~ Grease ~
Smoke filled the small kitchen once again as the popping sound of grease echoed on the stove. “Lunch will be ready in just a few!” Lucy shouted into the living room from the kitchen, smoke crawling out of the doorway.
Charlie and Jonney were siting in their living room, two large easy chairs set near each other, turned in towards the fire place and a small coffe table. Charlie could rember every Christmas sitting down at that table and opening presents, there whole life could be summed up in the pictures on the shelfs and walls, the whole house was a living testimate to their families whole life in North Carolina.
Taking a swig out of a bottle of Coca-Cola Charlie looked over to his father and asked. “Hey pops, how come you never talked about The War of Succession? I mean, people look up to you, I look up to you, you’re a hero in my, and my generations eyes…how come you never talk about it?” he asked, curious to why he didn’t talk about it like the old timers in town who spoke of glorious charges and honor.
*
Jonney was a bit caught off guard by the question, he was never one to brag or talk about his past experiences, not that he wasn’t a patriot, but he had seen a lot, and there was a lot he didn’t want to rember. “I never talked about it because it was none of anyone else’s damn buisness.” He said, a bit irritated, but seeing how Charlie really wanted to know he swallowed his pride and decided he would learn from someone else later on.
“Ive had some bad experiences during the war son. I lost a lot during the war, my best friend died during the attack on Washington…right beside me.” He said, Charlie could tell from the pain in his voice that this was hard for him.
“Most of the veterines you see bragining about the war didn’t fight, a real veterine would tell you it was tramatic and hard. The battles, were a bloodbath, you couldn’t do anything but hope and pray you that the next volly of bullets, or shells, didn’t hit you.”
Jonney continued to paint out the picture for his son. He told him how every battle was a gamble, if you were in the front ranks you didn’t usualy live long enough to see another.
“There was nothing glorious about the battles, not for a soldier at least, sometimes it was better to be shot and killed rather than being wounded…if you were wounded they would just cut off whatever was shot.” He said, using his right hand to simulate a saw like he was cutting off an arm. “Then infection would set in, and you would die.”
The room got quiet, Charlie looked down and scratched his head. He had asked, and he received. “Lunch is ready.” Lucy said, emerging from the kitchin smiling, oblivious to the conversation that had just went on.
“Wonderful, I’m staving.” Jonney said, returning the smile before getting up and entering the kitchen.
D?
