The Dark

“What was it like?” my father asked. I didn’t ask why he was here.

“I can’t even begin to explain. Words won’t lend themselves to me because it’s just too graphic. I can only hold onto memories that are so deteriorated that they look like still photographs in my mind.”

My father didn’t say a word. He was staring at my lips like he was still processing what I had said. He looked ghostly but that didn’t surprise me since he had died six years ago. The room was icy despite it being summer and my eyes couldn’t register any details. It was black all around. Nothing existed in the space besides my father and I in our two opposite chairs.

“Photographs?” was the only word my father spit out in response to me. His voice was gruff and panicked me a bit.

“It’s so redundant. I can only dream about this picture of the sky that I saw back in France as the boys and I were camped in a field.”

“What’s in the sky, Ira?”

“A plane, it’s dropping some horrible weapon on us that looks like a star that’s falling out of the sky. Dad, I’m hanging on by a thread. I also keep thinking about this torched town back in France-”

“Ira don’t tell me anything. I’ve seen my share in my time.”

“I missed you dad. You’ve been gone for six years, since I was twelve.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?” Again my father fell into silence and it seemed like the darkness was closing in on us. “Listen, dad, I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know what here is. I just want to be back with my boys, marching over French fields. We’re right on this German group’s tail. I want to go back to being a hero.”

“Ira you’ve done enough. Give up and move on from here.”

“I don’t know if I can. I want to end this war. I want to get back to my Eloise and see if she’ll forgive me for all the French women I threw money at.” A small laugh escaped my lips. “I’ve even learned some French because of all those ladies. Eagle eye, our sniper is teaching me some Russian. Dagger is sharing his German gold tooth collection. We want to avenge Bucky. I’ve got so much to do.”

“Ira, in the first world war, I accomplished everything I wanted to, but when I came home I still felt empty. That feeling you’re chasing, it doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t believe that. This war has been going for four years. I lost good people in Pearl Harbor, some others are scattered throughout France. This war has changed the world, and I will win.”

“You seek revenge. It’s never the answer.”

“How would you know?”

“What I experienced in my war, is like you said earlier. There are no words.”

“Dad, what is here?”

“The door to the other side. This is death. This is the dark.”

“Death? I can’t leave. Not yet.”

“You can’t go back. You can only go forward.”

“Then I’ll stay here.”

“If you stay you will relive that night sky, with that plane delivering you a falling star, forever. You’ll miss things but it’s better than living in the dark.”

“What will I miss? Am I allowed to know?”

From the dark, a folder materialized into my father’s hands.

“You can look, but it won’t change a thing. I will warn you, what you never know, you’ll never miss.”

“Show me.”

The folder was transferred to my hands. I carefully opened it with the tip of my fingernail. I was met with a photo of Eloise, all done up in white, a veil covering her face. My muscles tensed up at this image. Eloise would never marry me.

“Does Eloise get her baby? She wanted nothing more than a child,” I said, staring at the photograph.

“She has her baby. A little boy, Ira Jr.”

I closed the folder, not wanting to look at another image. I sprung up and flung the folder. Photographs flew everywhere but were soon absorbed by the dark. I found my seat and stared at my father.

“Dad, why did you have to be my reaper? It wouldn’t hurt as much if it was some French girl walking me to the other side.”

“Ira, if you come with me, you don’t have to be angry anymore.”

“I have one more question. Do we win the war?”

“You win, Ira.”

I stood and reached out my hand. My father grabbed it and squeezed. I hadn’t felt his touch since I last saw him in the hospital.

“I’m ready,” I said. My father nodded and then he led me out of the dark.