A Long Road Back

Chapter 1

The soldier grasped the tarnished brass handle of the heavy glass and metal door and pulled, struggling against a strong, freezing wind that sailed down 42nd street. The gust held the heavy door fast, lingering for a few moments before eventually moving on to more interesting adventures. There were hats to pluck from the heads of unsuspecting shoppers and lonely trees to seek, where choruses of whistling music could be conjured by whipping through their naked branches.

One last heave and the door finally budged. Barely. Just enough to squeeze his shoulders through the resulting narrow gap. He quickly stepped inside before the massive door slammed shut behind him. The soldier stomped his feet, trying to casting off a few of the layers of grimy snow and ice that covered his boots, the quick jolts sending pins and needles up the length of his legs as waves of circulation fought to return.

He moved quickly towards the increasing warmth of the great hall of Grand Central Terminal, grateful for the feeling that was slowly returning to his fingers and toes, overwhelmed by the imposing sights before him. The Main Concourse, huge, cavernous, built to be splendidly majestic, but the ornate details completely unnoticed by the throngs of rush hour commuters that darted between and around each other, completely absorbed by the relative criticalities of track locations and departure schedules.

He perused the crowd from a somewhat safe vantage point on the fringe of the chaotic scene. As always, he first tried to spot other uniforms among the heavy tweed coats and furs. A group of several sailors were spotted as they stood out at five o’clock. The swabs always seemed to swim in schools. A few soldiers sporting the same drab green overcoats as his milled about the coffee wagon at 3 o’clock. He noticed that their movements were a half beat slower than the others. Evidence that their sense of urgency had been recently impacted by more severe consequences than merely missing a train.

It took a few more seconds until he spied the sole marine. His movements slower even than the soldiers, more deliberate, but not in a confident sense, more… careful. A different breed altogether, the leathernecks. Viewing the motion of the solitary warrior left him with a sudden pang of sadness that he couldn’t immediately explain. He knew better than to dwell on it, realizing that the source of his trepidation might actually dawn on him, and that would, as the camp psychologist had put it, not be a positive mental choice. So instead, he stepped up to the information window and asked about the next train to Fall River.

Track 9 to Providence. Ya change there to a local to Fall River, the top of a mostly bald head barked out.

What time does it leave? the soldier asked.

Ten minutes, the man said, once again unwilling to lift his head as he studied nothing in particular on the ancient marble counter in front of him.

The train was about three quarters full and he immediately found a row of empty seats. Stowing his duffel bag in the overhead shelf, he leaned against the window, stretching his legs across the two adjoining open seats. At a little under six feet the seats accommodated most of his legs but not all and his feet hung over into the aisle. He closed his eyes and gradually, starting with his shoulders, every part of his body began to unwind until inch by inch, it finally surrendered to a level of relaxation that it hadn’t experienced for much too long a time. The only exception being his hand, which compulsively sought, then folded over a small, hard bulge in his right coat pocket.

The engine yanked forward precisely on time and soon the comforting, rhythmic movements of the train, speeding over the evenly spaced jointed track, rocked him to sleep. He slept soundly, undisturbed through every stop in New York and Connecticut, awaking briefly in Providence then fully when the shrill voice of the skinny conductor announced, Providence! Last stop, Providence!

Through half open eyes he peered at his wristwatch. It was seven o’clock. He only had about forty five minutes to make it on time. Once again, remembering the small package, he nervously felt for it, and finding it again for what was probably the hundredth time, he left the train.

The local to Fall River left almost immediately and it was close to eight when he asked the cabbie at the Fall River train station to bring him to 436 Lafayette Street. Luckily the house was close and he arrived with five whole minutes to spare.

The cab pulled up to a white two story home that stood one from the corner. It was decorated with strings of red Christmas lights cascading every few feet from the edge of the roof forming gleaming canopies over the wide front porch, illuminating a large green wreath, speckled with small red berries that hung on the front door. White flickering candles provided a warm glow through each window. It was a house that he knew very well, just a few blocks from where he grew up.

An older man, huddling in a heavy winter coat was waiting at the curb. His face lit up as he watched the cab slowly roll to a stop and the soldier could see a wide smile overtake the man’s face as he stooped to look through the taxi’s rear window.

Jack! he exclaimed in an excited but purposely low voice. I was getting worried. Susan’s still upstairs. Everybody’s here. I think Eddie’s on the phone. I heard it ring a few minutes ago.

He grabbed Jack’s hand in two of his, shaking them quickly as he grabbed the duffel bag.

Go on inside! I’ll take care of the cab.

Jack started to protest.

Hurry up will ya? I’ll bring your bag.

Jack knew resistance would be futile and turned towards the house. A woman in the now open doorway was anxiously waving him in. Like the man, an identical wide grin spread plastered across her broad, friendly features.

Oh Jack, I’m so glad you made it. I was so nervous! I was just telling everyone that you wouldn’t make it in time. Susan’s upstairs. She then paused to hug him, wrapping her short, plump arms fiercely around his neck. Her sister, Alice, is with her, making sure that she doesn’t come down yet.

As they moved inside she continued her hushed but excited dialog. "I can’t believe that she hasn’t heard everyone. Alice is playing her radio really loud, maybe that’s why. Come on, Eddie’s waiting on the phone.

The small house was filled with friends and family. When they saw Jack they started to yell and clap.

Quiet! the woman yelled. Susan will hear you!

Well so what? a man who was taking up half of the sofa called out. Get her down here, already. What are we waitin’ for?

Alright, alright, she answered. To Jack, Are you ready?

I hope so. Where’s the phone?

Over there, on the end table. He can hear everything.

Jack picked up the receiver. Hey man, how’s the weather back in Seoul?

Jack! Thank God, you made it!

Of course I made it. The connection’s pretty good from here. How’s it from your side?

I’m getting some static but it should be okay. Are you all set?

Yeah, but Jeez, I’m really nervous.

Nervous? What the hell are you nervous about? Come on, get moving. I don’t want this line to drop off.

Alright, alright, Jack answered. Hold on.

As he placed the receiver down, he turned around and realized that the large crowd was totally quiet as they waited for the woman in charge, Susan’s mother, to bring her daughter down the stairs. Finally the steps creaked loudly as the footsteps came. Susan was in the lead. Her eyes went wide when she saw the crowd of familiar faces. Then her eyes met Jack’s and her mouth dropped open as she gripped the banister. She reached the bottom and stopped, totally unaware of what was happening, her face frozen in an expression of surprise and confusion.

Jack laughed. He took a few steps forward until he came within inches of the speechless girl. He dropped to one knee and finally pulled the precious box from his coat pocket. As he opened it several of the women shrieked and began to cry.

He slowly removed the ring as he looked solemnly up at Susan. Susan, I have a very important question to ask you. Will you marry–- He hesitated for what felt like an hour but was probably only a couple of seconds. –my best friend, Eddie?

What? she managed to stammer.

He’s on the phone, Susan’s mother cried out.

Who’s on the phone? she said slowly, still not grasping what was happening.

Eddie! her mother said.

Eddie’s on the phone?

Someone handed her the receiver

Eddie? she asked softly.

A second later she began to sob. Oh yes! I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll marry you!

The crowd, overly tired of restraining themselves, broke out in loud applause.

Her eyes locked on Jack’s as she took the ring from him. Thank you, she mouthed through a trembling lower lip.

Jack thought she looked beautiful despite the puffy eyes and runny nose. Susan gave him the phone.

Hey Jack, his friend yelled through the steadily increasing static. Thanks pal. How does she look?

She looks beautiful. You’re a lucky man.

Susan’s grinning father took the phone from Jack and began congratulating Eddie.

Don’t hang up. I want to talk to him, too, Ed’s dad said as he reached out, holding tightly to a piece of the receiver as if it was actually a piece of his son.

The rest of the crowd surrounded Susan as she proudly held her hand and slender fingers outstretched, displaying the small round diamond almost completely hidden behind the yellow prongs of the gold ring. Jack moved his way through the herd of family and friends to a safer distance near the front door. Mission completed, he thought to himself as the hectic, joyous scene continued to engulf the small house.

Susan’s father came up to him, evidently having lost the tug of war to Ed’s dad. That was really nice of you Jack. I know it was hard to come all of this way but it means a lot. Thank-you, son. So, where to now?

Where to now? Susan’s mother yelled as she walked up behind her husband. He’s not going anywhere tonight. It’s late. He’s staying with us. As soon as Eddie hangs up, you can call your girlfriend and tell her where you are. She’s in New Jersey isn’t she? I thought that’s what Eddie said.

Yes, Maam. Toms River, New Jersey. I appreciate the offer to stay but I’ve really got to get moving.

Where? the mother asked.

Honey, that’s not our business. Jack knows he’s welcome here, if he wants to stay, her husband answered quickly.

Jack touched the woman’s arm. I‘ll be fine Mrs. Greco. My girlfriend has been waiting a long time to see me and I’m pretty anxious to see her too.

Mrs. Greco immediately brightened. Of course, a handsome boy like you. I bet you can’t wait to see her. But you can’t go all the way back tonight. Not at this hour. What’s her name? Your girlfriend.

Her name is Virginia and she’s waiting for me so I better…

Well you go and call her right now and tell her you’re on your way.

That’s okay, Maam,. It’s a long distance call and I told her I’d be coming in kind of late.

Nonsense. You call her right now. And thank you Jack, for what you did tonight. Mrs. Greco tenderly kissed his cheek then led her husband back to the crowded living room.

Jack sighed. He took a quick look at the front door but could feel Mrs. Greco staring at him from the back of his head. He would have to fight his way through the living room to get to the phone that Eddie had been on but just then spied another phone on a small table next to the staircase. He sat down and as he picked up the receiver, pushed down on the cradle with his forefinger to avoid obtaining a dial tone. After dialing some random numbers he waited a couple of seconds. Then through a broad smile he said a few words, a quick, I love you, I’ll see you soon. Then hung up. Knowing it would be best to avoid any further conversation , he briefly turned as he reached the door waving at whoever might have been looking, then pulled the door open and stepped outside.

Chapter 2

He walked swiftly toward the train station through a thin layer of crusty snow that crunched loudly under his weight in the still night air. He passed house after house that was gaily decorated for the upcoming Christmas holiday. Although he enjoyed the festive appearance of each home, the multicolored lights, snowmen and wreaths spoke of a season that Jack could never appreciate to the same extent that he knew was felt by others. People who had a far deeper sense of significance of the holiday than Jack could ever grasp. As a child he had enjoyed the anticipation of the gifts that came with Christmas morning but even then, that was pretty much the extent of it. He was too young to remember if things were different before his parents died, but he hoped that they had been. After both parents were killed in a car accident, he went to live with his aunt, and his life suddenly took on a very temporal quality.

The childhood that he spent in his aunt’s home, had been a relatively happy one. Having the love of a family member was a great deal better than the lives of many other orphans, but even as a child he had realized that the depth of his happiness seemed so much more shallow than that of his friends. Through them he realized how different joy could be for those who had not experienced the kind of tragedy that brings to light the unbelievable fragility of life.

His aunt’s house was just a few blocks over from the street where he now walked on his way to the station. He briefly contemplated taking a short detour to see the old place again, but for what purpose? His reluctance was not based on the possibility that bad memories might accompany the sight of the house but rather the prospect of eliciting memories devoid of emotions. He feared walking past the place that he had considered his home and not feeling anything at all.

After his aunt died just a few years ago, Jack had put the place up for sale and eventually sold it to an older couple who had moved there from Michigan. That was the year before he had enlisted in the army. He made a few dollars on the sale and it remained untouched in a savings account in the same local bank where his aunt had maintained a very modest account through most of her life.

The snow had taken on an icy slickness as the temperature continued to drop. Steadying himself, he slowed his pace considerably, placing each step more carefully, trying to locate and avoid the shiniest surfaces. The effort should have taken all of his attention, but somehow, for no reason, the last conversation that he’d had with the army shrink abruptly interrupted his concentration. He had seen the psychologist a few times since returning from Korea after experiencing a number of anxiety attacks that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He’d never experienced anything like them before and they were sufficiently severe to convince him that some psychiatric assistance might be in order. The doctor determined that his having grown up with no parents coupled with traumatic reactions surrounding his combat experiences was probably to blame. Doctor Blame, the unfortunate name of the shrink, said that Jack’s ability to simply acknowledge this