Strawberries

A story of a boy and a girl. War has ripped them apart, but somehow strawberries bring them together. Post-Vietnam War, inspired by Across the Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

"Are you still thinking about me, Gen?" he asked, braiding a lock of my hair, as I lay with my head in his lap, looking up at the ceiling, the blades of the fan spinning in wide loops, in a bored, tedious circle.  I ran my forefinger over one of the ruffles on my skirt, then reached into the top drawer of the bedside table, handing him all the stacks of papers.  He examined them with those deep green eyes of his, the ones that gave everybody the feeling he could see straight into you, then grinned his lopsided grin.  "All the letters."

"I read them every night before I go to sleep," I whispered.  A tiny bead of salt water leaked from my eye.  He swiped it away before I could.

"You know I love you, Gen," he mumbled, and kissed my forehead.  I remained quiet, biting my lip to keep back the wracking sobs that threatened to consume my body.  "Genevieve," he breathed again, playing with his sleeve.  "I never meant to go like that.  I didn't expect it.  I was too..."  He paused, taking one of the strawberries out of the bowl beside us on my bed and spun it between his fingers.  "...overconfident."  He squeezed it till the red juice oozed out onto his palm.  "I was sort of the head guy with my...my friends," he amended, recalling the last time he used the words "squadron," "regiment," or "brigade."  I never really knew what the difference was between them, but whenever I caught slivers of conversation about his time, those words always seemed to pop up.  None of them sounded too appealing to me.

"Did any of them ever find out about you, Blake?"

He sighed, and stared at me so that I looked back down into my lap with my face burning.  It took me the longest time to find out about my brother, and the fact that he'd joined the army only prolonged his revelation.

"Do you still have the letter, Genevieve?"  I nodded, and shuffled through my stack for August 30, 1967.  I handed it to him, and he unfolded it carefully, smoothing out all the creases before he began.  "'Dear Genevieve, I've found that having friends here is a lot easier than at home.  You're here for the same reasons, for the desire to keep your country safe, not because you're legally obliged to be here, like at school.  I've made a few good friendships, with some guys that I hope will stay in touch even after we get out of this crummy war.  There are also a few that are pretty good looking, but I can't do anything about that now, unfortunately.  Although I can't say what I honestly wish I could, I must ask: Is it my own freedom I'm fighting for anymore?'

"'I'm trying to keep it quiet, but I have a feeling my closest few friends know.  I try not to make things too obvious, but I can tell that Jonathon and Max are catching on.  Anyways, I'm glad that you and Maggie are able to spend time together again.  I never did think that Paul fellow was very good for her.  How is school?  You'd better be keeping that Biology grade up or Mother will be furious.  I have to go now, but I'll be sure to write you again soon.  I love you till mount ever rests.  Your brother, Pvt. Blake O'Reilly.'"

He folded the letter up once more, tucked it into the envelope, and sat it on my lap.  I sighed again, placing it between the letters preceding and succeeding it.

"I can't believe it's been three years," I admitted, the tears beginning to collect in my eyes.  Blake wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me as I shook like a leaf from the sheer memories.  "I hate them.  I hate them so much, what they did to you.  You never deserved that, Blake..."

"You never thought I'd be in the army either," he reminded me gently.  "I was defending my country, Gen.  We got caught...it was hard.  Every day they beat us, and the one time I tried to fight back...guess they got carried away..."  He trailed off sadly, moving my hair away from my face.  "Everything's okay now, though, isn't it?  The war's over, even if we didn't win.  Nam's okay, Mom and Dad are okay...but you're not, Gen."

I didn't try to deny it.  I just nodded my head yes and held onto him, sobbing against his chest, decorated with a small purple medal in the shape of a heart.

"You have to move on some time or another," he muttered, and kissed my forehead again, and I began to feel him slipping away, like he always did.

"No, Blake, don't go," I begged, clinging to his fingertips.  He picked up another strawberry and a thumbtack with that lopsided grin on his face and tacked it to the wall, where it bled down onto the floor.  "Blake..."

"Think of it as me.  The more juice comes out, the hollower the strawberry becomes.  The more you worry over me, the less I can come see you.  But some part of me will always, always be here."  He tapped my nose with his finger and patted my hand.  "I love you, Gen."  He dissolved faster, and after a long pause, my big brother was gone again.

I don't know why he came back all the time, and I don't know how, but there he was, all the time, glancing at that little strawberry pinned to the wall, somehow miraculously unaged and untouched by time.  There he was, and there he went.

Blake Justin O'Reilly

Loving Brother, Son, and Friend

January 27, 1948-October 12, 1968

Rest in peace.  I love you till mount ever rests.

Author's Note

Still being edited! Please let me know any historical or factual errors you may notice. I know it's a bit cheesy. Thanks!

Reviews

[skerns]

Great descriptive details allow your reader to create the scene in their mind. I feel like there are a lot of underlying feelings and emotions that the reader can inference using your word choice.

#lrwp2018

[Trip]

You've got some really powerful imagery here, in the strawberry pinned to the wall. I'd like to see you play with it even more, perhaps. Strawberries are this binding force between brother and sister, for reasons that the reader is uncertain of (and that you rightly left unanswered) and so the moment that Blake pins the strawberry to the wall is full of emotion and power. Anyone who's ever squeezed a ripe summer strawberry knows the way that it explodes with bright red juice, and I loved that moment that you led us to.

Play with the ending a bit. See if the imagery maintains its poignancy without Blake explaining the significance of the pinned strawberry (I suspect it will :).

It seems like a simple "cheesy" story at first glance, but there really is a lot going on here. Thanks for writing it.

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

Love this story.. a little mystical .. did you see Across the Universe?
Jude used strawberries in his art.. a wonderful story.. cheesy is okay by me, i like cheese.. and The Beatles. Do'h .. i just read your heading beneath the story and see the movie is where you got the inspiration.. I am sorry I didn;t read sooner but glad it inspired you. A wonderful movie with beautiful songs and a message .

Chloe

[Kia]

Sad, but very good. I really got into this story and you wrote it fantastically with good detail and emotion. Very touching story. I liked it a lot!