Sunday, 20 May 2012

Leaving never hurts as much as being left behind. (Nanci Griffith)

No one spoke as they drove back to the base. The only sound was Vincent's unnerving sobs. He was curled into the foetal position in the back. Tony and Tommy had just lost their brother before their eyes and all they could do was sit there in shock. Who would tell Senior? Or Rider? How could they fly across the world in the morning with Ricky’s body left behind? How could they abandon him? Where would he be buried? Why did he die? Why hadn’t they said goodbye to him or told him they loved him? They had never. They would never see him again. They would never be able to visit his grave or even know where his body rested. He would be kicked aside like garbage. How could a man who received so much respect during his life receive so little in death? Ricky was given a noble service at home in Philadelphia as any casualty of war would. He died fighting for this country’s supply of heroin. Nonetheless, heroin was derived from a German word meaning heroic and that was just what they said about him in the papers: “He was a heroic man who died so we could have life and have it more abundantly.” He was Jesus. This drug dealer whose body was desecrated and discarded was viewed as a selfless saint by the entire country. Somewhere in all that, Tommy believed there was some sort of poetic justice but there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could lessen the pain.

The boys received a hero’s welcome when they stepped off the plane. When Tommy spotted Penny in the crowd he almost smiled. She was still so sweet and innocent. All his suppressed malice and anger were released. He pushed past everyone and took her into his arms and cried. Tommy, who had never let a tear trickle down his check in his life, cried with his entire body as he suspended Penny in the air. He held onto her as if he was holding on for life itself.

A reporter snapped a shot that made the front page of the local paper and was later picked up by a national paper. The picture made women from sea to shining sea smile and sigh for the romance of war.   

 “Ricky died.”

“What? No, Tommy, no.” She held him tighter and she cried with him – not for Ricky, for Tommy.

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