The Books that Never made it

Remember

“So, Dave what are your thoughts on Remembrance Day?”

I glanced up from the pencil I fiddled between my fingers. All my classmates’ eyes were on me, waiting for my answer.

        “I don’t give much thought to it,” I said simply.

Mr. Farley, my English teacher, eyed me overtop his round Harry Potter glasses and stepped around his desk and slowly approached mine.

        “What does that mean, Dave?”

I swallowed and looked over to my friend, Chris who smirked, shaking his head.

        “It means,” I said trying to conceal the smirk that was growing in the corner of my mouth. “That I don’t have any really feelings or thoughts towards Remembrance day.”

Mr. Farley blinked as if I told him to go screw himself. He composed his face and crossed his arms across his sweater vest.

        “So, you don’t care about the soldiers died to protect us? Or how they had to be away from their families for long periods of time, probably alot of them never going to see them again?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “No one forced them to go and fight.”

Mr. Farley frowned and then a little voice perked up to my right.

        “Actually, Dave, some men were forced into the army. In some places, every family had to do their share and give up the men in their town or village that were old enough to fight in the war,” Emily the goody-two-shoes in my class said.

I just rolled my eyes. “Teacher’s pet!” I coughed into my arm; the whole class bursted into laughter, except Mr. Farley who didn't look so impressed.

        “Class dismissed,” he said as the bell rang out and everyone grabbed their bags.

I followed Chris, avoiding Mr. Farley’s death stare as I left the class.

        “You were pretty ballsy out there,” Chris said as we walked down the hall.

        “How?” I asked slinging my gym strip bag over my shoulder.

        “Saying how you didn’t care for Remembrance day, you were kidding weren’t you?” Chris eyed me with his deep brown eyes.

I snickered. “Come on, Chris. It’s a bunch of crap, so what about taking two minutes of silence and all that shit. War goes on everyday and we go on like it never happens and then you expect me to care on day of the year? I have better things to do.”

Chris slowed his walking and turned on me. “Hey man, that’s harsh. My dad served in the war and he’s gone because of it. Sure we don’t really care much for war when it goes on every day, but we can at least lend two minutes of our time to think of those who died on just one day of the year for us.”

I snorted. “Well I’m sorry I don’t see it like that.”

        “Imagine you being a soldier and how scared you would be.” Chris said with his eyebrows knitted together.

I glanced at a squad of cheerleaders walking by. “I don’t get scared.”

        “Come on, Chris, I know you. Everyone is scared of something.” He glanced down at his hands. “I was scared that I was gonna lose my dad, but I guess I don’t have to be afraid anymore.” He touched the dog tags that hung around his neck.

I rolled my eyes. “Geez, I think I hear a violin. I gotta go to gym, I’ll see ya later,” I said lightly punching him in the shoulder.

        “Yeah, I’ll see ya later,” he said walking away, his eyes drawn to the floor as he walked away somberly.