63

I slept in fits and starts, finally giving up on trying somewhere around four in the morning. Sitting up in bed, I turned on my lamp and grabbed my glasses. My closet door was open from the morning before when I’d dressed for work.

Looking down, I realized I still had on my work clothes. At least I’d had enough sense to take off my apron.

I walked to my closet and took a fresh blouse off one of the hangers, feeling of its starched collar and deciding that it was the last thing I wanted to feel on my skin. Not even bothering to hang it back up, I tossed it on top of my dresser and opened the drawer that housed all of my T-shirts.

Bending down, I pulled open my pants drawer, picking up my pair of bell-bottoms. A whisper of paper against paper caught my attention and I squatted down. There, at the bottom of my drawer, were the letters Mike had sent, “Just in case.”

Dropping the jeans and shirt to the floor, I picked up the stack of envelopes and sat at my desk, pushing aside my journal and a few books to make room. I set them out, making rows of envelopes, seeing all of our names in Mike’s handwriting.

Annie Banannie.

I brushed my fingertips across the letter, feeling the lines and curves of the name Mike had called me when we were little. Picking it up, I turned it over.

Don’t duck and cover, pal, he’d written on the back. Keep your eyes open.

I broke out in a smile at the memory before my eyes filled.

Using a nail file, I cut open the top of the envelope, careful not to mar the slightest bit of handwriting. I hadn’t held many treasures in my life, but I knew one when I did.

My hands shook and I worried that I’d tear the letter before I even got it out of the envelope. After setting it down, I rubbed my palms together, blowing warm air on them from my mouth.

Don’t duck and cover. Keep your eyes open.

The papers slid out of the envelope, and I unfolded them, smoothing them against the top of the desk, my hands still trembling.

Dear Annie.

To read more was to admit that it was true. To believe that Mike’s body didn’t move anymore, his heart no longer kept the rhythm of pumping blood, and his lungs had no more need to take in air. Letting my eyes move beyond my name was to know that Mike was dead.

Hands in my lap, gripped together so hard it hurt my knuckles, I resisted folding the letter and slipping it back into its envelope. I fought the urge to stack them all and hide them in my bottom drawer.

Don’t duck and cover.

I read until my vision was blurred with tears. Then I wiped my eyes and kept reading.

And in that reading, I knew that it was true.

Mike was gone.

He wasn’t coming home.

Dear Annie,

Good for you! I’m proud of you for being brave enough to read this far. I can’t imagine what this day has been like for you. Or, if you’ve delayed reading this, I can’t imagine how this time has been like for you.

If you need to take a breather, I understand. But, listen, chum. Don’t quit reading it altogether. Remember, I spent time writing this and thinking about what exactly I wanted you to know. It would be a shame if you didn’t finish.

You asked me a while ago if I’m scared. If I remember correctly, I answered that I was all right. I spent a lot of time trying so hard to not be afraid. There’s certainly a lot of macho posturing around here sometimes.

I don’t know if you’ve realized it yet, but I stole a book from you, bringing it in my pack all the way to the other side of the world. Forgive me, sis, will ya? Gosh, it sure takes a long time to read a whole book around here with all the business we get into. But I remembered that you’d told me to read it, so I thought I’d give it a whirl.

Guess what it was.

A Wrinkle in Time.

Surprised?

It was a little hard for me to get into with Mrs. Whatsit and such. But I kept going. Then this certain line stuck out at me.

“Only a fool is not afraid. Now go.”

Every morning, I get up and before I even put my soles on the dirt floor of my hooch, I feel that stab of fear. But then I remember what Mrs. Somebodyinthatbook said and I get up anyway. And all day long, I ask God to keep me going.

So far, he’s pulled through for me.

Well, until now, when you’re reading this.

I’m sorry, Annie. I tried to make it. I swear I did.

But, you know what? Neither of us has to be scared anymore. Not really. If you’re reading this, then the very worst has happened. It can’t get harder than this. Right?

Don’t duck and cover, sis. Keep your eyes open because even though this is really hard right now, there’s still so much good going on around you. See it, will you? Notice it in that special way you have of observing the world.

And on the days when it just seems too hard, do it for me, will you? Remember it all. Because when you get to heaven, I’m going to want you to tell me all about it.

Keep your eyes open, Annie.

And know that you were the best of the world to me.

Love,
Mike