9

The living room had been quiet for more than an hour. A couple of times, Mama walked to the doorway to see if she could hear

anything, but she always came back saying she didn’t hear a peep. We both wondered if Marcus was talking to Seth at all. We

could barely get a coherent sentence out of him, so it wouldn’t be surprising to us if Marcus clammed up. If Seth was able

to coax my brother into talking, it would be a miracle.

Rather than sit and wring our hands, Mama and I got busy in the kitchen. I had started working on the sweet potato pies and

Mama had turned her attention to making the dressing when we heard Marcus wailing. We immediately stopped what we were doing

and ran to the living room. Mercifully, the boys were still outside playing. I didn’t want them to witness this. They’d had

enough trauma in their lives. Witnessing my brother’s meltdown wasn’t what I wanted them to experience during this time away

from the group home. Once again I questioned if I’d made the right decision to bring them home with me.

When we entered the living room, both Marcus and Seth were sitting in their same seats. Seth wasn’t speaking. He was just watching as Marcus rocked and cried, loud sobs filling the space.

“What happened?” I demanded, rushing over to Marcus, who was inconsolable. I tried to embrace him, but he fought me. Mama

tried to do the same, but Marcus wasn’t having any of it. It was as if the grief was so great, he couldn’t bear to be held.

“Baby, do you want to go to your room? Or maybe a walk? You and I could take a walk if you like.” Mama looked at Seth angrily

as Marcus continued to rock and say no, over and over again. “What did you do to him? You promised you wouldn’t cause him

any pain.”

“No, ma’am, Mrs. Daniels.” Seth moved forward in his seat, his eyes trained on Marcus. “I did not promise that. But as it

stands, it’s not me causing Marcus pain. It’s Marcus’s memories. Tell them, Marcus. Tell them what you told me.”

Marcus shook his head, still sobbing loudly. Seth stood up and faced my brother with a stern look on his face.

“Marine, stand at attention,” Seth barked.

Before Mama or I could protest, Marcus stood. It was like he was in a trance. Once again his body was stiff and rigid, yet

other than a few sniffles, he’d stopped crying. In this moment, years of training overshadowed his grief.

Marcus saluted. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell your mother and sister what you told me.” Seth folded his arms across his chest. With that move alone, he reminded me of the military men at Fort Lejeune, where the twins had completed basic training. Mama and I had visited them there before they’d shipped off to Vietnam. Those soldiers had seemed like they were devoid of emotions—their backs never bent and their faces steely. Just like Seth right now.

“He doesn’t have to tell us anything he doesn’t want to,” Mama insisted. Her Christian upbringing was the only thing preventing

her from throwing Seth out of the house. I could see it all over her face.

“Let Marcus tell us what he needs to tell us, Mama,” I said. “It’s going to be okay.” And somehow I knew that to be true.

Mainly because this was often the case with the boys at the group home. So many of them would arrive burdened with untold

stories—stories that ate at them worse than any cancer could. I didn’t want my brother to carry this load alone anymore, no

matter how upsetting it might be to me or Mama to hear his truth.

“It’s okay if he isn’t ready to talk,” Mama said, resting her hand on Marcus’s shoulder. He continued to stand stiff and unmoving.

I think his Marine training was holding him together. As difficult as it was to witness, I understood what Seth was trying

to do. I prayed Mama would go along with it.

“Let him talk, Mrs. Daniels,” Seth said. “He needs to tell his story to you and his sister. That is how we heal. Silence is

what kills us slowly. Trust me. I know firsthand.” Seth walked over to Marcus, too, but he stood behind him and leaned in,

close to Marcus’s ear. “We’re waiting, Marine.”

“We’re the shadow warriors. Death in the dark,” Marcus muttered as a tear rolled down his left cheek. I wanted to wipe it

away. I wanted to wipe away all of his tears, but this was one thing I couldn’t fix.

“Speak in civilian language, Marine. They don’t understand that kind of talk. Speak plain.” Seth didn’t raise his voice, but his tone was ominous. I knew Seth had been an officer in the Marines. Up until now, I couldn’t imagine him as anyone but the soft-spoken man I’d just recently been reunited with, but this man... this man was all military—fire and steel. “Tell your mother and sister what happened, Marine,” Seth pushed, his voice deep and cold.

Marcus wiped the tear from his eye and stood even straighter. “We were responsible for clearing the Ho Bo Woods. Viet Cong

were everywhere, or at least that’s what they told us. No matter where I was, I could hear them Viet Cong breathing down my

neck. Still see them now in my dreams—hear them, smell them. We got there in the middle of the night. Ain’t never seen dark

like that before. Air so thick it was hard to breathe. So hot I couldn’t imagine hell being any hotter.”

Marcus’s face was devoid of emotion. I almost held my breath as he continued to talk. I didn’t want to break the spell he

seemed to be under.

“Two artillery battalions got stuck in the mud. It took two days to get them unstuck. In the meantime, we built a log road

for them to cross over on. Aaron got antsy. He wandered off. I should have been watching. I should have been paying closer

attention.” Marcus began to shake, and his eyes started to blink erratically. I feared we were losing him again.

“Marine. Focus,” Seth warned. The tone of Seth’s voice brought Marcus back. He started talking, still in a monotone, but at

last, he was telling his story.

“I was busy putting down them logs. When I noticed he was gone, I looked everywhere. I asked around, and somebody said he saw Aaron walk toward the woods. I took off in the woods after him. I couldn’t find him nowhere. Everywhere I looked, he wasn’t there. I didn’t even see no Viet Cong to see if they had stole my brother. Mama, I looked. I didn’t stop looking till they come and drug me outta them woods. ’Fore we left for ’Nam, you said, ‘Look after your brother, Marcus. He ain’t strong as you, Marcus. You the oldest, Marcus.’ I failed. I failed, Mama.”

Then he dissolved into tears. I sensed a release—or at least I prayed that he was experiencing one. Mama gathered him into

her arms. She pulled him in so tight, it was a wonder he could breathe.

“You didn’t do nothing wrong, son. I’m so proud of you for looking for your brother. You did more than most would do in that

scary, awful place y’all was in. I ain’t angry. I’m grateful that you are here. Do you hear me?”

Marcus continued to cry, but the sounds he was making were different than before. This one moment of breakthrough wasn’t a

sign that he was healed, but Lord, I hoped it meant he was heading in that direction. I whispered thanks to God. At church,

the preacher always said a testimony will free you. I prayed this experience freed Marcus from some of the guilt he was carrying.

I motioned for Seth to follow me. From what I could tell, Marcus had said everything he needed to say for now. I wanted to

give him and Mama some privacy. Seth followed me into the kitchen, and before I could speak my own tears began to fall.

“Thank you so much, Seth.” I dabbed at my eyes. These last couple of weeks had turned me into a crier. Since Daddy died, I’d held my emotions inside. I didn’t have time to release them. I had too many people who were leaning on me. But now I couldn’t help myself. I was exhausted and all I could do was weep. “I don’t know what you said or did, but it helped. I can already tell.”

Seth reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me, Kat. Marcus has a long way to go, but he can

heal. I’ve seen soldiers worse off than him make it back from the brink of destruction. I don’t know if you’ll ever get your

other brother back, but if Marcus is willing to do the work, I’m happy to continue talking with him. If he wants to come to

the group meetings, we get together every Friday night. I warn you: the things we talk about and the way we talk about them

isn’t fit for a civilian’s ears. You can drop him off, but you can’t be part of our meetings.”

“I understand,” I said, nodding as more tears fell. “If Marcus wants to attend the meetings, I’ll make sure he gets to them.”

“Excellent. I should go. I have a crew working on a house. I want to check it out before we get into the holiday weekend.

I hope I’m still invited for tomorrow.” He glanced at me sideways with a smile that told me he absolutely knew he was still

invited but wanted to tease me.

“Of course you’re still invited. And, Seth—thank you again.”

He smiled. “Anytime. See you tomorrow, Kat.”

I walked him to the door and watched as he made his way to his truck.

“Get your head out of the clouds, Katia Daniels,” I muttered. I went back to the living room and peeked in on Mama and Marcus. They were sitting together on the couch, talking softly to each other. I backed away and went outside, where the boys were still playing football. I sat down on the porch and listened to them banter back and forth with each other. If there were any two boys closer than Pee Wee and Chad, I had not met them. Their brotherhood was so strong, and I worried about how they would take it when someday they would be forced to be separated from each other.

“I’m number nineteen, Johnny Unitas, quarterback for the Baltimore Colts!” Chad yelled, spinning around, posing with the football

in the throwing position. “I’m the best quarterback in the U.S. of A. Can’t nobody tackle me, boy!”

“I’m D-D-Deacon Jones,” Pee Wee declared, jumping up and down with excitement. “I pl-pl-play for th-th-the... Who d-d-do

I pl-pl-play for again?”

“The Los Angeles Rams. You’re part of the Fearsome Foursome. You, Merlin Olsen, Lamar Lundy, and Rosey Grier are the best

defensive linemen in the entire NFL,” Chad declared as he ran toward Pee Wee, sidestepping him with an overexaggerated move.

“But you ain’t better than me.”

I laughed as he raced across the yard, Pee Wee at his heels. Football was another television treat we granted the boys, mainly

because the houseparents enjoyed watching it too. By default, the boys knew everything about the sport, from the top players

to their stats.

“Hey, boys,” I called out to them. “Are y’all ready to come inside and eat? We still have some leftovers we need to use up

before we jump into all of that good Thanksgiving food tomorrow.”

Upon seeing me, they both ran over to where I sat.

“Miss Katia, I know you don’t like us watching a lot of television, but could we watch Lost in Space tonight?” Chad looked at me with a hopeful expression. “Please. We was good helpers today, and we ain’t fussed at each other

once. Have we, Pee Wee?”

“No, ma’am. W-w-we been g-g-good. Please.” Pee Wee leaned against my knee and gazed up at me with those big green eyes of

his. I knew he couldn’t care less about Lost in Space , but if Chad was for it, he’d never be against it.

I sighed. How could I resist them both? On Wednesday nights, we usually took the boys to Bible study at my church, but since

we had so much cooking to do and what with Seth coming over, I told the boys we’d stay at home.

“How do you even know about Lost in Space ?” I asked, but I knew. Chad had asthma, and on a few occasions he’d stayed behind with one of the houseparents while the

rest of us went to church. I was sure that he had sneaked and watched the show. If space travel was involved, Chad was all

for watching it. He just grinned at me.

“This one time,” I said. “And afterward, I expect you both to head to bed. Don’t go talking to me about no Beverly Hillbillies or Green Acres , because the answer to that will be a resounding no. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said.

I could already hear Mama begging on behalf of the boys to let them stay up and watch Beverly Hillbillies and Green Acres with her. Mama didn’t enjoy TV watching until she had a TV buddy or two to watch her shows with her. I was never interested, so having the boys around would definitely cause her to lobby on their behalf.

“Y’all go get washed up and I’ll start heating up the leftovers,” I said. Mama had taken a lot of the leftovers over to Great-Aunt

Hess’s house, but there was still some fried chicken and potato salad in the refrigerator.

I got up from the steps and went to the kitchen. The boys raced by me to go wash up in the bathroom. Mama was already heating

up the chicken, and I could smell the sweet potato pies for tomorrow baking in the oven.

“Where’s Marcus?” I asked as I kissed her cheek.

“He wanted to rest before we ate supper.”

“How’s he doing?” I went to the refrigerator and took out the potato salad. I noticed there were also enough baked yams for

each of us to have one, so I pulled them out and placed them in the oven next to the pies.

“Better,” she said, turning around to face me. “He ain’t never gone get over this, but I pray God protects his mind, ’specially

if we get the news that... specially...”

“I know, Mama.” I didn’t want her to get upset. I was praying we could get through the holidays with some semblance of peace.

Aaron would be sorely missed tomorrow, and tears would be shed, but I hoped we’d find ways to honor him as we prayed for his

safe return.

The phone rang and Mama answered it. After a moment, she held the receiver out toward me. “It’s that young man from your work,

Jason.”

I hurried over and took the receiver from Mama. “Hello.”

“Hello, Miss Katia. I’m sorry to bother you at home,” Jason said, then paused. That pause had me nervous. Jason was never

at a loss for words, so his seeming need to gather his thoughts had me extra concerned.

Sometimes a boy would go home and things wouldn’t work out. Each family was given my number, as well as Jason’s and the houseparents’

numbers, in case something went wrong. I wanted to prompt Jason to tell me what was the matter, but I waited, trying to exercise

the patience I expected from my employees and the boys. Finally, he continued.

“I left one of my schoolbooks at the office, so I went back over and there was a letter in the mail from family court.”

“Did you open it?” Of course he had. I’d given Jason permission to open mail related to the boys. I trusted him more than

any assistant I’d ever had.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s about Chad. They’ve set a date for the hearing. December eleventh.”

“Oh no. So soon?” I said. I didn’t think it would happen this quickly. I figured that we’d have until after the holidays,

and at that point we’d reassess where Chad’s mother was in relation to her ability to parent Chad. I didn’t wish evil on her,

but I needed enough time to pass for her to either stay on the straight and narrow or fall off the wagon like she normally

did. Judging from that phone conversation I’d had with her, she wasn’t far from falling.

I looked around to make sure the boys weren’t within earshot. “He’s going to be heartbroken. I know the courts want to clear their books so they can enjoy the holidays with their families and perhaps reunite some other families, but this is too fast. However, there’s nothing we can do until after Thanksgiving. Thanks for calling, Jason.”

“I’m so sorry about this, Miss Katia. I almost didn’t call, but I figured you would want to know,” he said.

“You did the right thing, Jason. It’s just... Well, you know. We’ll figure it out. We always do. You have a good Thanksgiving

tomorrow. Give my best to your family.” After I hung up the phone, I stood staring into space. What was I supposed to say

to Chad? How was I supposed to make this sit well with him? I knew this would set him back when he’d been making so many great

strides forward. For a time, I forgot where I was, until I heard Mama calling out to me.

“Katia. Katia baby, what’s wrong?”

As I turned to tell her what Jason had told me, the boys bounded into the room.

“Hello, fellas,” I said. “Go and set the table for dinner. Chad, the plates are in the cabinet. Pee Wee, the silverware is

in the drawer to the left of the cabinet.”

I went over to Mama and whispered in her ear, “I’ll fill you in later.”

She nodded.

“Hi, Mr. Marcus,” Chad said, causing me and Mama to look up. Marcus entered the kitchen and much to my surprise—and from the

look on Mama’s face, to her surprise too—he had showered, changed clothes, and shaved.

“Hi, Chad. Hi, Pee Wee,” he said. I was amazed that he remembered their names. He’d been so out of it these last few days. I hadn’t been sure what computed and what didn’t. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but I couldn’t help but rush over and hug him.

“It’s good to see you, little brother,” I said down low. I hoped he knew what I meant by my words.

“Good to be seen,” he said, using the words Daddy used to say. I wasn’t sure if he knew he was repeating what our daddy had

spoken or if it was just a phrase he’d picked up, but either way, it took me over the moon to hear the words come out of his

mouth. He still looked and sounded exhausted. We had a long road ahead of us, but I prayed that today’s breakthrough meant

we’d turned a corner, even slightly. As upset as I was about the Chad situation, I had to celebrate this win, no matter how

small.

“Okay, y’all. Everything is heated up and ready,” Mama said, her hands on her hips as she smiled broadly at me and Marcus.

She was as thankful as I was for this moment.

I linked my arm with Marcus’s and we walked together to the dining room.

I wasn’t sure what the next several weeks would bring, but I was grateful that tonight my little brother was here—with us.

And for now, that was enough.