|Father and Son (standard:drama, 1825 words)|
|Author: Calis||Added: Sep 13 2000||Views/Reads: 3063/1608||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A boy reads the letters that his dead father sent to his mother during the war.|
Father and Son On a warm summer's day on June 21st 1955 on a small street in the town of Fordyce, Arkansas, a small boy stood near the front of a massive brick house. Dwarfed by the size of the massive brick fortress, the boy stared up in awe at the large clear bay windows. They were twice as tall as he was and yet they were still as clear as a midnight sky over the cornfields of Iowa. The boy stared, trying to see what was just beyond his view. The intensity of his glare might have frightened some, for it looked like his eyes might spontaneously combust with the ferocity of his stare, but to those who knew him, he was just the boy from the small town in the heart of Arkansas. The boy continued to sit on that placid street, the black asphalt baking in the sun, oblivious to the world that surrounded him on all sides. He had not even noticed the man who had been sitting next to him for some time. The small boy raised his head up as if to look at the face of God, and looked into the man's eyes. "What are you doing here?" the boy asked. The man replied with words so soft and in such a whispered rasp that the small stream, which encompasses Fordyce, could have drowned out his words. "Why are you sitting here beside me here on the sidewalk?" the small boy asked. The man responded, but again it was impossible to hear. The boy gazed into the old man's wrinkled face and began to decide who this old man really was. The boy's eyes seemed to pierce into the man's soul. What he saw somewhat surprised him. The boy stirred, and then he looked again at the window he had been intensely staring at just moments before. The boy's body started to tremble, like he was on the verge of some medical emergency, and yet as soon as the tremors came, they were gone. The boy collected himself, and again began to contemplate what he had just seen. The old man seemed to be getting older by the very second. The lines under his eyes became more defined, the bags became larger, the eyes more sunken, and even the hair on his head seemed to recede just a little bit. Each moment on the sidewalk with the small boy made years of impressions on his body. The man decided to speak. In a soft, and tender tone the man began. "Who are you child, and why are you here?" "I am here because this is where I am needed to be," replied the boy. The boy did not know why he had said this; it just came to him as if it had been carried by the winds rushing up from Gulf of Texas. This time it was the man's turn to look at the boy. The man's face first showing a questioning glance, then it broadened into a smile. The smile seemed to crack the skin on the old man's withered face. Dust and age were discarded as the man smiled. The man had smiled, and it was obvious to the boy that the old man had not done this in too long a time. The smile was quickly wiped off the face of the old man. The man was completely within himself, remembering a time long ago. Feeling, and remembering. He now knew he had found who he was looking for, exactly as he had been told. He didn't know how he got here, twenty years before he was born, or how he would get back, but he had found his father, just as the voice had told him. The man motioned for the boy to follow him, and the boy promptly did so. Soon, they came to a park. Here, the green grass flowed like water, placid and calm, just waiting for someone to disturb it. It was here that they sat; the boy and the old man each in a world unto themselves. Suddenly, the boy moved his hand into his pocket. "Here," the boy said as he handed the old man a few sun-dried paper. "Take these and read them well, for they are what you have come for. They will provide you with the answers that you seek." The old man carefully took the five pieces of paper, and read. February 21, 1969 Dear Elizabeth: Today started off like any other day. Up at 0530, chow at 0600, and first formation at 0630 just as it has been for the last four months in Click here to read the rest of this story (126 more lines)
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Calis has 2 active stories on this site.
Profile for Calis, incl. all stories