Esther's Story

Maybe this was right too. Maybe this new adventure demanded a new type of journal. So instead of digging deeper for the safety of her old leather friend, she boldly brought forth a new one. Tugging it into the top of the bag between some old jeans and a sweater, she closed the zipper and slung it across her shoulder.

She made it smoothly across the room and out the door. But she felt her bravado flee when she stood facing the closed door of her son's room. She took two steps, her fingers wrapping around the door knob. She wanted to turn it, to step inside and for one more brief moment commune with him.

But she dared not. Her life now was about seizing the moment. The here and now. And outside, she knew that Michael was finishing up his preparations. Any moment now he would come looking for her, to say their final farewells.

She had other plans. She walked down the hallway with the same determination that she had when facing the inquisition yesterday. Was it just yesterday? She crossed the living room and stood for a moment in the door way. Her hand hovered over the handle on the screen door.

She could still back out. Stash the duffle bag under the couch before he came back. Pretend that everything was fine. Send him on his journeys alone. Keep her pride and dignity. Never admit the truth...that she had nothing left in this place...that she wanted nothing more than to see where this thing between them took her.

She pushed that handle and rushed onto the front porch. Flying across the yard with the duffle back bouncing about her back, she stood before him in seconds.

She had practiced this speech a thousand times. She had lain awake all night long in his arms writing and rehearsing each word. But now faced with the questions in those blue eyes, all her carefully crafted words fled like baby birds on the first stiff summer wind.

"What is that?" he asked eyeing the bag.

"I thought..." she began, searching for the words once more. Her speech about taking chances, seeing where things led, new beginnings, all her pretty words deserted her. In the end, she was left with only, "I'm coming with you."

She watched him. He seemed frozen in place. One muscled thigh on either side of the motor cycle. His hands on the shining metal of the handlebars. His face an unreadable mask.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. Her breathe caught in her lungs until she was certain her lips would turn blue.

Still neither said anything. They simply stared at each other.

Then he moved. Throwing one leg over the bike, he dismounted. In seconds, he stood before her, so close that she could feel the heat of his body in the crisp morning air. So close that she could smell the clean scent of soap and man. So close that if she merely took a tiny baby step, she could wrap her arms about him, seek the passion that only he had ever given her.

He reached out and took the bag from her. But that was all he did. His eyes searched her face.

She did not know what to say, what to tell him to convince him. But somehow she knew that she had to. She had to climb onto the back of that bike, wrap her arms about his waist and leave this place forever. But those words seemed stuck within the tight confines of her dry throat.

He turned and she wanted to put out her hand to stop him, but she was unable to move, frozen to this spot. Then she saw that he moved towards the bike, opening another compartment and placing her stuff inside it. He closed the lid and swung one of his muscular thighs across the bike once more taking his seat.

"Then get on," was his only reply.

Esther smiled and breathed again, a great gulp of air that seemed to refresh her soul as well as her body. She raced the few short steps to the motorcycle and threw one of her jean clad legs across the seat behind him. She climbed into place, wrapping her arms about his waist and rocking her hips against the leather seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

His hand snaked around to rest on her upper thigh. "If you want us to get out of here today, then be still, because rubbing against me like that ain't gonna do either of us any good for a few hours," he smiled as he turned in his seat and placed a brief kiss on her lips.

Reaching behind him, he pulled out a red, white and blue helmet. He placed it on her head and adjusted the strap beneath her chin. "This will have to do until we can find a place to get your own."

Esther wanted to argue with him. To insist that he take the helmet and what protection it offered. But she knew it would be futile. A waste of words on this man of honor and another delay in shaking the dust of this place off her boots. So she smiled and asked, "So where next, Sergeant Mike?"

***

EPILOGUE

Esther stood in the walkway. Dressed in the black flowing skirt, white ruffled shirt and bright red vest, her hair was hidden beneath the golden wrap. Her face shone brightly as she greeted each trick-or-treater. Each child was given a bag of her famous goodies. Each treated to a snack of cookies, candied apples and her special witches brew punch complete with steam rising off of it, thanks to the liquid nitrogen ice.

The house was decorated from top to bottom with its usual assortment of pumpkins, vampires, monsters and cobwebs. But hanging from the bannister next to the front door was the glory of old Red, White and Blue and below it proudly hung the Marine Corps banner as well. A tribute to her son...and her husband.

Sometimes her mind could not fathom the difference that a year could make. But looking across the yard to the table where her handsome hero dished out another cup of witches brew to their little goblins, she could not help but smile. Sometimes life was fair. Sometimes, just sometimes, good things still happened to good people.

That weekend last fall, Esther had learned that Michael was a man on a mission. She was his third stop. His first had been a young widow, whose husband had died just days before Michael came home. For the first time, he had the honor of attending the funeral of one of his fallen men.

Then, he has stopped in Oklahoma to hold the hand of the dying father of the first men he had lost too many damned years before. His list was long, way too long. But he was determined to visit each and every one of his man that had come home and each family of those that had not.

After they had taken down the last of the Halloween decorations last year, Esther had shocked the hell out of Michael when she grabbed a backpack and hopped onto the back of his motorcycle. It was a journey of tears and laughter that they would take together. Because one lesson that she had learned over those few precious days and nights in his arms was that a burden shared was a burden lightened.

They had made dozens of stops along the way. But getting married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator was one of her favorites. Dozens of former Marines and families had shown up to share their big day. The laughter and the days filled the little chapel of love. And each would have sworn that Tommy stood right beside them, smiling his approval.

They had been forced to box up Tommy's things a couple of months back. They had gotten a call one of the young woman that had served under Mike had been killed when an IED went off under the supply truck she was driving.

Her grandmother had agreed to care for the children while their mother served her country and built a better life for them all. But for a woman in her late sixties raising too small girls seemed a daunting future. Would they take charge of the two young children who had now lost their only parent? They did not even have to discuss it. They simple got to work packing and painting. The room was now a bright pink, perfect for their little girls.

They would never forget Tommy, or the other families that they had met. But together they were learning to live and love...one day at a time.

***

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

I wrote this short story in October of 2011 for submission to Literotica's Halloween contest. It was something that I literally kicked out in a morning. It placed third in that contest and I received dozens of emails and comments about how deeply it touched the hearts and souls of soldiers and their families around the world.

But as a storyteller, I could not get Sergeant Mike out of my head. What an amazing man, so representative of the hundreds of thousands of men and women around the world that give selflessly of themselves to bring peace to us all. What has developed is a series of novellas about his travels called Sergeant Mike's Miracle Tour. The series is sort of a Highway to Heaven meets the United States Marine Corps.

Esther's Story is merely a taster, a special gift to my readers to celebrate the sacrifices of our men, women and families who serve in the military this Memorial Day. Please feel free to share this story with your friends and family. My goal is simply to bring hope and gratitude through these humble words.

The first chapter in the Sergeant Mike's Miracle Tour series is My Country Tis of Thee. It will be released on/around the 4th of July. It is the story of a young Latino, who gave his life for a country that was not even his own. As with all of the stories in this series, it will touch upon the complex issues of how our country treats tens of thousands of soldiers and their families who defend their adopted country so valiantly. It also includes a motely band of Vietnam and Korean veterans, who honor their comrades and country by attending all the military funerals in the area.

Going Home is the second in the series. It is the story of Mike's best friend, who died over twenty years ago in Desert Storm. His father is dying of Alzheimer's and Mike has the privilege of standing in his steed to hold his father's hand as he goes home to once again see the son they both loved. It will be released on Labor Day to honor the hard work of those like the father, who may never have served in the military, but made our country strong with the sweat of their brows.

Shared Burdens is this story re-written through Mike's eyes. Did you guess that he has been in love with Esther for years? It will come out at Halloween...a first anniversary of sort for Mike and his stories. Other stories in the series will deal with issues such as PTSD, disabilities and the new orphans of war, children who lose their mothers.

This series is so much more to me than just stories. They are a passion; my chance to give something back to the men, women and families that keep us all safe. Almost eleven years ago, we all stood by as 'the great sucker punch came out of nowhere.' On that day and since, tens of thousands of men and women have answered the call to defend America (England and freedom itself).

Now as those wars are drawing to a close, it is us, those countries that they left behind, who are called to duty. How we honor them now with the medical care, mental health support and jobs they need is our chance to repay them for all those years. I hope that in some small way these stories will remind us all of our duty to them.

May whatever force (if any) rules this F'ed up world bless them and us with peace and happiness.

Tara