Several months later Doc’s world was rattled by an unfamiliar voice calling after him as he unlocked his SUV to drive home after an evening guard detail.
“Hey, little brother.”
Doc checked the nametag of the thirty-something soldier with a crew cut and a smile. It read ‘Harrison’.
“It’s been a long time. You don’t recognize me, do you?”
“Can’t say that I do after fifteen years, Steve. I was only five when you enlisted and you never came back.”
“Sorry about that, Doc. I really meant to come home a million times, but it never seemed to be the right time.”
Steve slapped the side of the bed of his pickup, “I got a couple six packs of cold ones in the cooler and couple poles if you want to do a little fishing at the dock in the rec area.” Doc was intrigued by the perception that Steve might be about to open up the vault of family secrets that had been sealed since he was a child.
He remembered his older brothers, Jack and Steve, as tall young teenagers who joined the military abruptly after high school. Jack and Steve never aged in Doc’s mind. The thirty-something man claiming to be his older brother bore little resemblance to the memory. Perhaps it was time to start renovating his family tree starting with Steve.
They drove down to the dock and lugged the cooler to the water, but left the poles behind. Doc mimicked Steve as they removed their boots and socks, rolled up their cuffs and swished their feet in the cool, still water.
“How’s Mom doing these days?”
“She and John have a good life. Nice house in a nice part of town. Rose and Patty and the grandkids come around once in while, but they talk on the phone all the time. Neither of them can keep a husband for any length of time. You ought to call Mom once in a while.”
“Yeah, Doc, I think I might start doing that. I just don’t know what to say.”
“Like Rose and Patty call to discuss world events?” Doc laughed. “Just call and it will come to you. She doesn’t expect high drama. She would just like to hear your voice.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said with a long sigh and looked intently into the distant darkness hovering above the water. Doc felt the hairs on the back of his neck warning him not to open the door to Steve’s silence.
“What is it I don’t know, Steve?”
Steve popped open his third beer for courage. “How much do you know about when Jack died?”
“I was just a kid. Everybody leaves kids in the dark. All I could ever get out of Mom and John was that Jack was killed on a training mission when his Jeep rolled.”
“Maybe we should leave it at that,” Steve said aloud to himself. Doc was afraid to hear more, but a gaping tear already exposed the existence of the family lie. Doc was proud of Jack as a hero who died in the service of his country, but John and Anna had never celebrated his heroism. He remembered the gray metal military casket at visitation in Spokane, and a small group of friends and relatives giving embarrassed condolences to Anna. He always assumed that Jack’s heroic memorial was at his home base with his Dad and Steve, followed by the simple service and graveside gathering back home in Spokane. The subject of Jack’s death was closed in advance of the moist, brown earth tapping on the thin metal casing. It would be hard for Steve to tarnish the memory of Jack, but Doc had to know the truth.