The End Of Summer (Oneshot)

The End Of Summer

                               I sit with my back to the wall and take a chug from the whiskey bottle in my hand.

                              "Hey, pass that here." Says my buddy, Stan. I hand it to him and he takes a large gulp from it.

                              Seated in the shadows of Stan's bedroom are him, me, our friends Jack, Melissa, and Brian, and Brian's older brother, Henry. We've gathered here tonight, to drink and fight against the rapid vanishing of our youth. Tomorrow, the train is coming for all of us, to take us on part of our journey to go fight the war in Vietnam.

                             In the silence of the room, I can here the soft noises of Stan's younger siblings, George and Rachel, scuffling playfully in the hall and of his mother, Valerie, cooking dinner. A train whistle blows in the distance, a grim foreshadowing of the day to come.

                             I remember the day that Henry was drafted. We had been sitting on Brian's couch, when he came in with a stack of mail in his hands. I watched as he stood by the door, tearing into an envelope that was on the top. "They're drafting me." Was all he said.

                            I yank the bottle from Stan's hand and try to chug away the painful memory. "Hey, save some for the rest of us." Says Jack. He was the next one to be called upon. I remember standing against the chainlink fence of our school's baseball field, and he came right up to me.

                           "Joey, I got my card." Had been his words. And all I could do was hug him. How else do you comfort a friend who probably just received his death sentence?

                           Jack suddenly strikes up a cigarette. "Care if I smoke, Stan?"

                           "Go ahead." Replies Stan with a shrug.

                           Jack takes a long drag and closes his eyes, blowing a smoke ring into the still air.

                           "Jack, can I have one?" Asks Melissa, climbing off the bunk bed ladder and coming to sit beside him on the floor. He hands her one and lights the end with his Zippo.

                           "I'm comin' home." Says Stan. "I don't care what happens. I'm not goin' down." He adds, nervously wiping his hands on his pants.

                           For Stan the war was very personal. His Dad had served two years ago, and his plane was shot down. Since then, Stan's blamed every politician, every soldier, and pretty much everyone who's ever touched a gun for breaking up his family.

                         We received our cards on the same day. I went out to get the mail and opened up one of the envelopes to my very own draft card, just like Jack and Henry.

                         One hour later, I received a call from Stan, and he said, "I'll leave Joey! I swear I will!" And I had to talk to him and get him to accept his new reality. The next day we learned Brian had been drafted too.

                          "I know you'll come back, Stan." I say, putting my hand on his shoulder.

                          Melissa lays her head on Henry's shoulder. "I hope I come home. I mean, I'm only nineteen. I'm not ready to die yet."

                          I felt bad for her. She wasn't drafted, but she still had no choice in the matter. Her father had fought in Korea, and he subsequently forced all of his children into enlistment. His three older sons, and now his only daughter.

                          "I remember, when we were kids," Mused Brian. "And the world was so small." A bittersweet grin spreads across his face, then quickly disappears. "Then this happens."

                         Henry gets up and opens the bedroom window halfway. We all get up and gather behind him.

                         Looking down on our sleepy little town, half-illuminated by the setting sun, old memories play through my mind. Mostly of Brian and me playing catch with Henry, and yelling at him for throwing the ball too hard, and spending nearly every Saturday at the library reading poetry with Melissa. It all seems so...old. So...far away now.

                        I take in a breath of the warm night air. I know I'm gonna wanna remember this forever. Because tonight we're just kids, but when that sun comes up tomorrow, we'll be soldiers.