The Recalling- Darkest Night

Even you can't avoid the pains of life. Just listen to John.

The Recalling: Darkest Night

6:07 P.M.

            John, your mother and I are very proud of you. You will be a great soldier one day if you remember the truth.           

            John kept on repeating this memory time’s non-end. He treasured this memory because it reminded him his mother and father’s love for him. This memory made him firm through thick and thin; it would also protect him through war " at least that’s what he thought. But what he didn’t like about the memory was the conditional statement: if you remember the truth.

            I am already a great soldier. Why should I remember the truth? What on earth is the truth? Remembering the truth how to kill someone? Remembering the truth as to how to please your master? There is truth in everything!

            John leaned forward in the bench with his hands closed together, right next to his face. He opened his hands, and from what one could see, he would see two wooden, miniature statutes: one resembling a father and the other resembled a mother. John kissed the statutes dearly, and he began to weep. He just sat there, remembering . . . .

            The night was calm and fair. A full moon brightened the night, peaceful and quiet. John, his mother, and father stood together in the living room; all the lanterns were lit out. If it weren’t for the moonlight, no one could see. Unusual night. He also remembered being scared; he did not understand his parent’s weird behavior.  But he refrained from showing any signs of sorrow or cowardice. He was a warrior.

            “John . . .You have to leave this house,” father stated.

            “Why? It’s night, this is where I sleep.”

            “Jus . . just look outside the window.”

            John looked outside the window and gazed into the dark night. Everything was normal at first site. The front porch was empty, the five trees on the lawn looked graceful in the moonlight with their branches swaying ever so slightly, and the ravens seemed to be calling for their mate. Everything was normal. John looked at his parents with confused eyes.

            “Nothing . . . .”

            “Look again.”

            He stared at the roadside, which was twenty yards away from the house’s farthest tree. (The farthest tree was twenty yards away from the house.)Staring at the roadside with eyes wide open, his blue glossy eyes attempted to see anything. Nothing. It wasn’t too dark. There was just no one outside. But he kept on looking outside, drudgingly.

            “O Lord, open his eyes so he may see,” cited the father.

            John, looked back at father, wondering why he said in what he said, but he did not speak a word. Mother and father stood still at the same spot in the living room. They both looked at each other in a loving way.

            “Look again, “father said again.

            “I love you,” said mother to the father.

            “I love you too.”

            John looked back at the window, but this time, he saw something beyond the roadside. It was a man, and not just one man! There were ten men with him: armed, in mail, and in formation.

            John looked back at his parents in terror. Nothing was adding up.

            “What are they doing here, father?”

            He didn’t reply.

            “Father! What are they doing here?”

            “They are here to complete their mission.”

            “What mission? And why wasn’t I able to see them?”

            “You can’t see them because you don’t see the light . . . .”

            “What light? It is dark outside.”

            Mother and father just looked at each other. Saddened. They did not seem to be scared of the men by the roadside or scared that death might come to them. They even weren’t scared that death might swallow John. They were scared that John was blind.

            “John, there is not enough time to explain. I want you to go to Zion, alright.”

            “But Zion is evil. No, no, what are you talking about! What are they going to do to us?!?” demanded John.

            “It doesn’t matter. There’s not enough time. John . . . You must leave” said mother calmly.

            “You . . . you . . both of you are being killed? What did you do? Why?” asked John.

            “We are being killed, John, and you must leave, for if you’re here, they will kill you too!”

            John looked back at the window, and he saw the eleven men marching forward. They now arrived at the tree, twenty yards away from the house. Swords, everyone of them had swords.

            “LEAVE, JOHN, YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!” shouted the father.

            “But what do they want from you! You and mom are good people,” cried John.

            Mother just walked toward John, kissed him on the forehead, and hugged him.

            “John, you must live, but remember: we have always loved you, and we love you even now,” whispered the mother to John.

            John withheld the tears from flowing down his cheeks. He is strong. He is a warrior. But no warrior could stop eleven armed soldiers. Their footsteps could now be heard on the grass.

            “You have to leave now,” mother whispered.

            “I will. Will I ever see you?”

            “I am afraid not, my son,” the father replied.

            “I love you, mother. I love you father,”

            The three all came together and hugged each other with passion, crying. Memories were all what they had now. No regrets. In unison, they looked at the front porch and looked back at John.

            “You have to leave now, John. We love you,” said the father.

            “I love you too father. I love both of you,”

            Quickly, John ran to the back door, grabbed the door handle, and pushed it wide open. It was during the same time that he heard the front door creek wide open too. John just ran -- never stopping. He tried to block his ears from hearing whatever screams were heard, but he couldn’t. The rest was a blur.

            John stood up from the seat and placed his statutes back in his pocket. He walked towards the bucket filled with water and washed his face wet with tears. Who has ever seen a soldier that cried? He would not be that soldier people saw who cried. Next, he retrieved his longbow and began to walk outside from weapon room. The light blinded his eyes, but he kept on walking to his right, where his booth was located. The Final Analysis.

            My parents have always been there with me. They will be with me " even now.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A powerful chapter. A lot of sad emotion because of the separation. I like the emotion and the final conversation. A strong ending to a excellent chapter.
Coyote