The Note
Page 23

 Teresa Mummert

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“Okay, what gives?” I asked as I picked up my fork and took a bite of egg.
“This happens all of the time and it really is nothing to worry yourself over,” she said. Jake was coming from the hallway leading to the bedrooms, and May motioned for him to join us.
“You’re scaring me.” I set the fork down and sat back in my chair.
“We aren’t used to this either. They don’t happen that often,” Jake explained, as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Used to what?” I asked, hoping they would clarify so I could relax.
“I received an e-mail,” said May, as she fidgeted with her hands.
“An e-mail?” I repeated.
“A warning that a red message would be coming.”
“What does that mean?” I sat forward, the smell of the food suddenly turning my stomach.
May and Jake exchanged concerned looks before Jake spoke up.
“Someone was injured or killed,” he said, his voice wavering as my vision clouded over with tears. I clutched my belly as the world around me began to spin.
“Oh…that is why Shane hasn’t called. He is hurt!”
“No! They shut the phones and Internet down for a blackout so they can notify the family before rumors spread.
“Oh, God. What would I do without him?”
May was at my side, taking me in her arms for a hug as my imagination raced. I couldn’t fathom losing Shane. My entire world revolved around him. Our baby, our son, wouldn’t even get to meet him.
“Shane will be fine.” Jake tried to reassure me, but it was useless. My heart would cease to beat without him.
“We want you to stay here until this is over.” May stroked my hair.
“How long?” I stared off at the food in front of me.
“Usually around three days. If you didn’t hear from him yesterday, this is day two. If we are lucky, we will know something by tomorrow.”
I didn’t know if I would make it another minute let alone an entire day of not knowing if Shane was okay.
“I left Roxy at home.” My voice was oddly calm as I tried to sort through what all of this meant in my head. “I promised him I would take care of her.”
“I’ll get Roxy.” Jake patted me on the shoulder. “She can stay in the backyard.”
I nodded as the boys began fighting down the hall.
“Boys! That’s enough! We have company,” May called after them. I couldn’t help but smirk.
“Boys are a handful, huh?” I asked as I rubbed over my stomach.
“All their lives,” she sighed as she stood and held out her hand for me. I took it and we walked into the living room. I fell back onto the couch as everything I knew fell apart.
“How about we have a game night? The boys would love it. We could play cards, and I could make that cheese dip you like.”
“What if he doesn’t come back?” I asked, my voice barely making a sound.
“He’s coming back to you, Jenn. He made you a promise, and that man does not break his promises.”
I nodded as I stared off at the television. My imagination was running wild. I couldn’t picture a world without him in it. I was terrified to be a mother, let alone a single mother. We haven’t had enough time. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.
“I don’t know what to do,” I mumbled to myself. May grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
“All we can do is wait.” I could tell she was just as scared as I was.
“I didn’t even get to tell him that we are having a son.”
“You will get to tell him when he calls tomorrow.”
When Jake finally returned with Roxy, I followed them into the backyard. All I could do was keep my promises to Shane. I sat down on their wooden deck and wrapped my arms around our dog, crying into her fur. May tried to convince me to come inside, even bribing me with my favorite foods, but I couldn’t let go of the one thing that connected me to Shane. My hand fell to my stomach. Two things.
She finally stopped asking after a few hours and brought my meals to the deck, sitting down beside me to eat. She didn’t say anything and I was thankful. I couldn’t manage a conversation while my world was falling apart around me.
She grabbed my plate and paused for a moment before retreating inside. My back was aching from sitting on the wooden planks but I felt like if I gave up and went inside, I would be giving up on Shane. As the sun set, the backdoor opened again.
“I’m fine,” I sighed as I ran my hand over Roxy’s back.
“You’re not fine.” My sister sat down next to me as she stared off into the yard. “I never told you this, but I have always been jealous of you.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes as I looked over at her.
“You are naturally beautiful and funny…you have everything.”
“I may have lost it all…” My voice faded off as a lump formed in my throat.
“I know I am probably the last person you want to see right now.”
I cut my eyes to her as Thomas entered my mind and she let out a nervous laugh.
“Second to last person. But it’s better late than never, right?”
I nodded. All of this was too much to take in.
“I’m glad you came,” I said, bumping my shoulder against hers. She draped her arm over my shoulder and pulled me against her side as we stared off into the now dark yard.
“Mom and Dad are inside.”
I pushed up from the deck and stood, brushing off my bottom before I held out a hand to my sister. She took it with a smile and let me pull her up. Her arms flew around my neck and she hugged me. I let my eyes fall closed as I squeezed her back.
“Geez, Jenn, you are getting fat.” She laughed and I pulled back from her, playfully swatting her arm.
“Don’t make me laugh.” I wiped my cheeks as I continued to giggle.
“He would want you to be laughing right now. Come on.” She looped her arm in mine and guided me back inside the house to my parents who sat waiting for me on the couch.
Jenn
August 16, 2010
“Jenn! Honey, wake up!” May was rubbing my shoulder and I sat up, remembering I had fallen asleep on her couch. Gail woke at the sound of her voice and sat up quickly.
“What is it? Is it Shane?”
“I just got the e-mail.” She took my hand and pulled me from the couch. I followed her to her kitchen table, feeling as though I were an inmate walking to my execution. Her laptop was booted up with an open e-mail on the screen. I glanced over my shoulder to Gail, who was chewing on her lip nervously. Jake came from the hallway, practically sprinting.
“What is it?” he asked as I took a deep breath and clicked on the e-mail titled “Red Message.”
At approximately 5:30AM North Carolina time on August 13, Pvt. Ryan Owens, Field Artillery 18th FA BDE, lost his life in defense of our nation in Iraq. Pvt. Owens joined the Brigade in February of 2010. He has served with honor and distinction and will be missed by all in Task Force Hawk and the Patriot Brigade. This American Hero will never be forgotten. We ask that you keep his family in your thoughts and prayers. All next of kin have been notified.
We join the Family of Pvt. Owens in mourning his loss and they will remain in our thoughts and prayers. The FRG will contact you if they require your assistance. Please respect the Families of these heroes by not spreading rumors.
I cried out as I read the name. My Shane was safe. Arms wrapped around me from all directions as we hugged and gave thanks for another day. As the words played over in my head, I pulled back as a wave of sickness washed over me.
“Owens,” I said as I stared at the screen. “Shane’s best friend is Owens. What is his first name?”
“I’m not sure. He only refers to him by his last name,” May said as her fingers played nervously with the cross that hung around her neck.
I hoped that it was not the same person. Shane would need me more than ever. I had no way to call him, to hold him.
“One thing at a time,” May said as she ran her hands through my hair. “Shane is safe. Let’s focus on that for now. We won’t know anything until he calls.”
I nodded but there was no way I could think of anything else.
Two hours went by, two excruciatingly long hours, before my cell phone rang.
“Shane?” I put my hand over my other ear so I could hear him.
“It’s me,” he said and my heart sank into my stomach. I knew.
“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“I couldn’t save him.” His voice broke.
“It’s not your fault.”
There was a long pause before he sucked in a harsh breath and spoke.
“It was my job to have his back.”
I closed my eyes as I sank down to my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs.
“Sometimes bad things happen—” He cut me off before I could finish.
“That’s bullshit!” he said through clenched teeth. “The only reason he is dead is because I didn’t do my job.”
“No one thinks that, Shane.”
“I think that, Jenn.”
Shane
August 19, 2010, Near Ft. Hood, Texas
“How are you feeling?” I stood outside of the hotel in my dark green class A uniform.
“I’m fine. How are you?” Jenn worried her lip as her free hand fell to her belly.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“It’s impossible not to. Oh!”
“What, did something happen? Is it the baby?”
I laughed as she squealed into the phone.
“I think he just kicked!”
I smiled and closed my eyes, resting my head against the wall, careful to keep my uniform from touching the surface.
“I wish I could see you.”
“Not much longer.” She sighed as she rubbed her hand over her stomach. “Will you call me after…” She let her voice trail off, not wanting to even say the word funeral.
“I’ll try. It’s gonna be a long day.”
“I’m here if you need anything. You can talk about it, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. There’s nothing to say. I have to go. I love you.”
“I love you too, Shane.”
“You ready, man?” Sgt. Gallery asked as he adjusted his uniform and ran his fingers over the rows of pins on his chest.
“Let’s go.” I followed him to the large white van that sat across the parking lot. It was already filled with the other soldiers who would serve as pallbearers at Owens’s funeral, nine of them in all.
I slid inside the passenger seat as the sergeant rounded the front of the van and got into the driver’s seat.
“All I do is play the bugle,” one of the soldiers said from behind me.
“You don’t play shit. That thing isn’t even real.”
“Exactly my point!” the young soldier replied as the others chuckled.
“Every role is important. Don’t screw it up,” Sgt. Gallery called to the back as he glanced in the rearview mirror.
I stared out the window as the world flashed by, trying to block out their voices. I had been on funeral details before but never one for someone I had known. It was a nerve-wracking ordeal. If I didn’t do everything to the letter, I would feel like I was letting down Owens again.
“We’re here.” Gallery put the van in park and turned to me. I was still focused on the world outside, only now I was staring at a cemetery. “It’s time.”
I nodded as I opened my door and stepped out into the muggy Texas air.
“These uniforms aren’t made for heat,” I overheard one of the soldiers complain. The air in Texas was different from overseas. It could be over one hundred degrees in Iraq but the air was dry and more tolerable. In Texas, it felt like being in a sauna.
“Let’s stack the arms. I don’t want to be late for the funeral.”
The other soldiers hustled to get their M16s and make their way across the grass toward the gravesite. The weapons guard took his position as the three soldiers on each side of him stacked their weapons in a standing teepee formation on either side. They left the guard and the bugle player behind as they hurried to get back in the van so they wouldn’t miss the funeral for a fallen hero.
Jenn
August 19, 2010, May’s House
“Jenn!” May leaned over and gave me a hug. “How are you holding up?”
“I wish he would talk to me.” I stepped inside the home as I looked around at the living room full of boxes. “You moving away without telling us?” I laughed as I turned back to May.
“I was going through the baby stuff to see what we could pass along to you.”
My heart sank as I realized how hard it must be for May to give up on the dream of having another child.
“Don’t give me that look.” May waved her hand as she began to stack the boxes together to make room for us to sit. “I’m fine. We will just give all of our extra love to your baby.” She smiled as she picked up a stack of boxes and began carrying them back the hallway. The phone rang from the kitchen counter.
“You want me to get that?” I stood from my seat and walked around the couch.
“Yeah. Probably telemarketers. They don’t understand how that ‘do not call’ list works.”
I laughed as I grabbed the phone and leaned back against the sink. “Hello, Philips residence.”
“May? Who is this?” a woman asked from the other end of the line. She sounded like she had been crying.
“I’m sorry. This is Jenn, a friend of Mays. Who can I say is calling?”