The Strain

We attended my dad's retirement ceremony a week later. I would be lying if I told you that I wasn't glad that he was back home from Bosnia. His Army career spanned for 30 long years seeing the world in a way hardly anyone would ever know. The majority of those years were spent in the National Gaurd to be more specific. There was a time in his career when he was active duty during the Vietnam war when he was drafted. Dad never talked about any of his service (not that I was expecting him to), but all the metals on his chest tended to do the talking. His Gaurd unit awarded him a plaque for all his years of service. Mom and I stood beside him in front of his battalion as he was ready to give his final remarks to his unit before changing command. I think I saw a tear in my dad's eye when he said his final goodbyes to the Army.

"Soldiers." He stated with a glimmer in his eye, "I can truly say that it has been something special to be apart of the United States Army. The Army has truly changed my life in ways I woulda never thought. I remember receiving the letter that changed my life in 1966. It was a draft letter from Uncle Sam saying that sooner or later I would be going to Vietnam. Was I scared? Absolutely. I was terrified. But I, along with thousands of other Americans, went anyways." Dad paused for a moment to collect his thoughts in an effort to convey what he was feeling into words. I imagine he never liked to drag out any statements he made to his soldiers. Short, simple, and effective was my dad's motto through and through. He cleared his throat and continued his speech. "I was a lost kid... I know without a shadow of a doubt that the town sherriff knew me on a first hand basis. One night, the night I got my draft notice, I pulled a stupid stunt attempting to jack some poor man's car to skip town to try to dodge the draft. Sure enough the sherriff caught me, but there was something different. He said, "Son I'm not gonna put you behind bars tonight, because you have an opportunity. I know that you're a scared kid, but you can take a bad situation and turn it into something that'll benifit you and give back to your country. You can turn suckin into success. You have the opportunity to leave the old you behind." So that night the choice was simple. The choice was jail or the Army. Months passed, and I found myself in the Signal Corps attached to an Infantry Unit in 1967 stationed in South Vietnam. My time was up in '69, and I left the Army along with the difficult memories that came from those two years of service. But soldiers I'll say this: I stepped back into a world that didn't want us Vietnam veterans." Dad briefly paused again putting together his thoughts once more as the reality of retirement settled in, and I think he began to realize that this time his words didn't have to be so brief. He looked at my mom and I with a warm grin, took my mom's hand, and then turned his head to his soldiers. "Needless to say I was lost when I came home, and over a short span of time I realized that this..." He said pointing the US ARMY name tape on his BDU's "you all wearing this uniform... are and always will be a huge extension of my family. I came back into the fold in '71 as a National Gaurdsman, and standing here today I'm still astonished at how this very unit gave me so many amazing experiences to help further my career in the Army, meet a plethora of amazing young soldiers most of which who became platoon leaders alongside me, and for giving me a sense of purpose for the last 28 years. Before I end this little speech I wanna say that I appreciate the warm send off and kind words, but I'm not the one to be thanking believe it or not. I'm not a hero. The real heroes are my NCO's, the lower enlisted who follow thier lead, and the families who've faithfully stood behind thier soldiers." My dad once again looked at my mom and I. My mom just smiled back, and I think she was even about to cry. I must admit I was feeling like I was tearing up. That day I was listening to a truly amazing hero tell his story. He was Superman in the flesh. Practically Captain America. He continued, still admiring mom and me, by saying, "A wise man once said that a soldier doesn't fight because of what's in front of him. A soldier fights because of the people behind him. Quite frankly, I'm not worried about the success of this unit when I'm gone." Dad turned his attention back to the soldiers standing in formation. "You've all shown time and time again that we were ready to answer the call of duty when our nation needed us most. We answered the call in 1990 when we were deployed to Kuwait and Iraq, we answered the call again over these past couple of years in Bosnia, and every call in between wether it be a tornado or a flood. YOU ALL were there, and I thank you for that. Always continue to uphold our Army standard, and always stick with your battle buddies for years to come. If you continue to do those things all of you are gonna be alright in the next one. Now... I think it's time that I hang up the boots and come on home."

The Brigade Commander shook his hand and gave a few words. Afterwards dad embraced us in the biggest hug he could give. My mom couldn't hold back any of her tears anymore. "I'm so thankful that you two were always there when I was my weakest." Dad said looking at us with puffy red eyes and a quivering smile. Lieutenant Colonel Kendo was his name. He was Superman in the flesh. Practically Captain America. Lieutenant Colonel Kendo was MY dad, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

That morning was definitely a proud moment for our small family. We were enthralled to have dad back with us, but it didn't take long for me to feel like a piece of me was missing along with Elena and Jake once again. The retirement ceremony was a nice break to take my mind off of those two, but I still felt guilty. I felt unsatisfied by the conclusion of the short investigation that took place. The thoughts from that night creeped in and out of my head. I was a zombie enslaved by the final images of my two friends. How was I the only one walking down that dark foggy trail alone and unscathed? The thought of both Elena and Jake no longer being alive crossed my mind often. The car ride home was quiet, and in the silence I found myself now lost in the sea of thought. The suddle imagery once again manifested itself ruling my undivided attention like usual. Most of my days were spent with attempting to find any information myself on their whereabouts, and go into those woods and find them. Of course a scheme such as that was easier said than done. All the news papers said the same thing. We had big government suits in town for a brief time, but it seemed like they were too busy talking to the press, and keeping search parties out of the woods. Even the person we saw in the woods wasn't mentioned in any "statement" I made. Speaking of such, that entire investigation just blew over. Surely I should have been under more extensive questioning than what I was subjected to. Not to mention, I probably should've spent some time behind bars as well seeing that I was the only one out there with them.

We arrived home, and dad settled back in. Mom had a big dinner ready for the family. The house was bright and clean and smelled of an assortment of roast beef, vegetables, and her homemade apple pie for dessert with a helping of vanilla ice cream. Mom even attempted to invite Jake and Elena's parents over to get them out of thier house, so they could spend time around other people. They never picked up the phone, nor did they answer thier door bell. Sometimes I would walk past thier home and hear sobbing from thier mother in the second floor. At other times I would hear Jake and Elena's parents arguing. As for what they were arguing about, I couldn't tell you. On the rare occasion that I catch a glimpse of them in town I can always feel thier mother glaring at me. There was no need for words to know that there was some level of hatred she had for me. I could picture her saying "It should've been you." as she would glare at me passing by. I was determined to find a way to fix this. Somehow. Someway. I was going to bring some sort of closer to thier parents.

Another day came to a close, and I rested my head on my pillow hearing those final words, "Be careful Joseph." ringing between my ears. Eventually I went to sleep, but the only home I had waiting for me in dreamland was in the fog, amongst the twisted trees and withered flowers along the creek, and that pitch fork wielding silhouette. The ghost of the forest.

I woke up on that forest floor. The clouds above me were black, and the thunder rolled above me. When I stood up and looked around me I noticed that I was lost in sea of mist, and I could hear whispers in that mist. I was in that place were I experienced my final moments with my friends. I was at that same creek were Jake found the ration and the shell casings, and where Elena and I skipped rocks across the creek. I was standing in my second home. There was somebody in the mist. They were watching me. Taunting me. Somebody was there with me, and they weren't friendly. Or perhaps... maybe it was something rather than somebody. I felt a deep pit form in my stomach as I searched for who or what was in the fog. I could feel thier eyes studying me through the trees. It was a feeling that left me powerless against this omniscient force in the fog. I felt myself no longer able to breath, and I saw them. A pair of pale, yellow, beedy eyes were glaring at me somewhat like Elena and Jake's mother did. That very beedy eyed person hiding in the fog emerged from between the trees. The figure looked like a man and stood like a man, but there had to be something... inhuman about him. It wasn't holding a pitch fork this time, but it had in its possession something more sinister. It reached down at its feet and appeared to have picked up an object. That object... was Jake's old, rusty trowel. The shadow then tilted its head to his right side. I heard the cold, hollow cracking of his neck, and then I heard the same three word anthem that has been circulating in my brain for the past number of days... "Be careful Joseph." The anthem rang through the thick air with a deep, raspy tone sending shivers down my spine. I couldn't move. I tried crying out for help in my sleep! I tried fighting as hard as possible to move! Then I heard laughter echoing through the trees. It was the laughter of a little girl at first, but the sound descended into haunting wails. It decayed into ear piercing, distorted sounds of Jake and Elena's mom sobbing. I wanted out! "Help! HELP ME!" I attempted to scream, but no sound came of it. My eye lids eventually pryed themselves open. I was breathing heavily in a pool of sweat desperately trying to catch all of my breath I felt I had lost. "When is this gonna end?" I whimpered. I said cupping my face in my hands. I don't know what hell is like, but that was the closest I ever wanted to get to it.

Minutes passed as I was catching my breath. I looked over to my clock which read 5:30 am. Tired and dreary from yet another sleep deprived night, I stumbled my way downstairs to the kitchen to get something to eat. My dad was sitting, coffee in hand, at the round table we had just off in the dining room. "Do you always wake up this early?" He said taking a sip of joe. "Not usually." I said as I poked my head into the fridge to grab some left overs.

"You sleepin well?" He asked.

"I guess." I answered, "I just stay up really late and still wake up early."

"You look like you had a night terror or something. Just don't look the same since before I left." Dad stated.

I put some of last night's leftovers in the microwave and shrugged my shoulders at his response. I probably was beginning to look worse for wear on the account of little sleep. "I know Jake and Elena are missing." When my dad said those words a bad churning began to take place in my stomach. "I understand the feeling of what it is to have friends missing or passed on. If it's any consolation, this too will come to pass. Took me awhile to find my way again, but here I am." The alarm on the microwave started beeping, so I took my food out and sat with my dad at the table where I noticed that dad was reading a news paper article about the investigation that took place here weeks ago. "People tell me that they're just missing, and they're gonna be found. I don't think that. I think they're gonna be found, but..." I hated that I had to say these words, "I don't think they're gonna be alive." Dad sat and silence and slowly nodded his head. He took another sip of coffee and let out a drawn out sigh. "I'm not tryna sound morbid when I say this, but... that seems to be the most realistic case. And son, I'm sorry. I know they were great people to you, and life is a cruel thing when things like this happen. Happened to me more times than I would've liked 'em to." Dad said. We sat in silence for a moment as dad seemed to gather his thoughts like he usually did before concocting a remedy for the world's whoahs. "What can you do here and now and forever foward that would... give you a life worth living? Because this, you losing sleep and feeling guilt and anxiety, is not a way to live. Especially with you going to college soon, and especially with the responsibilities you're about to take on. So what can you do to fix what's broken on the inside?" My dad sat and watched as I searched for an answer for him. "What would honestly fix this... is if I went out there and found them myself." I replied. My dad's eyebrows raised ever so slightly. He gripped his coffee mug a little tighter and leaned foward in his chair. His eyebrows lowered morphing his expression into a seemingly angered expression. "Are you saying that because of emotions, or because of rational thought?" He asked in a lowered voice.

"I think by now it's a pretty rational response to an irrational series of events." I replied.

"Son," My dad said to me in a still soft voice, "I know good and well that sometimes the good Lord doesn't give us the treasures we want, but instead the ones we need. From what I see I think you're gonna just be worse off by finding something out there that'll really change you forever."

"No... no I think after a rather long time of feeling... accused I guess... it's time that someone does something to bring some closer to this community dad. You can't tell me that we all saw the sherriff, FBI, some other Army looking guys, and still... they found nothing." I replied.

Dad just sat and stared at me for a little longer. I sensed that he was plotting his next verbal move. Was he trying to hide something like the others? Or was he solely trying to stop me because he genuinely cared? The question he ask next only raised more suspicion that maybe there was something more to that ghost in the woods. "So they never came back from "the woods". What part of the woods? Were there any distinguishable characteristics? Fences, buildings, anything?" He asked with a stone wall stare on his face. I could feel anxiety begin to boil up in my head as the atmosphere of the room changed. He's interrogating me I thought. These questions, and the tone of his questioning seemed all too familiar. Obviously this wasn't a normal conversation between he and I, so I told him. Something in my gut was telling me not to, but I didn't know why. "The only thing I can think of off the top of my head is that there were a lotta dead plants and things. No animals around. Just pretty thick fog all around and the trees were... different." I answered rubbing the back of my neck. "Relax. You're not in any trouble." Dad said, "You all didn't find anything out there did you? Didn't touch anything? No digging around?" The immediate thought that came to mind was Jake digging up those rations and shell casings. What was wrong? I began to think that the ghost was the least of what was going on. "Jake dug up some shell casings, and a military ration from '66." I answered. Dad just continued to stare straight through me. He reeled his grip from his coffee mug and slowly rose his seat. Dad was now towering over me continuing to put pressure on me with his eyes. "Joseph, when I ask you this you need to be totally honest. Before you left outta those woods: Did you touch anything?" Dad asked with his hand on my shoulder now. I could see he was examining my sweaty forehead for some reason. "Elena and I skipped rocks across the creek, but that was about all I picked up out there." I replied. Dad's attention now went to the palms of my hands. I don't know what he was looking for, but I suppose everything seemed fine went he let go of them and sat back down. My dad had one last question for me. This was the very question that confirmed to me that there was a conspiracy of sorts. "Did you feel sick when you came back home?"

To be continued...