Coming Home
Charles Livesay
Becca, 9, and Jackson, 7, already buckled up in the back, barley holding in their excitement despite how hard the “early morning z’s” are tugging on their eye lids.
“Are y’all excited?” Heather asks her children as she gets in the car.
Both answer with a joyful “yes, momma!”
Even though the excitement was great and the date highly anticipated as soon as the car hit the pavement the children were already asleep without showing any signs of waking up for the rest of the drive. Listening to the radio while driving Heather’s mind began to wander, asking herself “What will I do when I see him? What will I say? How will the kids react, it has been so long.” Heather’s husband, Mark, was deployed to Afghanistan exactly 1 year and 6 months ago with little to no opportunity of communication other than an occasional skype call or distant letters. Heather began to think about how everything was while Mark was home last, and asked herself, “Will things be the same?”
In effort to put her thoughts to rest Heather turned up the music enough to sing along but made sure not to wake up Becca and Jackson. A couple hours would come to pass and as each minute passed the anticipation would grow because they were getting closer to the airport. Heather, knowing for that the airport was off the next exit, she looked at her watch and she could tell it would be almost perfect timing because Mark’s flight was scheduled to land in the next 15 or 20 minutes. With excitement she quickly turned around for a second to wake her kids.
Mark had finally landed and he could hardly wait to see his family. Rushing out into the terminal expecting to see his wife and kids waiting for him, but they were not there yet.
“I guess they are running a little behind.” Mark said to himself.
He found an empty seat and decided to wait there. Hours would pass, and Mark wandered around frantically looking for his family at all entrances and terminals. After about an hour of searching, Mark was caught off guard by the sound a man saying “Mr. Johnson?” Unexpectedly, there were two police officers.
Mark replied, “Yes, I am Mr. Johnson. What is this about?”
“Could you come with us please, sir?”
They turned a began to walk towards a security office just down the hall and Mark followed. Once in the room, “what is this about?” asked Mark. A long moment of silence would take place as the two officers looked at each other, then back at Mark, and back at each other. Beginning to get impatient, Mark raised his voice, “what is this about?!” One of the officers dropped his head, then look Mark in the eyes,
“Mr. Johnson, your wife and children were involved in a car accident. There was a truck who had gotten turned around by mistake and as your wife entered an exit lane heading here and was met head on. Your wife and kids were killed instantly. I am so sorry.”
“No, this can’t happen. I just got home. What am I supposed to do? I can’t…” Mark suddenly stops midsentence.
“We can give you a ride wherever you want to go.”
“No thank you, I would like a rental please.” Mark replies quickly.
Before escorting Mark to the main entrance, they tested him for shock and a rundown of his mental state. While waiting at the front, an awkward silence is maintained until a blue Toyota Camry pulls up in front of them and Mark whispered softly “Thank you” as he got in the rental and drove away. Driving down the road Mark begins to weep when he sees the blood stains on the walls knowing that is his family’s blood.
“11-83 Accident, Exit 16 Morrison Highway, blue Toyota Camry” echoes over the police officers’ radios.
They knew immediately it was Mark. Rushing to the scene as fast as they could, clingy to a hope that they could save him. As the got closer they could see that Mark had driven into the traffic barrier and flipped the vehicle on its head. One officer ran over and pulled Mark from the car.
“You’re going to be ok, just stay awake. Stay with me Mark!” He said repeatedly.
As he stared into Marks eyes, he could he didn’t have much time left as he struggled for each breath. With marks last breath he whispers, “I can’t live without them.”
“Are y’all excited?” Heather asks her children as she gets in the car.
Both answer with a joyful “yes, momma!”
Even though the excitement was great and the date highly anticipated as soon as the car hit the pavement the children were already asleep without showing any signs of waking up for the rest of the drive. Listening to the radio while driving Heather’s mind began to wander, asking herself “What will I do when I see him? What will I say? How will the kids react, it has been so long.” Heather’s husband, Mark, was deployed to Afghanistan exactly 1 year and 6 months ago with little to no opportunity of communication other than an occasional skype call or distant letters. Heather began to think about how everything was while Mark was home last, and asked herself, “Will things be the same?”
In effort to put her thoughts to rest Heather turned up the music enough to sing along but made sure not to wake up Becca and Jackson. A couple hours would come to pass and as each minute passed the anticipation would grow because they were getting closer to the airport. Heather, knowing for that the airport was off the next exit, she looked at her watch and she could tell it would be almost perfect timing because Mark’s flight was scheduled to land in the next 15 or 20 minutes. With excitement she quickly turned around for a second to wake her kids.
Mark had finally landed and he could hardly wait to see his family. Rushing out into the terminal expecting to see his wife and kids waiting for him, but they were not there yet.
“I guess they are running a little behind.” Mark said to himself.
He found an empty seat and decided to wait there. Hours would pass, and Mark wandered around frantically looking for his family at all entrances and terminals. After about an hour of searching, Mark was caught off guard by the sound a man saying “Mr. Johnson?” Unexpectedly, there were two police officers.
Mark replied, “Yes, I am Mr. Johnson. What is this about?”
“Could you come with us please, sir?”
They turned a began to walk towards a security office just down the hall and Mark followed. Once in the room, “what is this about?” asked Mark. A long moment of silence would take place as the two officers looked at each other, then back at Mark, and back at each other. Beginning to get impatient, Mark raised his voice, “what is this about?!” One of the officers dropped his head, then look Mark in the eyes,
“Mr. Johnson, your wife and children were involved in a car accident. There was a truck who had gotten turned around by mistake and as your wife entered an exit lane heading here and was met head on. Your wife and kids were killed instantly. I am so sorry.”
“No, this can’t happen. I just got home. What am I supposed to do? I can’t…” Mark suddenly stops midsentence.
“We can give you a ride wherever you want to go.”
“No thank you, I would like a rental please.” Mark replies quickly.
Before escorting Mark to the main entrance, they tested him for shock and a rundown of his mental state. While waiting at the front, an awkward silence is maintained until a blue Toyota Camry pulls up in front of them and Mark whispered softly “Thank you” as he got in the rental and drove away. Driving down the road Mark begins to weep when he sees the blood stains on the walls knowing that is his family’s blood.
“11-83 Accident, Exit 16 Morrison Highway, blue Toyota Camry” echoes over the police officers’ radios.
They knew immediately it was Mark. Rushing to the scene as fast as they could, clingy to a hope that they could save him. As the got closer they could see that Mark had driven into the traffic barrier and flipped the vehicle on its head. One officer ran over and pulled Mark from the car.
“You’re going to be ok, just stay awake. Stay with me Mark!” He said repeatedly.
As he stared into Marks eyes, he could he didn’t have much time left as he struggled for each breath. With marks last breath he whispers, “I can’t live without them.”
My names is C.J. Livesay, I am from Tennessee and I enjoy hunting, fishing, and playing football.