Realistic++-+Sunlight

=Sunlight =  We didn’t talk about Ned anymore. One day, we just stopped talking about him; it was like he never even existed. Even Ann pretended that she forgot him. But she couldn’t fool me. I could tell that she still thought about him day and night. I could tell by the way she wept into her pillow at night, by the way she stared into space after prayers, and by the way she hurriedly hid her wedding ring when I entered the room. However, Jimmy wasn’t like the rest of us. He was the bad actor of the play. Some days, Jimmy would blurt out, “Where’s Dad?” while we were doing homework. Ann would look away and continued doing the dishes and awkwardly ask us if we’d like some cookies.

He didn’t have to leave. I can swim now. We could’ve swum together in the lake. I’m not the bad swimmer he remembered six years ago. At school, we were learning backstroke and I came in first place. He should’ve stayed home. Maybe I’ll become a professional swimmer and win prizes all over the world. Maybe he would give me a big hug after every swim and whisper he was proud of me in a muffled voice. We all missed him so terribly. Everywhere I go, I could find bits and pieces of him. When I sat down on the sofa, I remembered his arms around me. When I brushed my teeth, I remembered the way I came home after school to find that he’d put a new toothbrush while I was at school.

Last night, we were listening over the radio when we heard the knocks on our door. Ann perked up on her chair. She quickly walked to the door and opened it to find a single envelope resting on the doorstep. Instantly, she grabbed it and tore it open. She read the content of the letter to us. It was from the army.

The letter began with a brisk apology for the long war that was causing distress to both the country and the people. Then it said something about an accident. Ned was hurt badly from an injury but he was being cared for. The army said that he was at a hospital near North Dakota. They gave us the full address and their best wishes.

“Well,” exhaled Ann, after a long pause.

“I want to see him,” revealed Jimmy.

“I want to see him, too,” I said.

Ann nodded. I knew that he was going to be very hurt and he might look pathetic, but I didn’t care. My mind was going crazy. I was going to see him. I was going to see him. I stayed up all night thinking about what I should say to him. Should I ask him how he is? Should I smile at him? Should I sit next to him and tell him what he missed all these years? I had so many questions echoing around in my head; too many questions, maybe.

It was the visiting day. As I climbed into the bus, I realized I hadn’t combed my hair. My shoes were very old and the hems of my shirt were falling apart. I stretched my legs and placed my feet at the top of the seat in front of me. I half expected Ann to glare at me and tell me to put my feet down. But her complaints never came. When I turned to face her, she had an excited look in her eyes. When she saw me she smiled, took my hand and squeezed it. After a while, she started tapping her feet together like an eager child. Jimmy was grinning as he bounced up and down in his seat and I was pleasantly shocked when Ann turned around and laughed. The hospital was filled with injured soldiers. A nurse was guiding us through the hospital. Finally, we reached a snow-white door with a shiny silver knob on it. The nurse turned the doorknob and let us in.

As soon as I walked in, I saw a stream of light coming from a wide window. A bed was placed under the window, and on it was Ned. He turned to us and smiled. His smile felt even brighter than the sunlight. Jimmy was already on his lap, giggling and punching playfully into his hands.

“Good morning.” Those were his first words after six years. I almost laughed at the plain way he said those words. He was still the same. Although his legs were tied up in a tight cast, he was as relaxed as an evening breeze. The countless hours I spent worrying about what to do when I saw him felt incredibly dumb now. Ned was saying my name. I felt myself running into his arms. They were still the same, too: strong, safe, and honest. He pulled me away, and he commented, “I bet you’re as tall as me now, son.” as he tapped me on the shoulder. I stood proud and tall and said, “No, taller.” He laughed heartily at the joke. It felt good to laugh again. I’d forgotten what it felt like. “Dad,” I said, after a pause. The word tasted sweet and welcoming in my lips. “Dad,” I repeated. “When you come home, can we do something?”

“Of course,” he promised.

“Let’s go swimming.”