedroom door and slip into Jeremy’s room. Grabbing clothing off the floor, I tug on a pair of digitized camouflage trousers and a tan t-shirt. It feels strange to put on and lace up only one steel-toed boot, but with it on, my feet are nearly equal in weight. It’s almost like my leg isn’t broken in three places and the cast is gone. Until I shift my weight and the bones grind mercilessly. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I reluctantly hunch back down on my crutches. Before plodding out of the room, I grab my Corridor Access and Readout Display Device, or as soldiers call it, the CARDD, from the bedside table. As quietly as I can, I maneuver down the narrow hallway toward the front door.
            “A bit early in the morning to be leaving, don’t you think?” My mother’s quiet accusing voice from the kitchen table makes me cringe. It was too much to hope that I’d get out of the house without having to talk to anyone. Mom hasn’t slept right in nearly a week since she learned dad would be coming home. I should’ve known she’d be sitting up. I look longingly at the front door, but instead move into the kitchen. Mom rises to flick on the wall light. Still in her nightclothes, her long hair tangled in a messy braid. Deep purple rings under striking green eyes accentuate her anxiety.
            “Sorry, Mom. I just need to…”
            “It’s okay,” she waves a hand so I don’t have to finish. I shoot her a confused look but she ignores it. “Give them this for me.” She opens a cabinet beside me and pulls out a small black book bag. It feels light, empty, except that the contents shift with a quiet rustle as I sling the bag onto my back. “Don’t be gone long. I don’t know what time your father is coming home. We need you here today.”
            I nod and kiss her cheek. “I’ll be here.”
            “You’re a good boy, Avery. Jeremy will be so proud to know you’re doing this.” She hugs me tightly around my neck before letting me go and settling back into a chair at the kitchen table.
            I latch the front door behind me and take a deep breath. I’ve been so careful. How can she know where I’m going? I try to shake off the nervousness that’s now invaded my stomach. It’s early and the sun hasn’t yet risen. The odd off-color orange glow is just beginning to emerge over the repulsive concrete walls surrounding Asik’s military base. For just a moment, the light coming over the wall blends with the sand and dirt drifting against the concrete and the barrier is gone. What would it be like with no walls? My hands grip the lower handles on the crutches a little tighter. You know the answer to that question. 
            I watch the sun rise a little more and the wall defiantly comes back into view. Instinctively I scan the area before clumsily navigating the steep set of cellar stairs next to our house. No one is around. Not that anyone would be able to see or hear me anyway. One of the advantages of dad being a commander is we get officer housing on base. It’s a little better than the cookie-cutter neighborhoods where the houses are so close together you can hear your neighbor snoring at night. Our home is at the edge of Asik tucked right into rolling sand dunes. The houses of other military families are not far from ours, still within sight, but we’re afforded a little more privacy.
            At the bottom of the cellar steps, I punch in a code and a huge metal door swings inward. I lean the crutches against a counter and sling the backpack down. Yanking the pull chain attached to the hanging light, I quickly rummage the shelves sliding canned goods toward the bag. I grab a little bit of everything, including cans labeled fruit, beans, and the like. I snatch a gallon jug of water from our reserves and drop it next to the bag with a thump. I’m about to reach for a second gallon but think better of it. Our water rations look surprisingly low and there will be two more bodies tonight. The water supply should be greater with dad and Jeremy gone and I rack my brain trying to think if I’ve been using more water than normal. I quickly give up. The sun will be up in an hour and soldiers will be making their rounds. I need to be finished by then. One gallon will have to be enough. I hobble back to my crutches and start shoving supplies into the backpack. It’s only then that I notice the strawberries freshly packaged in a suctioned airtight bag.
            “Christ Mom,” I curse under my breath and cast a cautious glance over my shoulder even though the heavy lead door is closed behind me. I shove the bag deep inside the backpack and bury it with the other supplies. No wonder our water rations look low. It would take nearly all of dad and Jeremy’s rations to grow fresh fruit like this. Where did she even get the seeds? If the government knew she was using water rations to grow food without a permit, she could face jail time, even be exiled from base.
            I’m contemplating destroying the fruit when a satisfying thought pops into my head. What a kick in the face it would be if the government knew food grown on base without a permit was being smuggled directly to the outsiders they refuse to provide rations to. Mom’s subtle act of defiance suddenly feels liberating.
            I throw the backpack over one shoulder, clomp up the steps and cut through the drifting sand in our backyard toward the guard tower. It’s about a mile and a half hike to the barrier at the edge of Asik where the south guard tower stands. During the day, the hike would be brutal, especially on crutches, but the sun isn’t up and there’s still a comfortable chill to the desert air.
            When I’m a few paces from the tower, a hostile voice hisses from inside my pants pocket, “Can you move any slower?”
            I grumble and yank my CARDD from my pocket. Bruce’s flushed face on the screen is annoyed.
            “Shut up, Bruce. You’d be slow, too, if you were crippled. Just have the gate open.”
            “You sure you want to do this? Jeremy’s due back in like−” 
            “Shut up. I can do it.”
            “Fine. You better make it fast, gimpy. Patrol goes out in half an hour,” Bruce says pushing a button on the device so the gate dematerializes.
            “Right,” I shove past him and head straight across the room, around the center security desk to the gate directly opposite the one I came through. It’s the only other barrier between the military base and what lies beyond. Bruce grabs one of my crutches and I nearly eat floor trying to keep my balance on the polished marble.
            “What the fu−”
            “Dude,” Bruce snaps, his dark eyebrows knitting in frustration. He presses a handful of letters into my hands. “I’ve got people out there, too, remember.”
            “Right. Sorry.” I dip my head but keep moving. I should show more respect. Bruce was my superior at the beginning of basic. He, his father and twin brother, were summoned away right at the beginning of training to lead a mission in Brazil. Bruce was the sole survivor. He still refuses to talk about what went down out there. His uncle is the only one that really knows. He raised a big stink about what happened to Bruce, but it only got him kicked off base. That left Bruce alone with no other family members aside from an elderly grandmother with severe dementia. The only reason he stayed was so she’d still have family ties to the military and a safe place to sleep. She’d be thrown out in a heartbeat if he left. The decision to stay has weighted heavily on Bruce. Now he’s just another rifle-carrying body on base that will occasionally turn a blind eye to what I’m about to do. Hell, Bruce practically begged me a week ago. Jeremy would be the one to do this kind of reckless stuff, but with him gone . . . Bruce and I both know it’s illegal, but we also both have people on the outside now.
            My teeth grind thinking about it. It’s a death sentence beyond the walls since the military controls and distributes food and water. Only essential personnel working on base get any aid. It’s just one of the messed up ways people are forced to work for the army. They don’t even need to instate a draft. Just leave people without water beyond the gates for whatever act they deem defiant. It’s a simple matter of survival.
             “You get me a vehicle?”
            “Already out there,” Bruce says, punching in code on his CARDD. The gate at the other end of the room disappears revealing a tan dune buggy. I pass Bruce my crutches, hop into the driver’s seat and prop my bad leg up on the frame. A large brown box on the passenger seat lets me know Bruce isn’t the only one trying to get supplies to outsiders. I point to it and raise my eyebrows.
            “Like I said, you’re not the only one with people on the outside. But patrol won’t look the other way for long, so move your ass.”
            “Thanks.” Sand spits behind thick rubber tires as I gun the engine toward the sprawling city, which is emerging from the sand dunes in the distance.
            It only takes me a few minutes to hit what used to be Main Street. Now the road is just a bit of cracked asphalt covered with dirt and sand. Walls of trade buildings, restaurants and shops are eroded and desolate. I crank the wheel right and spin up an alley hung with heavy opaque plastic tarps used to keep out the blowing sand. Batting the plastic away with one hand, I drive straight through a blue plastic tarp into a building that used to serve as the Army Federal Bank. Outsiders use the AFB’s locked vaults as a safe place to sleep and store supplies. I know I’ll find Aunt Sara and Uncle Jim here.
            Killing the engine, the vehicle skids to a stop near the center of room. It’s eerily silent. All but one of the florescent light panels above me is burnt out. The remaining one flickers with a nauseating strobe. Outside, a distant helicopter’s blades cuts the air with an unnerving chopping sound. I resist the urge to check my CARDD and see if it’s arriving or departing. Maybe it’s Jeremy and dad. I need to make this a quick trip in case it is.
            A soft click behind me makes me flinch.
            “Hands above your head kid,” a raspy voice coughs at me.
            “Put the gun down, Jim. It’s Avery for God’s sake.” I recognize Aunt Sara’s voice. She and a small group of men with rifles and handguns step out of the shadows. Uncle Jim lowers his weapon, but it’s clear he doesn’t trust me. By the look on his face, I’m not sure he even recognizes me. His swollen red eyes dart from Aunt Sara to me, to the men around him and back again. He’s not the same strong man that served for my father a year ago. Now he’s gaunt, confused and breathes with staggered, labored breaths. Jim, caught in an explosion during a mission in the Middle East, breathed explosive material laced with titanium. The metal tore his lungs apart and reduced him to a severe asthmatic with heavy metal poisoning. The Army investigated and faulted Jim for the explosion. No longer fit for any military duties, he and Aunt Sara were removed from base. Mom tried to convince dad not to approve their removal but he wouldn’t give in. Mom’s never forgiven him.   
            Aunt Sara throws her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek. I try to ignore how bony and frail her arms feel. I quickly pass her the backpack and gallon of water but she hands them behind her to someone and hugs me again.
            “How are you? How’s your mother? You look well. Jace and Caileen, are they well? Jeremy, will he be coming back soon? Have you heard anything?”
            She’s asking too many questions all at once. At the mention of Jeremy’s name, butterflies swarm in my stomach. I look beyond Aunt Sara. Dozens of faces peek out from the shadows of the room waiting with bated breath to hear if I’ve heard anything. All seem anxious to hear if Jeremy will be back soon. That’s really the only question they want answered. Suddenly I feel very guilty. I didn’t bring enough food or water. Not for all of them. Jeremy would’ve brought twice the supplies. He should be here, not me. It was stupid to think I could carry the torch for him while he’s gone.
            “I’m sure he’ll be back in no time.” I hand her the box in the passenger seat and tell her that I have to leave right away since patrol will be going out shortly. She looks disappointed, but wishes me well and presses a folded paper into my hand.
            “For your mother,” she says.
            “Right, I’ll make sure she gets it.” Aunt Sara hugs me one last time.
            The tires on the dune buggy squeal as I tear out of the AFB. I punch the plastic sheeting out of the way angrily. It was stupid to think I could make any kind of difference for them. Those supplies won’t last them a day. I’m not even sure how they’re still alive. Good thing Jeremy will be back soon. I slam the gas pedal to the floorboards and feel the dune buggy surge as it skips and dips through the sand. My cast bounces painfully on the metal frame but right now, I welcome the excruciating lightning bolts of pain zinging through each broken bone. I’d do anything to get Uncle Jim and Aunt Sara’s desperate, starved, sunken features out of my head.
            I’m back at the south guard tower watching the gate dematerialize in minutes. Bruce is waiting for me and hands me my crutches. “What is it?” He asks reading my sour look.
            “Nothing, there’s just a lot more of them than I thought.”
            Bruce nods. “Did you give him my letters?”
            “Aunt Sara will make sure he gets them,” I say walking around him to the security desk so I can punch in for my two-hour shift.
            Bruce puts an arm up to stop me, “Nope, not today. Commander Zimmerman just pinged me looking for you.”
            “What?”
            Bruce shrugs, “I tried to tell him you weren’t part of space training anymore, but he wouldn’t hear it. He said to send you his way when you checked in.”
            “Great,” I groan.
            “Hey, you should be happy you’re still being considered. You have a shot of getting out of here.”
            “You’re starting to sound like my brother,” I grumble entering code on my CARDD that will call a transport vehicle. “You know what? Forget it. I’ll drive myself,” I say swiping the code away with my index finger. I hobble back through the gate and throw my crutches into the passenger seat of the dune buggy. Bruce shoots me a look of disapproval as I violently shift into high gear. It’s a 30-minute drive across base to the space agency. I intend to do it in 15.  I don’t have the time or the patience today to deal with Zimmerman’s space training nonsense.
            Despite Zimmerman directly contacting Bruce, no one seems to know I’m coming. When I drop Zimmerman’s name at each checkpoint, none of the security officers can get him on his CARDD to verify his appointment with me. With no response from Zimmerman, getting through the checkpoints is a nightmare. I’ve been deleted from the space roster so none of my retinal or fingerprint scans work. All my access data has to be re-installed on my CARDD as if I’m a brand new cadet all over again. By the time I make it to the fourth and final security checkpoint, I’m fuming. So much for a quick trip!            
            Sweaty and exhausted from hobbling around on crutches and waiting for security to process my request for access to this part of the military installation, I gladly welcome the rush of cool air from the pressurized chamber doors leading into the building lobby. I shut my eyes and linger between the doors letting the air dry some of my sweat. When I open my eyes and cross the threshold, Jeremy is leaning nonchalantly against the lobby desk at the center of the room, chatting with a female receptionist. My stomach hits the floor.
 
Chapter 2

             The woman behind the desk sees me enter and blasts me with the charming welcome look she’s trained to give everyone who walks through the door. Her pause makes Jeremy turn.
            I want to disappear, fade into the walls, and be sucked away like the air in the pressurized doors. I’m not prepared for him to be here. We regard each other in stoic silence and a surge of suppressed anger rises. How can he be standing here in the lobby chatting with the receptionist like he wasn’t gone for several weeks? Doesn’t he know I had to take care of mom, the kids . . . everything? I’m not supposed to be in Asik, I was supposed to go, too. I huff out the breath of air I’ve been holding and release the death grip I have around my crutches.
            Jeremy cocks his head and gives me a stupid, yet oddly comforting, half smile that I’ve been missing for weeks and my anger fades. My brother, my best friend, and a person I can truly trust. He’s here again, alive. Everything is going to be okay. I’ll never tell him how much I missed him, or how glad I am that he’s back. Instead, I give him a disapproving scowl and look him up and down. His skin is a deep reddish brown from sun exposure and multiple bruises in various stages of healing decorate his face and arms. A nasty gash on his temple is bound to scar from poor stitching. He sees me looking at it and presses a hand over the wound.
            “Just a beauty mark in a few more days,” he chuckles.
             Three fingers on his hand are missing fingernails and I don’t want to think about how he lost them. “Beauty mark, my ass! Christ, Jeremy!  What the hell happened to you?” I say crutching my way to him.
             “Long story,” he shrugs and closes the distance to meet me.
            We throw our arms around each other in a massive, bone-crushing, hug. Jeremy grabs my upper arms and thumps his forehead against mine. “I missed you, kid.” 
            “I could’ve gone with you. If you hadn’t paid off Robertson to drop me from the rappel tower you wouldn’t have had to miss me.”
             “You want to look like this, too, huh?” He says sarcastically.
            “Ah, I bet ‘you should’ve seen the other guy.’ Am I right?” I try to make it sound like a joke, but Jeremy doesn’t crack a smile. He looks off into the distance like he’s thinking hard about something and his fingertips dig painfully into my arms.
            “You didn’t tell anyone what Robertson did. Did you?” Jeremy pulls me away from the front desk so the receptionist won’t hear.
            “No . . . No way. That would get him thrown out.”
             Jeremy sighs with relief and loosens his grip. “Robertson’s a good man. He wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
            “He didn’t have to. I found my mission papers crumpled in your room. You know, opening someone else’s mail is a federal offense. I just happen to accidently break my leg right before being assigned to the same operation as you? Bit of a coincidence don’t you think? You’re lucky there wasn’t a full-blown investigation. It could be your ass on the outside with Aunt Sara and Uncle Jim.”
            “I did what I had to do to get you back on track. But you’re supposed to stick with the space agency. Seriously, what’s gotten into you? Working security?”
            “Until my leg is good enough to complete basic.”
            Jeremy sucks in a frustrated breath and looks at the ceiling. “Do I have to break your other leg, too? You know how many strings I had to pull to get you here−”
            “I didn’t ask you to do that. You need me to watch your back. Christ, Jeremy, you look like Frankenstein. Mom’s going to freak when she sees you.”
            “Watch my back? So you can get hurt, too? Maybe even killed? Who will that leave to take care of Jace and Caileen and mom?”
            “Caileen could . . .”
            “Caileen could what? I nearly got killed out there. If I die, if you die . . . People are being killed, Avery. No one has a good solution to this mess. No one wants to give up the rights to their water. They don’t even want to share. Shit is hitting the fan over all this. Look, Jace is too young for recruitment. Caileen would be the only other person who could sign up so that the family could live on base. Can you picture her in basic? Boy, I bet she’d be the perfect person to go out and shoot people. You aren’t even fit to do that.”
            My teeth grind in opposition, but I know he’s right about Caileen. Basic training would eat her alive. She wouldn’t have the guts to shoot someone. It has to be me that stays behind.
            “Look, I know you’re against the space program but it’s our best bet. You think it’s bad in Asik? You think the outsiders living just beyond our walls have it bad? I already talked to Bruce, so I know you’ve been out there…”
            “Bruce? You’ve talked to Bruce? How long have you been back?”
            “A few days.”
            “God, Jeremy. A few days! What the hell! Does mom know? When were you going to tell us?”
            “It doesn’t matter. Probably won’t be staying here for long anyway with the way things are going. Look, what matters is you get back on the space settlement list.”
            “Why’s that so important to you? What aren’t you telling me?” I yell at him.
            Jeremy glances at the receptionist who’s beginning to eye us suspiciously. “Stop shouting,” Jeremy whispers and walks me farther away from the lobby desk. “If you’re chosen, the rest of the family gets to go. Don’t you get that? Look, if you knew half the shit that’s going down right now you’d be begging to leave.”
            “If it’s so damn important to you, why aren’t you trying to get on the list?”
            “You think I haven’t?” Jeremy gives me a pained look. He’s easily smart enough and he’s in great physical condition. It makes no sense. Zimmerman should be standing on his head to have a person like Jeremy. Then it hits me.
            “Dad didn’t approve it?”
            “I’m his right hand man,” Jeremy scoffs. “If he only knew, right?” Jeremy’s lips curl in a devious grin and I can’t help but smile back. He’s opposed pretty much everything dad’s put in place. Jeremy doesn’t support recruiting hundreds of men to use for missions and he helps sneak food to the outsiders. By how smoothly things went with this morning’s supply drop, Jeremy’s got a whole crew of people on base working covertly against our father.
            “So, if you’re his right hand man, you must know what’s going to happen next.”
            Jeremy runs a palm across the top of his shaved head. “Let’s just say our trade didn’t exactly go as planned.” He sucks in a breath and gives me a serious look that makes my stomach drop again. “This is why you need to get your act together. Today!  The shit storm is coming and it won’t be long until it hits home.”
            Jeremy is about to say something else when his CARDD squeals wildly. He takes it out of his pocket, glances at the screen then quickly slides it back into his pants. He looks past me. His nostrils flair and his jaw bulges as he clenches his teeth.
            “What is it?”
            “Nothing you need to worry about,” he flashes what he thinks is a reassuring smile and pulls me in for another hug. “I’ll be by the house to see everyone tonight.”
            “What about dad?” I can’t keep the nervousness out of my voice.
            “Tell mom not to worry. I’m guessing he’s going to be tied up for the foreseeable future.”
            I try to ask him another question but he won’t hear it. “Tomorrow, where are you reporting?”
            “Here,” I grumble.
            Jeremy pushes me out of the hug. “Don’t sound so sour about it, kid. People need you here. Besides, it will be easy as pie to get to this checkpoint now that your data is in the system again. Zimmerman will be waiting for you tomorrow. Don’t be late.” Jeremy gives me a wink.
            This was his plan all along. He set it up with Bruce and had him lie about Zimmerman wanting to see me. He probably even had Bruce plant the seed on purpose that it should be me to make the supply drop to the outsiders in Jeremy’s place. That way Jeremy can be sure I’ll pick up where he leaves off if he’s killed. 
            “You set this up. You set me up.”
            “Not set up. Set straight. Everyone has a purpose. When I’m gone, this is your purpose. Take care of the family any way you can. If that means sneaking food to them, you do it. If that means working somewhere you don’t want to, you suck it up and do it anyway. Family is everything. When a member strays, sometimes you have to pick them up and literally put them on the right path again.”
            “You really believe you can do that? Think you can do that with dad?” I say sarcastically. 
            “I’m still working on it.” 
            “Yeah? What if I don’t believe it will work? What if I think the space program is bullshit? What if we make the same mistakes on another planet?”
            “Relax, kid. You’ll do the right thing. Don’t let them make the same mistakes.” Jeremy cups the back of my head in his hand and pulls my forehead to his. “Listen to me very carefully. Bad things are going to happen, sooner than you think. Jace and Caileen, people are going to need hope. This building that you’re standing in right now, this is hope. Whether you believe it or not. Now get home.” He slides away from me to the exit but then turns back around. “And another thing, I better not see your name on the security roster again. I’m serious; I’ll break your other leg, too.” He smiles and takes off at a jog through the door.
            When he leaves the room, it’s like he’s shipping off overseas all over again. He takes everything with him. I want to run after him, follow him where ever he’s going, but my body feels heavy and my legs feel weak. The only thing keeping me from falling on my face is my crutches. Looking down at my feet, the ground seems much farther away than it should. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. Do the right thing? I don’t know what the right thing is.
            I look over at the receptionist. She isn’t smiling anymore. I give her a halfhearted wave and hobble out the exit toward home.
            When I get back to our house, Caileen is trying to corral Jace. He’s flitting around the house swiping a dust rag across surfaces in a way that sends more sand and dust into the air than onto the cloth. Mom is buzzing around behind them barking orders.
            “This house has to be spotless before your father gets here.”
            I see mom’s nervous anxiety and go to her. “Mom?” She turns to me and what’s left of the color fades out of her face.
            “I got the call. They’re coming home tonight. The house, it’s not ready,” she says nervously and starts to give another order. 
            “Mom,” I touch her arm. “Mom, it’s okay, it’s only Jeremy tonight,” I whisper.
            She whips her head in my direction.
            “It’s only Jeremy,” I tell her again and watch relief spread across her face. She sighs and drops down on the living room couch exhausted.
            “What about your father?”
            “Jeremy doesn’t think he’s coming home. Not for a while.”
            “Why isn’t dad coming home?” Jace pipes up. I didn’t know he was listening.
            “He’s . . . got important business to take care of sweetie,” mom says soothingly.
             “Oh. I wish he was coming home. I miss him,” Jace doesn’t hide his disappointment.
            Caileen and I exchange a glance. We’ve done our best to make sure Jace has as little contact with our father as possible. The mere fact that dad’s hardly ever around is a blessing. Jace barely knows the man and we intend to keep it that way.
            “Come on, we have to get the rest of this house clean.” Caileen says swatting Jace’s butt with her own dust rag. Her distraction incites a playful war with Jace loping after Caileen, swinging his own dust rag.
             “So you saw Jeremy then? How is he?” Mom asks when Jace is out of the room.
            “Fine,” I lie and give her a hug. “I better make sure those two don’t make a bigger mess, huh?” Mom tips her head in acknowledgment. I just can’t bring myself to tell her that Jeremy looks like hell. It wouldn’t change anything anyway.
            For the next four hours, we clean the house regardless of dad coming home. It’s just something to keep Mom occupied and not thinking about him being in Asik. When missions go badly dad has a way of taking it out on mom . . . or anyone within striking distance. Not this time. Caileen and I have planned it out. If things start to go badly, she’ll distract Jace and take him to the cellar. They can lock themselves inside and set a security code so no one can get in from the outside. Jeremy and I will take care of mom. But dad won’t be coming home, I remind myself. Nothing bad will happen.
            The sun is just beginning to set when Jeremy arrives. Just as he said, he comes alone. Mom is overjoyed to see him, but hovers about his head analyzing each bruise and cut. She orders Caileen to fetch the medical kit and won’t hear a word from him until she’s had a chance to properly address his injuries. Jeremy sits patiently and tells pleasant stories to Jace and Caileen about the people he met overseas while Mom dabs medicine on his face. He skillfully avoids any questions Jace asks about how he got cut up by weaving harmless anecdotes about animals and clumsy accidents. I can’t tell for sure if Jace buys it all, but Caileen and I “oooo” and “ah” at appropriate moments and mom lectures him about trying to be more careful.
            The rest of the night consists of eating a less than appetizing MRE style meal, swapping stories and playing games that Jace invents out of household items. Jace loves to invent riddles and challenges and watch people solve them. It’s like old times before basic training, before dad became a power-hungry commander in charge of all of Asik and Jeremy started going on missions with him. It’s good to see mom with a smile on her face again. Jace and Caileen’s playful banter makes everyone laugh and, for a moment, everything is right in the world. I wish I could freeze time.
            Unfortunately, no such technology exists to freeze time. Jace and Caileen tire quickly. Mom shuffles them off to bed and kisses Jeremy and I goodnight. She looks exhausted. With all of her children safely home, perhaps tonight she’ll get a decent sleep. I hear the click of her door close and the squeaking of rusty springs as she climbs into bed. I follow Jeremy to his bedroom and flop down on his mattress.
            “Like what you’ve done with the place,” he says glancing at my clothing strewn around his room. When he left, his room slowly, subconsciously became my own. He pulls a pair of jeans off the lamp and lets them fall to the floor, before sighing and settling onto the bed beside me.
            “I missed you, too, kid,” he says knowingly and punches me in the ribs. I punch him back and bite the inside of my cheek to keep any kind of emotion from showing. I want to ask him a million questions about what happened while he was gone and what's going to happen now that he’s back. Instead, I keep my questions to myself.
            We lie shoulder to shoulder staring at the ceiling until sleep finally finds us.


    Let me know what you think. Love it? hate it? I would love feedback

Submit
Proudly powered by Weebly