Song for Night (13 page)
“There are only two things a man should fear,” he told me once. “God and women. That’s all.” Then he laughed; John Wayne a.k.a., Major Essien. Now I know he couldn’t have been a real major. Majors don’t lead platoons, lieutenants do. I wonder why I kept him out of my mental roll call that night.
The only other person who seemed immune to fear was Ijeoma. Maybe it is no coincidence they are both dead. Now though, as I embark across the river of the dead in a coffin, I wish for some of their fearlessness.
It is useless; I am shivering like a wet cat.
Will Is an Emphatic Finger Pointing
The coffin spins around like a leaf turning in an eddy. No matter how hard I try to paddle, it keeps spinning in the same place, midway across the river.
Frustrated, I shoot my gun into the air until I run out of ammo and the trigger just clicks, the hammer echoing metallically. Sobbing, I watch as my platoon gets up and heads off, into the forest. They don’t see or hear me. How is that possible? I’m not that far away.
Fuck this war
, I think.
Fuck it all
.
Tired; I am so tired. I give in and lie back in the coffin. So tired; too tired.
As I drift off to sleep, I feel the coffin drifting toward shore.
I don’t care anymore.
Home Is a Palm Fisted to the Heart
It is late evening when the coffin finally bumps up against the opposite shore. Wearily, I climb out. There is a house on the bank and all the lights are burning. I drop my gun and my bayonet and my machete. I am too tired, I can’t do this anymore. If death is what awaits me, I want to face it without fear. I’ve had enough of that.
There is a woman sitting on the veranda on a porch swing. She is young and smiling and happy. As I approach, I realize who she is. It can’t be, but it is.
My mother looks toward me and holds out her arms. I stumble into them and she pats me on the back.
“My Luck, My Luck,” she says. “You are home.”
I pull back and look at her. I am trying to make sense of it, to think, but I can’t focus.
“Mother,” I say, and my voice has returned.
My thanks to: Percival Everett, Cristina Garcia, Sarah Valentine, Steve Isoardi, Jeannette Lindsay, Peter Orner, Brad Kessler, Dave Eggers, Johnny Temple, Johanna Ingalls, Ellen Levine, Beth Shube, Ron Gottesman, Kachi Akoma, Rebecca Brown, Titi Osu, Matthew Shenoda, Anna Silver, Elaine Attias, Nick Rosen, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, Joey Dosik, and Elias Wondimu.
My family.
All my friends.
