"My dearest brothers and sisters," Father Jameson began his sermons. "We are gathered here today to mourn for our hero, Joseph Tan, who died bravely in the battlefields. And so as we bury Joseph today, it is true to say we bury one of us, no matter how big or small the funeral is. We bury him in a cemetery which contains people of different faiths, a further reminder to us that it is we who create differences, not the Lord because there is only one heaven. I have never heard anybody say there is a different heaven for each faith. The fact that we all die is yet another reminder to us that we are all the same before the Lord. No matter how much we owned or possessed, when it comes to the end we are all the same. I have heard from a missionary that in a part of Africa the dead are buried naked. That is to symbolize the fact that we are really all the same before Him and as we say, we take nothing with us when we die, we leave it all behind. Here in Blanca, we have a very beautiful way of saying that. We say we are only passing through. So as we bury Joseph, we bury one of ourselves."
"Amen," he concluded. I stared at my father's body lying inside the wooden coffin, wrapped in white muslin cloth. Too bad I couldn't see his face for one last time. I was told by the soldiers that his face was covered with a horrendous scar, something that they don't want to show me. I remember our last goodbye before he left for war.
'Twas a rainy day. My Dad and I walked to the train station with his suitcase and a red umbrella on a muddy road, soiling our shoes and socks. We sat together on the bench, waiting for the train to arrive. Despite the cold air around us, sweat began to pour on my forehead as my heart beats faster than usual as I glanced at my dad, wondering when he would return. "Hey Dad," I tugged the sleeves of his shirt. "When are you coming home?"
Dad chuckled as he squeezed my hand. "I'll come back when the war's over, sweetie," he smiled. "I'll be away for a few months, that's all."
"Are you sure?" my lips curved into a frown. "What if you didn't make it?"
"Don't say that, Bugsy," he scolded. "Of course I'll be fine. You sound a lot like mom."
I let out a small laugh, before looking away from him. "Hey Bugsy," he tapped his fingers on my shoulder. "I spy with my little eyes for something green."
"Is it the leaves on the trees?" I guessed. He shook his head. "Nope, guess again."
I looked around the train station for some answers when I noticed a woman in a green dress, smoking a stick of cigarette. "I saw a green dress," I pointed with my thumbs. Dad slapped his hands on his knees and burst out in laughter. "Yes, it was a green dress, Bugsy," he bobbed his head. "Okay, your turn."
Before I could open my mouth, the train arrived at the station. My Dad grabbed his suitcase and climbed into the train, before looking at me over his shoulder. With my watery eyes, I hugged him tightly, never wanting to let go of him. "Please don't go, daddy," I begged. "Please stay with me and Aunt Inara and-"
"I'll be alright, Bugsy," he kissed my forehead. "I'll write to you every month."
He walked inside the train and stick his head out of the window, waving at me. "Be good to Aunt Inara and Chaeyeong and Grandma while I'm gone, okay?"
I nodded as I showed my pinky finger to him. "I promise, Dad."
"And watch your little brother and sisters, okay?"
"I will, Dad," I waved, as I watched the train slowly depart from the station, with all the other families in Slaborough saying goodbyes to their relatives as they headed for the battlefield.
Snapping back to reality, Aunt Inara gestured me to get up like the lid of my father's coffin was shut tightly. Four men hefted his coffin over their shoulders as they headed out of the town hall, with my family following them from behind.
We made our journey to the cemetery across the icy field, braving the heavy snowfall on that day. I wrapped my arms around myself as the cold wind blew in my face, making my hair fly in the air. The graveyards were dark and dreary, with trees used to bury the dead instead of tombstones. Small stones were laid in front of the tree with the name of the deceased carved on its surface. With a shovel, a few men dug a vertical hole and opened the lid of Dad's coffin, laying his body inside the hole.
As they buried him underneath the earth, I heard a faint whisper from a distance, making my ears rang. Hissing in pain, I rushed out of the forest graveyard and walked on an empty field, rubbing both my gloved hands together. Reaching the playground, now empty, I sat down on a swing and rested my arms on my knees, glancing at the snowy ground.
Dad used to take me to the playground when I was little. We were indulging on our watermelon popsicles on a hot summer day when we stopped by here. "Daddy, daddy," I pointed at the swing. "Can I play the swing, please?"
He chuckled as he played with my hair. "Of course, Bugsy," he said, as he held my popsicle and watched me play on the swing. "Daddy, can you push me higher?" I giggled. My father gave me a salute and made me fly on the swing. With my hand, I reached out for the clouds on the sky and howled like a wolf.
"Daddy, daddy, I'm flying, I'm flying," I cheered, as my Dad pushed me harder. "Well of course you are, sweetie," he roared with happiness. "You're flying, like the birds in the sky."
My lips curved into a smile as I swing in the playground, laughing to myself before realizing I was back in a snowy playground. Dropping myself from the swing, I curled myself in a fetal position and bury my face between my knees as I burst into tears. First, Mom died, then Jessie, and now, Dad. They were innocent. They didn't deserve to die. Mom didn't deserve to die while giving birth to Carter. Jessie didn't deserve to fall into the river and drown. And Dad, oh Lord, he didn't deserve to be shot in the battlefield. Why is it always the good ones have to die first?
Why can't the Lord just take away the ones who started the war in the first place? Why is He so cruel? Isn't he supposed to be merciful to his Children? Doesn't He love us? Why can't He just spare them and let them be happy? I hate Him! I hate Him so much! He took everything away from me. He took Mom, Jessie and Dad away! He took away two of my toes! All the bad luck I've suffered over those years, He did that to me. The Lord hates me so much!
Clenching my fist, I punched the cold, hard ground numerous times until blood splattered on the snowy carpet. Looking at the bruises on my hands, I held them underneath my coat as I screamed in pain. "Fuck!" I cursed loudly. "Why does everything bad happened to me?"
Then, I heard footsteps approaching, making me lift my head. It was Aunt Inara. With a black veil covering her head, she kneels beside me and squeezed my wounded hand, giving it a kiss. "Goodness me, Bugsy," Aunt Inara exclaimed. "Your hand is bleeding."
I sniffled as I leaned on her chest, wrapping my arms around her. "Hey, it's alright," she whispered in my ears. "I'm here for you."
I let myself cry on her shoulder as she rubbed my back. "Why does Dad have to die?"
Aunt Inara sighed. "When I first heard that your father went missing in action, I was so worried about him that I couldn't stop praying to the Lord," she explained. "So imagine my devastation when I received the news about his death."
My eyes widened as I glanced at my aunt. "Wait, when did Dad when missing in action?"
"It was during your school picnic. The soldier showed up at our front door and broke the news to us."
"And you didn't tell me about this?" I snapped, as anger boiled inside my heart. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to protect you," she stuttered. "I didn't want you to worry too much about your father."
I stomped on my foot as I got up, my fist trembling. "I was already worried about Dad when he enlisted. Every day, I read the headlines, I watched the news coverage, I prayed that Dad isn't even one of those casualties. I wrote letters to him as a hope that he'll make it through, but he didn't. And that he's gone," I sobbed. "I'll never get to say goodbye to him. Now I'll never hear his voice again. Now I'll never give one last hug to him."
Aunt Inara placed her hand over her mouth. "Bugsy," her lips quivered. "I'm so sorry about this. I-"
Before she could finish her sentence, I stormed off from the playground, leaving her behind. I dashed into the forest and dropped on my knees, bawling my eyes out. Why didn't Aunt Inara tell me anything about this? Why did she have to hide everything from me? Does she still think I'm a fucking child? I'm sixteen, not six! I hate her! I hate her so much! She always thinks to hide the truth from me will make me feel better but it doesn't! It only makes things worse!
I sat down in the middle of the woods, with only the sound of snowfalls heard in the background, along with the crickets humming. With snowflakes stuck on my hair, I felt the breeze blowing in my face, making me wrapped myself with both hands. Dear Lord, it's much colder in the woods than in the fields. My ears were ringing again and my head started pounding, making me hiss in pain. Good God, why is this happening all of a sudden?
From a distance, the sound of the air raid siren was blaring, making me jump on my feet. Shit! They're here. The Bowan soldiers are here to bomb us! Oh God, this is not happening! Is this really happening? Did the war finally come to Slaborough? As the aircraft flew above us, shells of bombs began to rain from the sky, making the ground explode around me.
Flames spread across the forest rapidly as I ran into the deeper parts of the forest to take cover from the bombs. As I headed into the bushes, a bomb exploded right in my face, pushing me against the surface of the rock. Blood flowed from both my ears as I wrapped my scarf around my face and continued to run for my dear life as the fire slowly caught up to me. Where do I hide? Where do I hide? Everything's burning around me.
I huffed and puffed and huffed and puffed, searching frantically for a safer place to hide. Think, Bugsy, think. Where is the best place to take cover during the bombing? If only I brought my notebook with me. Then, images of a cave popped up in my mind, making me gasp in realization. That's it. The cave is the best place for a bomb shelter.
As quick as lightning, I raced to the rocky hills and hid in a cave. I covered my ears as I closed my eyes as the bombing continued. Why are the Bowans bombing us? What did we do to them that they wanted to set our town on fire? My whole body trembled as the explosions were getting louder, and louder, and even louder. When will this ever end?
In a moment, the bombing stopped. I got up from my hiding spot and walked out of the cave, only to find the whole forest burning, with thick, black smoke in the air. The trees, the grass, everything is gone. I climbed up even further to get a view of the town from here, and it was horrifying to watch. The blue skies were now covered in blood red and the whole field had perished, exposing its nakedness.
Pulling my hair with both hands, I screamed as I picked up some stones and hurled them down the field. This is the worst day of my life. First, my Dad died and now my home has been destroyed. I don't even know if my family and friends are alright. To Aunt Inara, Grandma, Chaeyeong, Em, Carter, Pearl and Kim, I wish I've told them how much I loved them as often as possible.
To Naomi, Lisa and Archie, I'm sorry for all the petty arguments and fights we have. And to Ferdinand, I love you. Not as a friend, but as a lover. I've wished I kissed you even longer than a few second.
With no other choice, I had to hide out in the middle of nowhere for a while. It's for the best. It's the only way I can stay safe from all the chaos that's happening right now.
Taking a deep breath, I headed back to the cave.
ns 18.68.41.147da2
