Читать книгу A Place to Heal - CA J.D. Bodiford - Страница 3

It was a beautiful September morning. The sun was the color of fine gold without a cloud in the sky. The sky was the pure, deep blue of the ocean ten miles out. The birds sang to their young, promising food and flight to the untried babies and many others of God’s small creatures could be seen scurrying around doing what all small creatures do. The drying leaves covered the ground like a quilt of fall colors. They rustled loudly under Emma’s black pumps, the sound unnoticed as she and her mother walked ahead of the large crowd of family and friends. They took their seats at the front of the block of chairs, facing the man who would try to ease their sorrow and deep pain with words of God; try to comfort them with promises of a better life where there were no bullets, no roadside bombs, no martyrs willing to give their life for their God and take all with them that they could. He would speak of freedom, service, loyalty, and making the ultimate sacrifice so that others could be free. He would talk of streets of gold and mansions prepared for the faithful. Emma sat silently through it all, not hearing a word much less finding comfort.

Her eyes were fixed, her vision so blurred by tears the details of the two caskets in front of her were indistinguishable. The sound of her mother’s quiet sobs echoed in the silence, emphasizing the words softly spoken by the preacher that had known all three siblings their entire life. Emma’s eyes were gritty, swollen as she sat stiffly with tears still rolling down her cheeks. Dear God, how could she have any tears left?! Her aunt held her mother close, her arm around her sister’s shoulders. Her father sat stoically, all emotion wiped from his face. No one tried to comfort Emma. All who had attempted had been pushed away, her anger too great to be set aside yet for the solace that grieving would eventually bring. She had withdrawn into herself, trying to understand what justified the loss of these two lives. The only answer that came to her was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It had been two weeks since the uniformed men had knocked on their door and shattered their world. She vaguely remembered some of their words; something about an unexpected attack in an outlying village, a call for an airstrike and reinforcements that came too late to save the four young men trapped there; how they died bravely, fighting for the country they loved. She knew that her family wasn’t the only one that had ever lost a loved one in that hellhole of Afghanistan halfway around the world. But that was little comfort to Emma in the depths of despair she had fallen into. She had thought about contacting the other families that were suffering just as they were from that day, but she was too bitter, too filled with hatred. She knew that one day this would not be such an overwhelming force in her life; that she would find a place in her heart to put this and a way to move past it. Maybe then she would be able to offer them something besides more pain. She had their addresses so she would just save them for that day.

Her older brothers had been as different as night and day even though they were only fourteen months apart. Five years older than her, they had been the sun in her universe. Protective, teasing, maddening at times, they had taught her what she needed to know about life and especially about taking care of herself in a man’s world. No sissy, helpless sister for them, no sir. She had to be as fast, as smart, as mean, and almost as strong as they were. Her mother had done her best to make a young lady out of her but by the time she got her only daughter away from her brothers, it was too late. Emma’s saving grace had been going away to college and joining a sorority. She had bloomed into a breathtakingly beautiful young woman and her “sisters” had taught her everything her mother could not about the opposite sex. Dating, however, was a near impossibility. As soon as her brothers heard there was a man in her life she could count on a visit from them. No one was ever right for her as far as they were concerned. She had all but given up on finding someone when they both decided to enlist. She had breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of finally having her freedom. Sure, she would miss them, but they would be home every now and then. With all the ignorance of the young, she had cheerfully kissed them goodbye and got on with the business of finishing up her degree in interior design. They had not been able to attend her graduation but she knew they were proud of her just the same, even if it was a girly career she had chosen. Three hard years later, she was at the top of her game; the most sought after young designer in the Houston area and quickly making a national name for herself. Content with the letters she received from them and always making sure to be available when they were home on leave, it never crossed her mind that one day they might not come home full of life and mischief as always. Certainly not that one-day they might not come home at all. But here she sat in front of two flag draped coffins, despair and confusion eating her alive at how this could have happened.