When We're All Used Up

Chapter 19: Respect The Dead

[Private James A. Brooke]

Jordan and I walk into an office, I was told to report here to receive some news. As I walk in I see an officer, he begins to speak.
"You two have been selected to bring home the body of Sebastian Carlos, you two will also stay at home since you are mere days away from officially leaving." He looks at us and I answer,
"Of course sir, we will, when will we be leaving?" He checks a paper and says,
"You leave in two hours, you will be expected to go to the funeral too, afterwards, you will be sent to your home towns and after that, consider your military service over, unless you want to stay." I look at Jordan and he nods, I nod too. The officer looks up at us and nods, telling us that we are dismissed. We walk out and begin to walk back to the barracks.
"Well, that's something, but at least we get to go home early." Jordan says. "Where are you from James?" I look at him and say,
"New York, I know, I don't have the accent, crazy." We have a quick laugh and talk. I think about my military career, and I remember my worst moment. We were surrounded by enemy forces, they were shooting from everywhere and we couldn't even see anything because it was night. We were shooting back and forth randomly, hoping to land a shot, any shot. I remember someone rushing up and shooting down the enemies. I get snapped out of my flashback by the feeling of bumping into the door of the barracks. I open the door and walk in. We start packing our stuff, people look at us as we do.
"Where the hell are you going?" Someone says, we stay quiet and walk away after we load up our bags. We walk towards the runway, conversing about some random things. We walk towards a pretty old C-47 and get ushered in. We sit down on the interior seats and wait for the aircraft to take off. We both find it eerie how quiet it is, nobody says a word. There's nothing to hear except the low WRRRR of the engine. The aircraft starts moving and we wait, quietly, to reach our destination.

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We reach an airport and we walk out of the aircraft, the night sky looks beautiful. The stars are like tiny splatters of paint in a vast, dark blue, canvas. Men with mortuary services walk out with the coffin, it's made of beautiful mahogany wood and accents of different metals. We move away from the aircraft and towards the airport.

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We stand in front of a house and knock on the door. A woman and man, Sebastian's parents, excitedly open the door and open their arms for a hug. But their smiles quickly turned into faces of sadness the men behind us fold a flag and give them to another man who presents it to them. They take it and cry while hugging the flag. I walk up to them and hand them two things, a picture and piece of paper, both of which we got off of his body. They read it, their tears landing on the ground as they do. One of the men behind us speaks to them in Spanish, which I don't understand. They nod their head and walk back into the house, closing the door behind them.
"What'd you tell them?" I ask him.
"I told them that we'll be there for the funeral which will be in three days, we will buy you two a hotel room until then.

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[January 12th, 1972]

"Twenty three years ago, in the year 1948, the world said hello to a boy named Sebastian Carlos. As a child, he was a fast learner who truly had a fascination with both the world around him and the people who reside in it. And by the time he was 15 he already knew his future. I still remember the day he told me he was going to be a scientist. He ran up to me and said 'I'm going to be a scientist, and I'll make enough money to pay for our whole family's life.' He would say it all the time, and I really thought that he was going to do it. Only, he was never able to do it. In 1966, he was drafted into the United States Marine Corps. Not much is known about his career in the military other than the fact that he served under the Medal of Honor recipient Sargent Fourier, and that he died to his own hand. And now, we gather here tonight, to honor his life." The eulogizer says. Everyone claps or cries while Jordan and I stand there, awkwardly. After the family sees him displayed in his casket people begin to walk out of the church to go back home. We walk out las but the family yell to us.
"Come with us, we want to know more about my cousin." The eulogizer says to us.
"Of course, whatever you want to know we'll try to tell you." I tell them. The cousin speaks to Sebastian's mom and dad before sitting us down.
"What was he like, during his last days." The cousin says.
"He didn't seem any different from how I remember him, he was just like, neutral, going with the flow. Slightly regretful but nothing else." I say, he speaks to the family in Spanish and then looks back at me.
"Did he really kill himself?" He asks.
"Yes, he took a pistol I found and shot himself." I respond.
"We're really sorry about your loss." James says as the cousin speaks to the family. He nods and looks back at us.
"If we never see you two again, we thank you for standing along side him for his time there." The cousin tells us. We nod and walk away, the family in tears. We reach our rental cars and look at each other.
"Well Jordan" I say.
"What James?" Jordan tells me.
"It was great to be with you through it all. And now, it's goodbye." I tell Jordan.
"Goodbye James, it was great to be with you too." Jordan says. We share a handshake and get into our cars. I look to my left and nod, he nods back. I pull out of the church driveway and go to the airport of which I came.

[Chapter 19, End]