The Unforgettable and the Unexpected - 1. Chapter 1

The Unforgettable and the Unexpected

It was a busy Friday afternoon in the city. The entrance to the Metropolitan History Museum was bathed in the warm light of the autumn sun. Among the people walking up the wide stairs were three men. Two were about the same age and the third was noticeably older. They would have seemed entirely unremarkable if not for the small wooden box the man in the middle had in his arms. He held it close to his chest as if it had a great treasure inside.

He remembered finding the box as it were yesterday. His grandfather had recently died. The day after the funeral the family gathered around the table for dinner. They did their best to have a normal conversation and mostly succeeded. As they finished dessert, the father turned to his son and asked, "Mike, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, dad. What is it?"

"Could you go over to your Grandpa's house and clear out the fridge and take out the trash?"

"Yeah, no problem."

"Great. Thanks, son. By the way, if there's anything you want to keep go ahead and take it. The people from the thrift store are coming to go through the rest on Wednesday."

The next day Mike went to the house after school. He felt strange opening the door with his grandfather's key. He had been a guest at his grandfather's house many times. As a boy he loved coming over because his grandfather would always tell him stories about his adventures during World War Two. His grandfather had been part of a B17 bomber crew stationed in England. He would always tell Mike about the bombing raids and how his airplane was shot at by the Germans but survived almost until the end of the war.

Mike's grandfather had been discharged at the end of 1943because of an accident on the ground. He had slipped while climbing a wet outside staircase. The fall resulted in a broken bone which did not heal correctly and left him with a slight limp. It had taken so long to heal and was so painful that the doctors had him sent home. He always told that part of the story with a tone of regret.

Mike slowly walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. His grandfather had been a widower for the last five years and had adapted quickly and well. The refrigerator was well organized and the kitchen was neat. The death of his wife was not the first tragedy in his life. Not all the crew members had survived the war. Their plane The Ripper's Keepers had crash landed after one of its missions killing three crew members instantly and injuring five others.

The contents of the fridge were not as bad as Mike had expected. He threw away some leftovers and collected the still fresh eggs, frozen waffles, bacon, bread, and a few vegetables into a bag. Then he took out the full trash bag letting his mind drift again. He was thirteen when his grandfather told him the full story of how the Ripper's Keepers had gotten its name. Little John, one of the gunners, had wanted to call the plane The Reaper but the pilot had objected saying that it was too morbid and would bring down the morale of the whole base. The copilot Lenny had suggested painting a pinup girl on the nose and calling it The Flying Beauty John had responded with "Hell No!" followed by some unflattering remarks about the pinup girls Lenny obsessed over whenever he had a free minute. Eventually a compromise was reached. The plane would be called the Ripper's Keepers and the nose art consisted of a pretty but slightly menacing woman dressed in a hooded cloak, open in the front, of course. In her right hand was a reaper the blade of which arched over her head. The story had always made Mike laugh.

On the way back into the house his phone rang. He knew it was probably his boyfriend and he let it ring and then go to voicemail. He did not feel comfortable talking to Sam in his grandfather's house. Mike had always felt comfortable telling Grandpa Jacob anything until he started to have feelings for other boys. He was not sure a tough military man would understand. The thought of ruining his relationship with his grandfather had kept him from saying anything. Mike knew that eventually Grandpa would wonder why his grown grandson did not have a girlfriend. Mike was planning to tell him but then his grandfather had a stroke and Mike never got the chance.

Pushing the thought from his mind, Mike began walking from room to room checking for trashcans. As he walked he kept his eyes out for things he may want to take with him. There were a few picture albums which he found easily. He put those next to the salvaged groceries. When he had taken all the trash out he continued his search of the house. He wanted to find his grandfather's flight jacket.

He searched all the closets but did not find the jacket. He decided to check the attic. He climbed the ladder and turned on the hanging lamp. In its dim light he searched the space. There were a few pieces of furniture up there but not much else and there was no sign of the jacket. He was about to leave when he saw a small wooden box standing alone in a corner. It looked forgotten and lonely. He walked up to it and saw that it had a lock. He tried to open it and surprisingly, it was not locked. Inside was a stack of letters. They looked old. The one on top still had an envelope. After looking at it closely, Mike realized that it had been sent from England during the war.

He closed the box and took it with him. It was too hard to read a hand written letter in the dim light of the attic. He walked downstairs feeling disappointed about not being able to find the jacket. He returned to the kitchen to pick up the items he had collected previously. As he walked through the door his jaw dropped. The jacket he had been looking for was draped over the back of a kitchen chair. He had walked past the chair at least a dozen times and had not seen the jacket.

He picked it up and gathered the other items he was taking with him. He took everything to his parent's house where he still lived. He was hoping to get a part time job and get a place of his own, but this semester he was too busy with school work.

Later that evening he called Sam and talked for half an hour. Sam was one reason why he wanted to have his own apartment. They had been dating for two months. They were always having to be careful what they said and did in front of Mike's family and Sam's roommates. Even phone calls got awkward sometimes. Mike had recently gotten a cell phone partly to be able to move away from unwanted audiences.

After he got off the phone with Sam, Mike turned his attention to the letters in the box now standing on his desk. He picked up the first one in the stack and carefully opened the envelope and then unfolded the old yellow paper. It was a letter from Little John to Mike's grandfather. Little John was Grandpa Jacob's best friend during the war. John was the smallest man on the crew and consequently was assigned the role of turret gunner. The turret was a clear enclosure that stuck out from the bottom of the aircraft. Two guns were mounted inside and only a small person could fit inside. "You had to be a contortionist to fit in there," Grandpa Jacob would often say with a smile.

One of the other gunners had added "Little" to John's name and immediately received a bloody nose for it. Little John spent the next few weeks resenting the nickname but it stuck. John changed his mind about it when someone pointed out that Little John had been a character in the tales of Robin Hood.

Mike smiled at the memory and began reading the letter.

"Dear Jacob,

It's been a while since I had a chance to sit down and write. The last few weeks we've been spending more time in the air than on land. Everyone's tired. It's not all bad though. It was Sean's birthday this Saturday and the C. O. Let us celebrate. We had a cake made and some drinks.

Your replacement's turning out ok. Really, no one can replace you but he's a good fellow. He tries hard and shares almost everything he gets from home. The only thing I can't understand is how the devil they decided to put him in front of the radio. He can't say his own name without stuttering.

I'll tell you more when I get a chance. Good bye for now."

Little John"

Mike carefully folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. Then he picked up the next one. This one was a few weeks younger than the first.

"Dear Jacob,

Thank you for sending the picture. Looking at you and your family is a thousand times better than looking at Ugly Tom. That's our name for our new radio operator. No one dares say it to his face. At least not yet.

Some idiot sent Lenny some posters of women. He papered the walls with them and sits around sketching them whenever he can. He's good at drawing but it's always the same thing over and over again!

I got a package today. It was from Susie. Thank God for sisters! She sent me enough candy to last a month.

It's dinner time now. The food has been getting better lately. I better go claim my share.

Yours,

L. John"

Mike carefully folded the paper and looked at the next letter. The handwriting was John's. He flipped through a few more of them and realized that most, if not all, the letters in the box were from John. Mike was a little surprised but assumed that John was closer to his grandfather than anyone else on the crew.

It was a few weeks before Mike read another letter. He had been busy at school and trying to find time to spend with his family, friends, and Sam. Sam was in the same math class as Mike so they got to spend time together studying. Working through the difficult problems seemed to bring them closer. Their first real kiss was over a linear algebra book in a far corner of the school library.

Mike was doing well in most of his classes but one day he was feeling quite disappointed in himself. He had not prepared well enough for a history quiz and had gotten a low score on a homework assignment. History was not hard for him, but he found it boring and easy to ignore. He picked up the next letter from the pile and it put his problems in perspective.

"Dear Jacob,

I wasn't lying to you. I just didn't want to dwell on unhappy things. If you want to hear some complaining here it is. I'm tired. They have us flying almost nonstop. I'm tired of being shot at. There are days off in between but it's still exhausting.

The food really is getting better. I can't complain about that.

I'm sick of Lenny always showing me his "ladies". I play along and pretend to look at them but there are some parts that should stay covered up. The pinup girls aren't so bad. It's the nudes that I could do without.

Ugly Tom is being nice but I think I resent him for not being you. Everyone does a little and he knows.

There's not much else to say.

I miss you.

L.J."

As the semester went on, Mike periodically read letters. They were interesting and comforting. His grades improved in part due to Sam's help. They would occasionally get some time alone but usually not enough time to do much. Mike learned that Sam's family knew he was gay and did not mind. He got to meet them for dinner one evening. Sam had invited him over to the family home. They lived about a hundred miles from the college and Mike spent the whole ride avoiding talking about his family. His father was a military man and his mother was a nurse. Both were highly regarded within their profession and conscious of their images. Since he was young, it was assumed that he would join the military. When he decided to go to college instead it had come as a surprise, but no one disapproved.

Mike did not expect the same tolerance to extend to him dating Sam. While people were becoming more accepting of homosexuals, no one seemed to want a gay son. He knew that if his relationship with Sam became more serious, he would have to tell his parents but at the moment he could still put it off.

The visit with Sam's family was pleasant. After he came home, he found himself wishing that his family was more like Sam's. He greeted his parents and exchanged a few words and then went to his room. He turned to the box of letters to distract him from all his stressful thoughts. A massive international conflict can put the small problems of everyday life in perspective. He pulled out the next letter in the stack and unfolded it.

"Dear Jacob,

I'm learning to hate Fall. It rains endlessly and when it stops raining it drizzles. As you well know, it's cold in the skies and now it's wet too. If the weather keeps up like this I think it will wash all the color out of the leaves.

Since my last letter two things have changed. The weather has gotten worse and Squirrel has fallen in love."

Mike remembered his grandfather telling him about Squirrel. His real name was Andy but few people knew that. He had a squirrel's face. His cheeks were fat and his teeth were long. He was the crew's mechanic.

"He met this British girl and can't stop talking about her. It's Laura this and Laura that all day long. Luckily he can't talk about her when we're in the air.

To answer your question, we are flying more now. The newspapers are right about that but not to the degree that they say. Newspapers like to make things sound worse than they are. When I was ten, the newspaper printed an obituary for someone who had been in an accident. She walked out of the hospital a day later with her arm in a cast. Don't believe everything you read.

LJ"

A few weeks later Mike found himself reaching for the box of letters again. He and Sam had had a nasty argument in the college parking lot. Sam had told a few friends about his relationship with Mike. Mike had made a comment that it was probably safer if they kept their relationship to themselves. Sam had taken that to mean that Mike was embarrassed to be seen with him and an argument had ensued. Sam had stormed away. Mike looked around and was glad that the lot was almost empty and no one was watching them. He drove himself home. Unable to concentrate on his school work he began reading one of the letters.

"Dear Jacob,

Thanks for the package! I never thought I would be so happy to get warm underclothes but they do keep me warm. The candy and chewing gum are great too.

Congratulations on your new job. You have the brains for it. I don't know how you kept all that radio training in your head. I think my brain would have burst.

It's Saturday night. We've had the day off. I should be happy and mostly I am but sometimes I miss you. Naturally, I'm happy that you are home and safe but it's not the same here without you. I keep remembering that winter night. We left everyone to drink themselves to death. Do you remember the next morning? I thought we might all be sent home with no questions asked.

I can hear the boys coming now. I had better finish this letter before they spill something on it.

Good Night,

John"

Mike put the letter back in its place. He wondered what had happened that winter night decades ago. The crew of the Ripper's Keepers was known to play jokes on each other but this did not sound like a prank.

Mike was a little calmer now and he decided to try to finish his homework. An hour later he had finished the assignment. He should have gone to sleep but he now kept wondering about the winter night in 1943. He pulled out another letter knowing it probably would not shed any more light on the subject.

"Dear Jacob,

I don't think you understand how happy your letters make me. Everything at home interests me, even the weather and your new dog. Did you name him yet? How is your family? You haven't written much about them lately.

Life has been good here since my last letter. We celebrated Thanksgiving with a great dinner. They had real turkey and even cranberry sauce which was a little sour for my liking but still good. Dessert was a big affair. We had three different kinds of cake and good English tea and coffee.

The English don't really understand us but they were happy to join in the fun. We had music and even some dancing. It went on into the night like this until we were all tired. Then we sat down to remember what we are most grateful for. I am most grateful for my family and friends and especially for you. Happy Thanksgiving.

With love,

John"

Mike put down the letter. The ending had surprised him. Most people would not end a letter to a friend with "With love." He thought about it for a moment and then decided that social norms must have changed in the intervening years.

Over the next few days Sam and Mike resolved their argument and everything went back to normal. Mike's father had officially inherited his father's property and had finally found a family to rent the house to. Mike felt a little strange about that but he knew that the house could not stay empty indefinitely. Through all this Mike managed to keep his grades up but it was not easy even with Sam's help.

One evening after two tests and a big term paper had been due Mike continued his reading.

"Dear Jacob,

Christmas is just a few weeks away. Snow has been falling for a few days. It feels like Christmas in a way but then we have to fly again. The weather has made it impossible some days but not yesterday. Everything looked bright and clear when we left. We got hit many times. The old Reaper held up well but there was some damage to the plexiglass.

As if that weren't enough, we flew right into a storm on the way back. Half the crew was sure God would shoot us out of the sky with lightning. He had mercy on us. We landed ok.

Today snow is falling and we're not going anywhere. We are sitting around the base not doing much. Lenny got to picking on me about not dancing with the girls on Thanksgiving. I told him I can't dance worth a damn but he kept pressing me. Finally I told him I have someone special waiting for me at home. You know that's true of course.

There's not much more to tell you now. If I don't hear from you before then, Merry Christmas.

John"

Mike put down the letter. He remembered his grandfather telling him about how the Germans would shoot at them. Sometimes the gunfire would seem to come from all directions. The planes would fly in formation and there were times when he would see a plane go down in a trail of smoke.

Grandfather had always ended these storied by telling Mike how Little John would defend the plane with his machine guns. He was a fearless hero in these stories and the letters did not contradict that.

Mike wondered briefly why his grandfather had never mentioned John's fiancé. Then Mike went to bed. There would be more tests to take soon. The semester was almost half way over.

Over the following weeks Mike had invited Sam over a few times with the understanding that Mike's parents still believed that they were only friends. Sam was much more accepting of this arrangement than Mike had expected. He also realized that even if Sam would not mind keeping their relationship a secret it bothered Mike. The thought of telling his parents was less intimidating now that he had applied for a job at the school library. Even if his parents made him move out, he might be in a position to rent a room from someone. What bothered him the most was the idea of losing his family.

As he agonized over how to start the conversation, he thought of his grandfather. His grandfather always knew what to say. Mike decided to read more of the letters.

"Dear Jacob,

We had a good time at Christmas. They brought in trees and cooked the best food. We even tried what the British call Christmas pudding. All in all it was great but I still wish I were home with my parents and sister and of course you. You will have to come and visit next year. My mother makes the best cakes. You will love them.

It won't be long until I come home. I just finished my eighteenth flight before Christmas. It won't be long now. This letter won't reach you for a while but I will wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

With love,

LJ"

As he put the letter back in its box Mike saw that there were only a few of them left. It made him sad. He had gotten to hear some of Little John's stories in his own words and it made him more real than ever. Those words also made his death seem more tragic and the letters more valuable. Mike promised himself he would never let the stories that his grandfather had told him be forgotten.

A few days later Mike still had not found the nerve to talk to his parents. The fear of the unknown was crippling. That evening he paced the length of his bedroom trying to find the right words to deliver his message. Finally, he gave up and decided to read another letter hoping that their fearless writer would somehow inspire him.

"Dear Jacob,

It has been a long day. As I'm sure you guessed, we spent it in the Reaper. The air is cold even on the ground. It snows often but every now and then conditions are right to fly. This was one of those days.

We landed safely but the radio kept Ugly Tom busy. There were all sorts of pops and squeaks coming through. We are all convinced it is the weather except for Dan who is sure we were hearing ghosts. I told him he was losing his mind. He naturally disagreed.

I wish I could have been with you on New Year's Day. You must have had a great time. I will be with you next year.

Love

John"

Mike folded the letter and as he put it away the phone rang. It was Sam. Sam's roommates had gone out for the evening and he had the place to himself. Mike smiled when Sam invited him to come over for dinner. He loved being alone with Sam. It was great to be able to show affection without worrying about who would see them.

When Mike returned home late that night his parents were getting ready for bed. He wished them a good night. He loved them and he also loved Sam. His smile faded a little when he thought about the prospect of having to choose between the two. This was one of many times that he wished he could talk to his grandfather.

A few days later he sat down by his desk to read another letter,

"Dear Jacob,

The snow is staring to melt. The sun shows every now and then. It looks like spring in about to start. Lenny calls it the season of love. Unfortunately for him the local girls don't seem to think so. Really it's more like the season of mud. Puddles of it stand everywhere. Sometimes you can't walk around them. You just dive in and hope you won't sink to your knees.

Some days are still rainy and dreary but I keep smiling. It won't be long until I go home. When I get home I will sleep in my own bed for a month or two without getting up except to eat. Then I will take a trip to see you. I miss you. I think about you all the time."

Mike stopped and read the last line again. It was not a strange statement but it stood out to him because he had just said the same thing to Sam a few days prior. Sam had gone on a short trip to see family members and Mike had missed him. Saying something like that to Sam was normal and natural but it was not something he would say to a friend. Then he remembered his grandfather telling him that crew members become like a second family. That made more sense. Mike looked back at the page and continued reading.

"Friends like us should never be apart. Just a few more long days in the sky and I will be packing my things.

Love John"

This was John's last letter. John's plane was badly damaged by enemy gunfire a few days later. It was able to return to England but it crash landed killing John and two other crew members. Mike sighed. Until this point the letters had been a comfort to him but now he felt the weight of the tragedy. He folded the letter and was about to put it back in the box when he saw another envelope at the bottom of the box.

The paper looked newer and there was no address on the envelope. Mike wondered if there was an old letter inside the new envelope. He opened it and found that the paper inside looked new. Unfolding the letter he saw a different hand writing. The letter was dated November 20th 1995. He slowly read it.

"Dear John,

It has taken me a long time to write back. I'm sorry for that. It's hard writing a letter when you have no address to send it to. Over the years I've missed you more than you can imagine.

Everything has changed. We won the war and the young people have mostly forgotten about it. There have been a few conflicts since but nothing like what we went through.

I got married and we have a great son. I felt guilty about that at first but I want you to understand that Margret is no more a replacement for you than Ugly Tom was for me. No, she is not ugly. She was a great friend when I needed one and continued to be through the years. She died yesterday. Maybe the two of you will meet. I think you would like each other.

I am an old man now. When my time comes I hope I can hold you in my arms again. I love you and always will.

You were never forgotten. It just took me a while to find the right words.

Jacob"

Mike stared at the letter. He could feel the sadness it contained but more than anything he felt surprised. For a moment he felt irritated that his grandfather had not told him about the true nature of his "friendship" with Little John. Then he reminded himself that he had not told his grandfather anything about his love life either.

A few days went by. Mike took the time to copy all the old letters with his father's scanner. They were all on Mike's computer now. It was Saturday afternoon when he finished transferring all the files. He shut down the computer and was going to look for his father. He turned to leave his room and heard his father walking down the hall.

"Dad?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for letting me use the scanner."

"Your welcome. Were you scanning your notes?"

"No. Some old letters I found in grandpa's house."

"Oh, I see. I guess we both miss him," said Mike's father looking off into the hallway.

"Dad, there's something I have to tell you."

His father sighed. "Son, if this is about that business between your grandfather and John, I know all about that. It wasn't much of a secret, just not something you talked about back then. Your grandmother knew," he turned to look at Mike.

"Your grandfather was a hero. He defended this country so that we could live in freedom and peace and he deserves our respect. So if you were going to tell me about Grandpa and John, you don't have to."

Mike stared in shock for a moment then he regained his ability to speak. "Actually, Dad, there's something else."

In that moment Mike felt like his life was hanging in the balance.

“Dad you know Sam,” Mike paused.

His father nodded as a look of mild concern spread over his face.

“Sam and I are dating each other,” Mike finished.

His eyes were fixed on the floor as his mind tried not to imagine the expression on his father’s face. He jumped when he felt his father’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s ok Michael. You’re more like your grandfather, that’s all. It must have skipped a generation with me,” Mike’s father paused not exactly sure what to say, “You know, I have a lot of great advice about women for you. I guess that’s going to be pretty useless, unless there’s something your sister hasn’t told me.”

They both laughed at that. Mike’s sister was in high school and undeniably straight. Mike’s father spent a few more minutes reassuring him that his relationship with Mike was not going to impact his life at home. Then they told him mother. She was not upset by the news. She had been starting to wonder why Mike had never talked about who he was dating.

As the years went by Mike and Sam settled into a happy life together. When the state finally allowed same sex marriage they had a big wedding which Mike’s entire family attended. As soon as they could afford it Mike and Sam bought a house near Mike's parents' home and often visited. One weekend Mike and Sam arrived at Mike's parent's house to watch a football game. They got some food and drinks from the kitchen and joined Mike's parents in front of the TV. There was a newscast ending and a pregame show about to start. No one was paying much attention to the news until something caught Mike's eye. He turned up the volume. The reporter was standing in front of the History Museum describing a new exhibit about World War Two. They showed some photos of newly acquired artifacts. Mike gasped when he saw one of the images. It was a bent piece of metal with a painting of a beautiful woman dressed as the Grim Reaper on it. It was a part of his grandfather's plane that had somehow survived the scrapyard and it was going to be on display later that year.

A few weeks later Mike's father suggested that they donate the letters from John to the museum. At first Mike found it hard to let go of them but his father convinced him that they had a piece of history that should not be hidden or forgotten.

"I know," said Mike "I just feel like I'm giving away something special."

Sam who was never far from Mike's side finally said, "You're not giving your grandfather away. You're just sharing him with everyone."

Mike's father added, "Michael, you're not the only grandkid anymore."

This made him laugh. They called the museum shortly after.

Two weeks later the three men went to the museum together. They were met by the excited curator who looked at the letters with amazement. She thanked them and took down their names and addresses. They would be getting an invitation to the opening of the exhibit and a complimentary one year membership to the museum's VIP club.

After the short meeting the three men slowly walked towards the door. "Your mother is expecting us for dinner at seven," said Mike's father, "That's three hours from now."

They all stopped. "Do you want to look around?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, why not," said Mike, "You never know what surprises we'll find."