Memories In Ink

Epilogue

          October 11th, 1950. After the war, the world slowly went back to normal. Many things had changed through the course of five years. Two months after I returned home, I received a Purple Heart in the mail, as well as a healthy contribution from Uncle Sam due to my injury over seas. We used the money to renovate mother's house, and to open up the shop full time to customers, allowing us to make money. The rest was used for Garry's funeral. There wasn't much a disabled veteran could do to provide for his family, but I knew how to fix cars, so I stuck with it. Sarah and I got married a month after I came home in mother's front yard. Things were different without Garry around, although his father did come visit often, always needing a small repair, I knew he just missed having a son around, so I was happy to oblige.
         There are many days I think back on that camp, the concrete walls, wondering if my marks are still there. If I was to say I almost miss it, I'd be telling the truth. Although it was the lowest point in my life, that lonely cell was the one constant in my life at that time, the one thing that allowed my mind to know was real. The many nights I lay there, I was always alone, George was never there, I read in the paper when I came back home that had died right after he landed in Iwo Jima. To think I made him up, to have a friend, I often wondered if it really was him.
          The doctors said my memory was stronger than it was when I first came back home, that the constant joy of being with my family helped it remain stronger every day. My left eye completely clouded over, due to the hard hits against the walls of the prison, the doctor explained that the blinding pain behind the eye was due to the optic nerve separating from the impact. The headaches were gone now, thanks to a vast array of medicine and the help of the V.A. My home town considered me a hero, as well as Garry. Jim Maddison put up a memorial just down the road from his gas station with Garry and I painted on the sign. The town felt more alive than ever at that point, the turning of the decade helped bring out the light in that ghost town.
Sarah now owned the cafe we met in that warm June morning, and she took the role with pride, even renamed it "Ruby Red's". Ernest still had his farm, selling his usual eggs and livestock, even still had the same old truck in his field. He would often have me work on the truck, but out of fun I would often leave his coil wire unhooked just to see him fuss across the pasture. Momma still made fried chicken like no one in the county, Sarah begged her to cook for Ruby Red's, but she denied, as she wanted to keep it family only.
And as for my ruby red '38 Ford, she was still around. In '48 we bought a brand new 1949 Ford 4 door, this time with a peppy v8, a little family upgrade, and more fun on the road. The '38 still sat in the barn, as it did many late nights with Sarah and i inside, listening to the whir of the radio. The night Sarah and I got married we drove her up to the lake and had our honeymoon. During that trip, our second son was conceived. Sarah gave birth to the beautiful baby boy in March of 46, same birthday as me. There was no question in what to name our newly born boy, Garry. The four of us live with momma still today.
I still held onto the notebook tightly, reading it from time to time, almost admiring its blood stains, and the picture of Sarah paper clipped to the front of it. I even went as far as to rewrite it and publish it as a novel of the times, selling a good few copies of it. And as for Sarah and I, we were still madly in love, loving every day we had together. Max was even still around, although crankier than before, he still was mommas favorite partner around the house.
Sarah passed me the corn as we all sat down to dinner in the brightly lit dining room. Jeremiah was trying to pester Garry. Sarah sat down with a full plate across from me, followed by momma. As we all enjoyed our meal, Sarah kept giving me a look, it was our five year anniversary tonight, and I knew she had something planned. As we finished up, Sarah raised her brow and spoke to me. "I was wondering, would you wanna go for a ride? For old time sake?" She asked as she took a final sip of water. "Sure!" I said as I began rounding up my dishes. "We can take the new car out for a spin." Sara's eyes wandered. "Actually, I was thinking something more in a Ruby red, you know, for the good old days." She said as she winked. Momma grabbed my hand and leaned into me. "I'll watch the kids dear, you go have a fun evening." She said as she smiled and ordered the kids to help her clean up.
The '38 Ford's reliant six putted as we eased down the driveway. Sarah scooted close to me in the cloth seat, laying her head down on my shoulder. The cool fall air whipped her hair as she hung onto me tightly, her eyes drifting up to mine. As we drove into town, the radio began playing: "Praise the Lord and pass the Ammunition." I quickly shut the radio off. "What's wrong Everett?" Sarah asked as she looked puzzled. "I just can't stand that song." I said as I eased the car into third gear along the Highway. The Ruby red Ford glistened like a red rubber ball in the evening light as we passed by Garry's memorial, next to Jim's gas station, with a sign underneath saying: "All gave some, some gave all."