Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Father and Son (standard:drama, 1825 words)
Author: CalisAdded: Sep 13 2000Views/Reads: 4775/2791Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A boy reads the letters that his dead father sent to his mother during the war.
 



Father and Son 

On a warm summer's day on June 21st 1955 on a small street in the town
of Fordyce, Arkansas, a small boy stood near the front of a massive 
brick house. Dwarfed by the size of the massive brick fortress, the boy 
stared up in awe at the large clear bay windows. They were twice as 
tall as he was and yet they were still as clear as a midnight sky over 
the cornfields of Iowa. The boy stared, trying to see what was just 
beyond his view. The intensity of his glare might have frightened some, 
for it looked like his eyes might spontaneously combust with the 
ferocity of his stare, but to those who knew him, he was just the boy 
from the small town in the heart of Arkansas. 

The boy continued to sit on that placid street, the black asphalt baking
in the sun, oblivious to the world that surrounded him on all sides. He 
had not even noticed the man who had been sitting next to him for some 
time. The small boy raised his head up as if to look at the face of 
God, and looked into the man's eyes. "What are you doing here?" the boy 
asked. 

The man replied with words so soft and in such a whispered rasp that the
small stream, which encompasses Fordyce, could have drowned out his 
words. "Why are you sitting here beside me here on the sidewalk?" the 
small boy asked. 

The man responded, but again it was impossible to hear. The boy gazed
into the old man's wrinkled face and began to decide who this old man 
really was. The boy's eyes seemed to pierce into the man's soul. What 
he saw somewhat surprised him. 

The boy stirred, and then he looked again at the window he had been
intensely staring at just moments before. The boy's body started to 
tremble, like he was on the verge of some medical emergency, and yet as 
soon as the tremors came, they were gone. The boy collected himself, 
and again began to contemplate what he had just seen. The old man 
seemed to be getting older by the very second. The lines under his eyes 
became more defined, the bags became larger, the eyes more sunken, and 
even the hair on his head seemed to recede just a little bit. Each 
moment on the sidewalk with the small boy made years of impressions on 
his body. The man decided to speak. In a soft, and tender tone the man 
began. "Who are you child, and why are you here?" 

"I am here because this is where I am needed to be," replied the boy. 

The boy did not know why he had said this; it just came to him as if it
had been carried by the winds rushing up from Gulf of Texas. This time 
it was the man's turn to look at the boy. The man's face first showing 
a questioning glance, then it broadened into a smile. The smile seemed 
to crack the skin on the old man's withered face. Dust and age were 
discarded as the man smiled. The man had smiled, and it was obvious to 
the boy that the old man had not done this in too long a time. The 
smile was quickly wiped off the face of the old man. The man was 
completely within himself, remembering a time long ago. Feeling, and 
remembering. He now knew he had found who he was looking for, exactly 
as he had been told. He didn't know how he got here, twenty years 
before he was born, or how he would get back, but he had found his 
father, just as the voice had told him. 

The man motioned for the boy to follow him, and the boy promptly did so.
Soon, they came to a park. Here, the green grass flowed like water, 
placid and calm, just waiting for someone to disturb it. It was here 
that they sat; the boy and the old man each in a world unto themselves. 
Suddenly, the boy moved his hand into his pocket. 

"Here," the boy said as he handed the old man a few sun-dried paper.
"Take these and read them well, for they are what you have come for. 
They will provide you with the answers that you seek." The old man 
carefully took the five pieces of paper, and read. 

February 21, 1969 

Dear Elizabeth: 

Today started off like any other day. Up at 0530, chow at 0600, and
first formation at 0630 just as it has been for the last four months in 


Click here to read the rest of this story (126 more lines)



Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Calis has 2 active stories on this site.
Profile for Calis, incl. all stories

stories in "drama"   |   all stories by "Calis"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy