Page 2 of Warrior

“K.” I nod before she walks to the kitchen and disappears behind the fridge door. My eyes move to the TV. More footage from earlier this morning of the Twin Towers is still on the screen. People are running around, covered in ash, and helping others off the street or moving them into buildings. There are piles of metal where the buildings once stood. Firemen and police officers go back and forth from the pile. Some people are crying while others stand with their mouths open in shock. A sludgy feeling moves in my stomach.

“Here you go, Colt,” Mom says and sets a plate on the table for me. I sit in my chair and eat the cheese stick and grapes while I take out my football cards. The phone rings and my mom answers. I hear her talking about the news. By the time my snack is gone, my dad comes home.

He’s dressed in his mechanic suit and still covered in grease. The creases around his mouth are prominent, like he’s been frowning all day. He doesn’t speak as he walks past me to their bedroom in the back of the house. I hear the shower turn on like usual. My dad isn’t the overly affectionate type, but it’s rare for him to walk past me without commenting on my card collection or ruffling my hair; he must not be feeling the best today.

“I’m about to start dinner, Colt,” Mom says, turning to hang up the phone. “Why don’t you go outside and play.”

I nod and jump off my chair. Grabbing my football, I run out the door. I hope Alex comes home soon. I hope he’ll throw the pigskin, as he calls it, before we have to go inside and wash our hands. I pretend to throw lobs and run in touchdowns until my mom calls me in. I can’t tell you how much time has passed, only that the sky is turning pink and orange and the street lights across from our house have popped on.

I make sure to take my shoes off at the door, so I don’t get yelled at, and I leave my football on the bench. When I pass through the living room to wash my hands, I notice my dad sitting in his recliner with a drink in his hand. He looks tired. His eyes are drawn together while he stares at the screen. They still have the news on. Now they’re showing pictures of people they are calling “hijackers.” I don’t know what it means exactly. They look like normal people I’d see at the grocery store.

“Four planes,” I hear my dad say to my mom over the sound of the running water.

With my hands washed, I feel it’s safe to head to the kitchen. Mom sits at the table and motions for me to join her. She gives me a small smile, but I can see the tension in her features. Her eyes dart to where my dad is sitting. “Eat your carrots, Colt,” she mummers.

“Where’s Alex?” I ask, taking a bite of the orange vegetable like she asked me to.

“I’m not sure,” she answers, scooping herself some chicken before putting some on my plate. “Hey, Wes,” she calls to my father. “Have you heard from Alex?”

He doesn’t answer and her lips mash together. “He usually is done with his shift at the hardware store by now. He didn’t call this afternoon though,” she says. I don’t know if she’s telling me or my dad or just thinking out loud. We eat our dinner in mostly silence. The only sound is the ice cubes in my dad’s tumbler, clinking the glass every now and then. The room feels tense, something I’m not at all familiar with.

After dinner, I help Mom clear the table and put aside a plate for Alex. Chicken and potatoes are his favorite, so I make sure to make his plate extra full, before putting tin foil on top and setting it in the fridge. It’s unlike him to miss a meal. He has always been strict about eating well and tells me that I need to too so I can be as big as him some day. My brother is tall. Maybe not professional athlete tall, but he’s big. He and his friends lifted weights all through high school. Alex claimed it helped with his batting for baseball. It must have too because he was good. His team even won the state championship one year.

Headlights flash in our front window and I smile. “Oh, thank goodness,” Mom mutters under her breath. She must have been really worried.

Alex and his friends Jesse, Russ, and Shawn come barreling in the door, laughing and whooping loudly. Dad stands from his chair slowly, taking them in. My eyes zone in on the shirt my brother is wearing. The Marine Corps EGA is front and center. I’ve seen it before on my dad’s old baseball hat that he keeps on his dresser. Alex’s face is flushed and his brown eyes are bright with excitement.

“What’s going on, Al?” Mom’s voice carries over the ruckus they’re causing.

He pauses and faces my mom with his legs apart and hands behind his back. Parade rest, how Dad has made us stand many times before. Dad goes still. Jesse, my brother’s best friend since grade school, steps up, throwing an arm around my brother. “We joined up!” Alex announces, his blond head thrown back, while his hands are cupped around his mouth.

My head swings from my brother and his friends, who are elbowing each other and laughing about getting revenge for the terrorist attacks, to my parents who are both starting to look scary. My mom’s face is pale and her eyes wide while she watches the guys. My dad’s face is red and the vein in his temple looks like it might explode.

“Dad,” Alex speaks. “Say something. I thought you’d be proud I’m following in your footsteps, old man.”

My eyes swing back to Alex. “What does ‘joining up’ mean?”

“It means, little dude,” he says, bending down on one knee to my level, “I’m a Marine now like Dad was and I’m going to go kick some ass overseas.”

“That’s a bad word,” I tell him, shaking my head. He laughs and his hand shoots up to ruffle my hair. Before I can blink, I’m lifted in the air and swung on his back. The guys howl and start trading barbs again before Alex turns back to my parents.

“Seriously, guys,” he laughs. “What’s up?”

“Alex,” my mom breathes out and a whole new wave of tears slide down her cheeks while she clutches the dish towel to her chest. She doesn’t look happy or proud.

I slide from Alex’s back and he walks over to her. “Mom, everything’s going to be okay,” he tells her smiling. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Today was the kickstart I needed. When Russ called this morning to tell me about the towers, I turned on the news right away. I’ve never felt so angry and emotional about anything. I can’t not do something. Theguys felt the same way. We drove to the recruiting station and started the process.”

“So you aren’t fully in yet?” my dad asks.

“Just have to wait for some testing.” Alex nods, smiling.

“Then you can back out,” my dad replies, turning to my brother.

Alex’s face falls. “Dad, I’m not backing out. Did you see what happened? Thousands of people lost their lives today. Is that not something I should care about? You were a Marine, I thought you’d get it.”

“This isn’t just joining up to hang out and play games, Alex.” My dad’s voice rises. “What happened today means war for the United States. You think our president will just let this go unpunished? You just signed up for war, boys!”

Alex steps away from our parents, his arm sliding around my shoulders. “I know. You think I didn’t know that when I walked in there today? I’m prepared for that.”

---