US soil. Did I walk away from a world on pause, or did three years of my life slip by without me knowing?
During my flights back to the states, I had more time on my hands than I would have liked, and in the quiet moments when people were napping, I lied awake, pondering how I managed to walk through flying bullets without one taking me down. I don’t understand why, even though I may be a little ragged around the edges, I’m in perfect physical condition while other lives are being mourned. Why is one life chosen over another? It’s a question I don’t think I will ever have an answer to.
I wonder if I will face a punishment for my actions that some are calling heroic. I shot a man—killed him, but I saved thousands. Will my conduct shift the balance of Everett’s future? It’s a foolish way to look at life, but when I think back to every stop along the way over the last three years, I question if it was a lesson in the form of a nightmare. It seems unthinkable as I look back on it—something a mind could never conjure, yet it’s branded into the faint lines on my forehead and in the corners of my weak smile while I try to comprehend that I’m going home.
I don’t know who is aware of my homecoming because there wasn’t enough time between finding out I was heading back to the states and sending a letter to let Dad know I’m on my way. I haven’t hugged him in three years. I haven’t seen James, and Lewis—I don’t know where he is, or if he is still okay. Our last hug was when he told me Everett was still alive. I fear going home to a barren world resembling the crumbling ash-covered existence I left behind.
Still, I straighten my cap and collar and walk eloquently out of the airport terminal. As if someone silenced the sound of revolving life during the time I was gone, it restarts with a scratch on a record, growing in volume—in the form of conversation, laughter, and reminiscing cheers. I search through the crowd for a familiar face without knowing what to expect.
My steps feel long and drawn out as I part my way through groups of people and a world I’m about to rejoin, but when I see his face, a sense of warmth and comfort fills every fiber in my body.
This moment reminds me of the time I had the stomach bug in grade school, and the teacher sent me to the nurse’s office to wait for someone to come pick me up. I had never felt so sick, and I was scared, counting down the minutes until someone would come tell me I would be okay. I wasn’t expecting to see Dad walk into the school that day. Mom was usually the one who would have to come to my rescue if I needed to go home early. But there he was, sharp as ever in his uniform, bearing a smile that made me forget about the discomfort traveling through my body. I cried at the sight of him for reasons I still don’t understand. I just needed him, as a little girl—I needed my dad to make me all better. The moment his arms were around me and he placed a kiss on the top of my head, I knew I was okay.
My chin quivers as I see the man walking toward his little girl with a smile full of pride and his arms open just for me. Neither of us can speak. Again, words aren’t necessary because his embrace is everything the little girl in me needs right now. For the first time in years, I know I’m going to be okay. His love says it all.
It’s minutes before each of us can compose ourselves enough to speak. “I went to bed so many nights wondering if I had taught you well enough to survive in a war that I never expected you to be a part of. It was my job to keep you safe, and I didn’t know if I failed you and your mother, but when news broke from other commanding officers of your bravery and accomplishments, I realized you didn’t need me to guide you anymore because you have an inner strength beyond anything your mother or I ever had. Your determination, courage, and commitment has outshone us all, Elizabeth. The word pride does not begin to explain what I feel for you, my daughter.”
I nod because I am at a loss for words. I don’t know where to start, I suppose. Dad takes my duffle bag in one arm and takes my hand with the other. “I missed you so much, Dad,” I mutter.
“Oh, sweetheart, a girl will always love her father, but she will never know how much more he loves her. Each day you weren’t here, felt like a decade.”
“Lewis and James?” I ask.
“They are home and well, eagerly waiting for me to bring you home. They wanted to come with me, but I asked them for this time alone with you. I hope that’s okay.”
I press my cheek against his arm and take in a sigh of relief. “Of course, it is.” I take a minute to find the courage to ask a question haunting every part of me. “Dad—”
It seems that’s all I can manage to say when he interrupts whatever he thinks I was going to ask. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard anything. I know they sent Everett home so his father could care for him, but I haven’t heard an update as of late. However, I called his father’s house to let him know you were on your way home, but there was no answer. I also had a telegram delivered to his house, but honestly, I’m not sure of his current condition. I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I wish I had something better to tell you.”
The hollowness in my chest reminds me of my missing heart, the one I left with him when we separated in Belgium. It’s been months and if his condition worsened after our last goodbye, he may not know who I am at all now. It’s a thought I’ve dreaded, but one I accept as a possible reality.
“Audrey is impatiently waiting at our house for you, as well. She has someone she’d like you to meet, but if she knows I told you this, I might be in a lot of trouble, so you have to act surprised, okay?”
Audrey and I wrote to each other several times while we were away, but we weren’t able to stay in contact as much as I hoped. She also enlisted in the Army Nurse Corps, and her deployment and unit remained on ship from what I understand. I believe she returned home only recently.
“I guess I’m the last one home, huh?”
“We were hoping you’d be back a few months ago, but your unit was needed for good reason.” All along, I thought we were losing more and more every day we spent over there.
“Is there anything else I should know about before I step back into this life I left behind?”
“Yes,” Dad says. “There is something you need to know.”
“Okay, I’m ready.”
I watch the surrounding civilians, moving about the airport seeking their next destination. Street clothes are more common than my uniform, and so many people have flowered leis dangling from their necks. Children are laughing and chasing each other in circles around their parents, and the fresh scent of fruit fills the air. I forgot what it felt like to be here.
“When you return home from battle, no matter what your position, or your responsibilities were, or what it forced you to do, think, and see—it changes you—inside. Some people think you’ve become hardened, and others pity what you experienced. And then there’s the part that you feel. When you peer into a mirror, you may not recognize yourself as the same person you used to be. You may see a look of pain riddled throughout your eyes, or the face of a fading soul reaching out for help. The moments in combat are the memories that scar you deeply. They change who you are, who you were, and who you will be, but if there is anything I have learned over the years, it’s this: for every anguished thought that enters your mind, replace it with the memory of something good you did. You saved so many people, Elizabeth, and that’s what you should focus on.”
“I’m fine, Dad, really.”
“You’re going to say that. You’re going to convince yourself you’re okay, but there are going to be moments when you aren’t, and I need you to know that I am here to listen, and I will always be that person in your life no matter what. I understand you, what you’ve been through, and what you will continue to go through. You never have to feel like you’re alone.”
I want to respond with a quick thank you and move on, but I allow the words to penetrate, knowing he’s right. Over the last day, I lost track of how many spiraling thoughts spun through my head like a tornado, distracting me, exhausting me, and adding confusion to my overwhelmed mind.
“You know, now that I’ve seen the other side, you should know you can always talk to me too,” I tell Dad.
“That’s what best friends do for each other, kiddo. You will always be my little girl, but we share something unique now too.”
“James and Lewis, as well,” I add.
We step out of the airport into the most exquisite Hawaiian glow and I lift my face to the sky to inhale all the sweet aromas I have missed. “It’s good to be home.”
“Elizabeth,” Dad says, tugging my hand so I stop walking. “I know how you feel about feeling equal to your brothers. You have always made it a point to prove your sense of worth to me and them, but there is a difference between you three, and I think it’s important you understand.”
“What’s the difference?” I shrug with a small laugh.
“They trained for combat, Elizabeth. You trained to heal and save the lives of our own. Maybe you don’t think I’m aware of what you accomplished a couple months back, but the news did not come quietly here at home. You stood up to a fear greater than any one of us could comprehend, and without hesitation, saved over twelve dying prisoners from what is being called ‘a death march.’ Your bravery was unfathomable, and while I know you are humble and will probably never mention the subject, what you did will forever make me proud of the woman I raised.”
Am I receiving praise for the death I caused, or the lives I saved? It’s a question I continue to ask myself. That day in the woods will always haunt me because I had to take a life to save one. The world shouldn’t be so ugly that one life has to be chosen over another.
I try to press my lips into a smile, but it hurts too much. Thankfully, Dad understands the look on my face. Rather than focus on what I’m being recognized for, I find our shadows along the curb, recalling a time when mine was so small compared to his. But now, they are nearly identical; I might be shorter and more slender, but our posture, stature, and form of stride are the same.
We are equal.
Dad allows me what I need; quiet moments during the car ride home, with the windows open. I take in the view of the passing seascape, the sun, and clouds in all their glorious buoyancy within the Hawaiian sky. I watch a plane skim the top of a cloud and feel the need to wave, but instead, I smile, wondering if it’s just another plane, or possibly a sign I need to see.
As we turn the corner onto our street, I hold my breath, wondering if Everett’s car will be along the curb. Dad isn’t the type to cause me pain just for the sake of a surprise. I should have assumed he wasn’t making up a story when he said he hasn’t heard from him.
“Whose car is that?” I ask, hoping beyond hope.
“I’ll let your brother tell you,” Dad says.
“What is it?”
“I’ve already said too much, telling you that Audrey has news. Just go on in and find out for yourself. I’ll get your bags.”
The house smells just how I left it. Everything is clean, not a crooked picture frame in sight. I can’t say I imagined the house would look so neat but it’s comforting to come home to.
I appreciate that no one lunges at me as I walk in the door. Instead, warm hugs, kisses on the head, and the feeling of so much love welcomes me home. James and Lewis each want to show their affection more than the other, and I feel them elbowing each other behind my back.
“You already got to see her once. It’s my turn,” James says, squeezing me within his arms as he lifts me up and spins me in a circle before placing me down in front of a familiar face.
“Lokelani,” I greet her. “You’re still here—with James?” I take a moment to comprehend the meaning, and the fact that she’s here in my house almost four years after I saw her that one time.
She’s also pregnant and there’s a ring on her finger. I spin around, looking for James’s expression, and I find one more perfect than I could ever wish for him. He’s beaming.
“I wanted to wait for you, kiddo.”
“Well, to be fair, I was gone a long time,” I offer as a good reason not to wait for me.
“We eloped when I returned home six months ago. It was small and just the two of us. You know I don’t like to make a big deal out of anything.”
“Of course,” I tell him. Though it pains me to think I missed out on something big in James’s life, I can’t blame him for taking the first opportunity he had to make his life feel normal and happy after this war.
“I’m the same way,” Lokelani says. “Also, I hope you don’t mind that I helped around here a bit while you were overseas. Your father and brothers were helpless it seemed. Then, with their staggering deployments, I couldn’t help myself. I knew you would want your family cared for. I remember you told me it was your biggest concern before leaving.”
My gaze falls to my fidgeting fingers as I silently thank mom for sending all of us who we needed when we needed them. Although Lewis is alone, he isn’t the type to need another person to make him happy. He is content with being around happiness, just like Mom was.
I offer Lokelani a gentle hug, careful not to squish her growing belly. “How far along are you?” I ask.
“Twenty-two weeks,” she says, beaming with a smile from ear to ear.
“I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew. What a wonderful surprise to come home to.” I turn in the last direction I haven’t paid attention to yet. “And you, Miss, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Audrey all but nearly pummels me to the ground as she slams into me with a force full of a thousand hugs saved up over the few years. “I’m so thankful we’re both alive and here. I’m so thankful, Lizzie. These have been the longest years of my life, and I can’t believe we’re together in the same room, finally.”
“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too, but um, who’s the charming fella standing behind you?”
Audrey’s cheeks burn red as she dances around in a little circle to grab the gentleman by the arm. “Lizzie, this is Pierre Lucas. We met when my unit docked off the coast of Monaco. He was delivering goods to our crew, and well—”
“Ooh-la-la,” I gush with the worst French accent I can muster. “Well, what is it?” Excitement fills my chest for the first time in a very long while.
“I guess love at first sight is a real thing,” she says, shrugging her shoulders against her shy smile.
Pierre reaches out for my hand. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Is a pleasure to ah—make your acquaintance.”
“Excuse me,” I say, pulling my hand from Pierre’s. “What is that gorgeous, sparkling rock on your hand?”
“Lizzie, Pierre asked me to marry him.” I wring my arms around Audrey’s neck squeezing her with all my might, feeling an abundance of happiness for my closest friend.
Then, a brick falls into the pit of my stomach as I witness the warm affectionate smile grow along Pierre’s cheeks as he watches our shared excitement.
“Gosh, I am blown away by all of this,” I tell them. “This is—well this is so swell. I can’t believe all that I have been missing out on. Will you excuse me for a moment? I just need to use the restroom to powder my nose.”
I try to take slow breaths, in and out, telling myself everything is okay, and sometimes life works out in funny ways, but it isn’t always full of big band swing music and long days by the shore. Sometimes we must put ourselves aside and just show happiness for others, which I am. I am so glad for all of them and their joy.
The moment I close the bathroom door, I slide down against the wood molding until I reach the glossy tiles. Tears flow freely like a burst pipe that had been holding in way too much for far too long. I cry until my lungs burn, my head aches, and my chest sinks in toward my back. I don’t know if this is the way I will always be, a cheery face with a fake smile to hide the truth inside, or if I’m going to adjust and find my place here again. I suppose it’s something I won’t know until life unfolds one day at a time.
My family allowed me to sit on the bathroom floor for three straight hours until there was a knock. We only have one bathroom, and I should have picked a better place to fall apart. I open the door, finding the house empty except for Dad and Lewis.
“Let’s listen to some music and take it easy,” Lewis says as Dad pulls me out of the bathroom to switch places with me.