Magnet & Steele (22 page)

Nancy was sewing in the new sewing
room that Angelo had built for her with spools of thread and fabric
sprawled all over her newly built six foot cutting table when Nancy
heard a faint knock on her front door.

“Can you get that?” She yelled out
the doorway and into the hallway; nothing, no answer…another knock
at the door. “Hello?” She asked out again, no answer. “Oh, with all
the effort to call you, I could have answered the door myself,” she
said under her breath.

She threw down her cutting shears
and walked around her table and towards the doorway when she opened
the door; outside was a somewhat familiar face: Francine with long,
auburn wavy hair, a silk scarf capping her head and running along
down the depth of her back, a frilly loose colorful blouse draping
off one exposed shoulder with wide bell bottoms that covered her
feet. She was dressed for the point of time: the Crusade against
the War in Vietnam.

“Mom! Surprise!” She shouted,
waiving her hands up in the air.

Nancy was dumb-founded and
definitely unprepared. She looked down past her and then saw her
granddaughter for the very first time. Sara, now age two, stood
behind Francine’s leg thinking that her mother’s corduroys could
hide her tiny frame. Nancy bent down to her level. “Oh my…” she
said, choking back tears, “Sara pumpkin, you’re getting so
big.”

“Aren’t you gonna ask us to come
in?” Francine asked her mother who just stood there with her jaw
still on the floor.

“Yes!” Nancy exclaimed, taking in a
breath to calm herself down. “Yes, yes, of course, please come
in.”

Nancy escorted Francine to where she
was sewing and then suddenly, and on cue, Donna Magnet appears out
of nowhere.

Tall and thin, with dark auburn hair
and brown eyes, she had the same shape of mouth and eyes as
Francine, same color hair, but clearly, not as
attractive.

Francine and Donna just stare; in
awe of one another’s existence, gawking at one another’s
likeness.

Nancy shot looks at the both of them
before saying, “Oh Fran honey, I don’t think you’ve ever
met—”

“Donna,” Francine finished for
her.

Francine simply stared at her mirror
image and she back at Francine. Neither of them dared move, nor
even said hello. They both knew instantly who the other person was
and simultaneously, a gratifying smile embraced Francine’s face
because it all made perfect sense.

“Francine Steele,” Donna let go
finally.

Nancy didn’t connect the resemblance
until that very moment. Donna had been living with them for awhile
now and she never really made the correlation.

Francine nodded her head.
“Where’s—”

Nancy cut her daughter off, “Oh Fran
honey, I would have called you, but you didn’t leave me a number.
I’ve been trying to find you, but all my letters kept coming back
Return to Sender. We haven’t heard from you for over two years…I
would have called you.”

Francine turned away from Donna now
and stared at her mother in a panic. “What?”

“I would have called you…” Nancy
said again, only this time touching her daughter’s
shoulder.

“Mom, it’s perfectly OK,” Francine
quipped, patting her mother’s hand and then walking away to survey
the cotton fabric sprawled all over her sewing table. “I’m sorry I
never wrote to you or leave you a phone number…After the divorce; I
just needed to live my life, me and Sara. I’ve been attending peace
marches and volunteering up north, I just got caught up in the
battle to end this damn war. I’m on a journey…a crusade for
harmony.”

“Oh Fran honey,” Nancy gushed,
wrapping her two hands to her face, “I would have called
you.”

Donna sat down on an empty chair
beside the sewing machine. Francine continued to gape at her and
made her feel uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry mom for just barging in
like this—”

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize
Francine, you’re family,” Donna said cryptically.

Seconds later, Christopher Magnet,
age four, wormed his way up behind Nancy and tugged at her
shirt.

“Granny, more juice peez,” he said
shoving a Tupperware cup into Nancy’s open hand.

“Oh Chris, Granny will be there in a
moment. Why don’t you show Sara your toys in your room?”

Francine does a double-take when the
little boy hobbled over to lead Sara out by her arm. Looking away
from her daughter, she asked her mother gingerly, “Mom, where’s
Angelo?”

“He’s working late today,” Nancy
responded, taking a look at Donna who was fiddling with a
bobbin.

Francine followed her mother’s eyes
and then turned to Donna herself and inquired, “Donna? Where’s
Derrie?”

Donna suddenly looked away from her
curiosity and met eyes with Nancy.

Nancy stepped into Francine, “Fran
honey, why don’t you sit down, or better yet, would you like a cold
drink—perhaps some Seven-Up?”

Francine felt put on the spot from
all the side-stepping and stepped away from her mother. “Mom,
where’s Derrie?”

Defeated, Nancy finally sat down
abruptly and accidently spilt over a tub of thread spools onto the
floor.

“Mom,” Francine laughed for some
reason; the whole thing starting to get suspicious. “What’s the
matter? You seem so…nervous.” Francine then glanced over at Donna,
only Donna had covered her mouth over by her hand with tears in her
eyes.

“Fran honey, my God!” Nancy
frantically exclaimed, “I tried to find you, but the letters kept
coming back…Return to Sender, Address Unknown. I tried to call you,
but your line had been disconnected.”

Francine was definitely upset now.
“Mom, what the hell’s going on here? What happened?”

Donna cleared her throat and wiped
away her tears. “Francine, you don’t have to put on a brave face
just for my sake.”

Francine was not only bothered now
she was beginning to get worried. “Mom? Where’s Derrie? Is he
playing football? Is he on the road? Did he go to training camp?”
She asked, watching Donnas’ eyes fill up with water
again.

Nancy went for her daughter again
with open arms but Francine swatted her soothing away. “Oh Fran
honey…”

“No, mom…stop it—will somebody just
tell me what the hell is going on?”

“I feel so bad right now, I feel so
selfish,” Donna whimpered at this moment, “I didn’t want to tell
you at first, but now I feel like you should know.”

Francine shook her head, she was
about to jump out of her skin! “OK, now you’re both scaring me,
mom? Why is she crying? Where did Derrie go? Did he abandon
her?”

Nancy swallowed hard when Donna
continued to talk for the both of them.

“Derrie was
always—constantly—talking about you. About the things you did
together, places you went. I got so sick of it sometimes! He
volunteered—”

“What!?”

“He went to Vietnam about a year
ago, he said he hated to see all his buddies…every one of
them…drafted…killed, and drafted,” Donna explained, wiping away her
tears. “He went and registered…left football…left me and
Christopher.”

Francine still could not, and maybe
would not open up her ears to hear the God awful truth. “What?
Who’s drafted? I don’t understand…what? Derrie left football?
Derrie left football or got drafted in football? Which one is
it?”

Donna got up and slapped Francine
across her face.

What the hell?!

Francine suddenly touched the side
of her face as Nancy immediately came to her rescue and wrapped her
arms around Francine’s shoulders for comfort.

“Listen, will you!” Donna exclaimed
dramatically. “I’m trying to tell you what happened, but you only
want to hear what you obviously came here for! But Derrie’s not
here, he’ll never be here!”

“Oh Fran honey,” Nancy spoke up
next, twirling her daughter around to face her. “I’m so sorry; we
tried to find you, tried to tell you.”

“He’s missing in action,” Donna
divulged after that.

“Missing…in action?” Francine
repeated.

“Presumed dead.”

WHAT?!

Francine was beside herself and fell
to the ground immediately resting on her knees.

“I’m so sorry Francine,” Nancy
uttered lastly, reaching out for her daughter a second time and
trying to pull her up.

The room was now spinning as
Francine became hysterical. “Oh…mom,” and reached out finally for
Nancy’s embrace.

Nancy yanked her daughter into her
chest and held their bodies close. “Oh baby, I know…I
know.”

“Oh mom,” she cried within her
mother’s confine, “Oh mom, not Derrie too, oh God, not Derrie
too!”

Donna eerily walked out of the room
and over to her purse hanging on a nearby doorknob and opened it up
to pull out a crumpled folded envelope from within her wallet. She
then slowly walked back into the sewing room and over to the sewing
table and gently placed the envelope down. “I’m sorry Francine, but
this was meant for you.”

Francine let go of her mother and
leered at Donna before looking over at the letter on the table;
which was already opened. A strange moment goes by; all of them
silent, still, not breathing when Francine, calm and collected now,
slowly released her mother and headed off to the foyer
alone.

Wiping away her tears first, she
backed herself against the wall, away from the view of her mother
and Donna and pulled out the piece of paper that was inside the
envelope. It read: “Dear Fran, I’ve been denying myself of two
things…the love I have for you, and the love I have for this great
country of ours. I feel that it’s my duty Fran that America
shouldn’t have to ask, that’s why I’ve enlisted,” she continued to
read, “It’s the least I can do. I love you Francine, ever since the
day you became my wife in high school, and I fell in love with you.
I keep reliving those moments we had in the limo and I want more. I
need you in my life Francine, I can’t exist without you. Will you
marry me?”

Within looking up and beyond out to
nowhere, Francine’s arm suddenly descended with the letter inside
her hand. Numb now and on the verge of lunacy, she dropped the
letter and then gazed down at it as it slowly…

glided…to…the…

floor.

Viet Cong Prisoner of War
Camp

Pvt. Derek Magnet, F CO, 2nd BN of
the 27th Marine Regiment has been captured by the Viet Cong and has
been placed inside a makeshift cell made out of sturdy bamboo rods.
The rods have been repositioned into the ground to stick straight
up at least ten feet high, with sharp jagged edges extending at the
ends to ensure no prisoner was capable of escaping.

Derrie has been in this jail cell
for more than three days now and physically he begins to realize
that his squad might not be searching for him. He begins to
mentally record his experience…

4th Day Captured

At night, I stay up. I can’t sleep,
I’m exhausted, hungry, but still I have the will to survive. Pvt.
Hawkins, USAF sits next to me and he’s shivering. I can’t tell if
it’s because he’s cold or he’s just scared. I’m scared too, but I’m
more determined to survive, I have to be when my squad comes
looking. I don’t know what’s in store for me. Not sure of anything
anymore. Is anybody looking for us?

10th Day Captured

Pvt. Hawkins is definitely scared, I
heard his sniffling last night, we all bundle up close for warmth.
I’m still hungry and thirsty now that the VC has decided not to
feed us. They think by starving us, it will beat us down. But I
won’t be defeated.

15th Day Captured

They fed us today. Rice and some
kind of green root, but the rations were slim to nothing. I didn’t
get to eat very much, but I’m grateful. The gooks are cruel, but so
is this war. The VC looks friendly though. Sometimes I watch the VC
soldiers argue amongst themselves and it’s almost comical. I’m not
sure if they’re joking around, making fun of one another or said a
funny joke. But as soon as one of them says something, they all
laugh. Or maybe, the one that is making everyone laugh is in
charge.