Short Story : ' The Soldier Who Is About My Dreams '

780 WordsFeb 22, 20164 Pages
As I calmed down, I thought about some of my friends. They took pictures of everything they saw. They wanted to remember Nam. They wanted their grandchildren to know about Nam. I never took pictures. I didn’t care about the landscape or the people. I just wanted to go home and began a life with a woman. I never told anyone about my dreams. In Nam I was afraid that to tell anyone about home. I thought it would mark me for death. It was like in the movies. The soldier who is about to die tells his best friend about his girl or his mother. He tells his comrade what he wants to do when he returns from war. In the next scene, he is killed. He is shot or falls on a hand grenade. Something bad happens. Call me superstitious, but I didn’t want to tempt the spirits to abandon me. Even in my hutch, I slept wearing my helmet. Walking into the kitchen for a beer, I stopped beside the window. I rubbed my hands over the scars left by my mother’s cleaver. I looked at the kitchen door before I looked out into the yard. The streetlights cast the shadow of my bird feeder. It was long, thin, and dark. A light snow was falling. I felt so lonely I wanted to call information just to hear a female voice. I wondered what will happen to me. Why wasn’t it enough to know that I had been willing to sacrifice my life for my buddies? If I couldn’t like myself, how could I find someone to like me? I didn’t know the answers to these questions, but I thought if I could find a woman, it would be like
Open Document