Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Going In - 1. Chapter 1
“I’ve got something I need to tell you,” I said as I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs and nervously surveyed the table. My father was just finishing his lentil soup, my mother was looking at me patiently, my brother Mark was sending a text message, my brother Keith was picking at his salad, and my sister Doreen was looking at me curiously.
“What is it, dear?” my mother inquired.
“I’ve...I uhh...Well I’m,” I muttered unable to get the words out.
“You’re what?” Keith asked impatiently.
“I’m going to...join the army,” I finished in a whisper.
“We couldn’t hear you. You’re going to what?” my father asked.
“I’m going to join the army,” I repeated with as much confidence as I could muster under the circumstances.
My father’s spoon clanged against the almost empty soup bowl as he dropped the utensil in shock.
”NO,” he said simply, as if that settled the matter.
“Oh honey, are you sure?” my mother asked stricken.
“I knew it!” Doreen exclaimed with a satisfied grin. “I saw you talking to that guy at that mall Saturday.”
“What guy?” My mother asked.
“No one,” I insisted.
“It was one of those recruitment guys. John took pamphlets,” Doreen said ratting me out.
I glared at my little sister and continued. “This has nothing to do the recruitment guy. I made this decision completely on my own. Besides, you can’t be recruited unless you want to.”
“I said you’re not doing it. The subject is closed,” my father said folding his arms and giving me a stern look.
“Dad, I don’t need your approval for this. I’m going in and that’s all there is to it,” I insisted surprising myself.
“Ohhh Harold! What will the neighbors think?” my mother exclaimed as she started to cry.
“There, are you happy? You’ve made your mother cry,” my father said as he put an arm around her.
“Dude, don’t do this,” Mark pleaded putting down his cell phone. “You can change.”
“Yeah bro, maybe you just haven’t heard the right anti-war song yet,” Keith suggested.
“Oh this is all my fault!” my mother wailed. “I should have insisted that you become a vegan like the rest of us when you were a baby, but oh no, I thought it was okay if you ate eggs and cheese. I said, ‘Donna, don’t over-react, all little boys do things like this’, and now look what’s happened!” my mother ranted.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, honey. This isn’t your fault, I should never have let him play football,” my dad said.
“Dad!”
“Don’t you ‘dad’ me, young man. It’s that damn sport that’s done this to you. This would never have happened if you’d been into drama or music like your brothers,” my dad said.
“Dad, there’s nothing wrong with this!” I shouted.
“It’s completely against our morals and life philosophy! You’ve disgraced the family,” My father said as he got up from the table and went outside to the work in the organic garden.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Mark said sadly.
“Mark, it’s really not a big deal. Lot’s of guys do this,” I protested.
“Oh yeah, it’s no big deal. You’re just going to walk around shooting people,” Keith said sarcastically.
“What? Keith, no, that isn’t true. There’s a lot more to being in the army than shooting people,” I said.
“Oh come on! Don’t give me that; I’ve seen the movies. Your kind shoots everything that moves,” my brother said.
“My kind? I’m the same person I was before I told you!” I yelled.
“Everyone be quiet!” my mother shouted. “Listen John, we can deal with this, we can get you help. I know what to do, tomorrow afternoon I’m going to buy you some cds,” my mom said with desperation.
“Mom, what are you talking about?” I asked.
“The Dixie Chicks! The Indigo Girls! John Lennon! They’ll get you through this, baby,” she answered.
“Mom, I am NOT listening to the Dixie Chicks,” I protested. “Look, I’m getting out of here; call me when you’re ready to deal with this. I’m going to Mike’s.”
“Wait! Mike doesn’t know about this does he?” my mother asked.
“Of course he does, he’s my best friend,” I answered.
“Oh John no! You mustn’t tell anyone. Look, no one else needs to know. Promise me you won’t tell anyone,” my mother pleaded.
“Mom, I’m not ashamed!” I fired back.
“Well maybe you should be,” she answered as she started to cry again.
“That’s it, I’m out of here,” I said as I walked from the house.
“Where do you think you’re going?” My father asked me as I approached my car.
“I’m going to Mike’s for awhile. You and mom need to cool down,” I said simply as I opened the door.
“Oh no you’re not! You’re grounded,” my father said as he tried to pull me away from the car.
“Dad, let go! You can’t ground me for this. It won’t change anything!” I screamed. “Dad, I’ll still be…going into the army.”
“Son wait!” My father shouted as I slammed the door and started the car.
“John! You can’t go!” My father yelled as he pounded on the door with his fist. I ignored him and drove off.
Five hours later I quietly opened the front door, hoping to sneak in without anyone waking up. Instead the lights flashed on and I found my parents waiting for me in the living room.
“Hey,” I said quietly as I tried to walk past them to go to my room.
“John wait, your father and I had a long talk after you left,” my mother said.
“And?” I asked.
“John, we can’t support your decision…but you’re our son, and we’ll tolerate it. Just don’t bring any of those soldiers around here,” My father said as he folded his arms and walked from the room.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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