Overseas

Sean always thought that he hated his family. Rosalie was annoying and stupid, and his mother seemed to be in a constant bad mood, bothering him about everything. He never thought he’d be so afraid of losing them. He’d already lost his father, and now he couldn’t lose the only family he had left. Rosalie wore a short-sleeved blouse, red skirt, and high heels. She was only fourteen, yet she was growing up very fast, so far removed from the girl she’d been when father died. He could see it in her eyes. His mother looked like she’d slept little. He knew what she was thinking; that she was afraid she’d lose her son, too.
He could feel the summer sun pounding against his back. It was only eight o’clock in the morning, but already the temperature was already creeping in the high seventies. Earlier, the weatherman on the radio said that the high would reach eighty-seven degrees. It was only the beginning of June and looking to be a hot summer for downtown Chicago.
The scene was relatively still. It was Saturday; children were off school, adults off work, and no one had to go to church. It was the one day people had to sleep in. For the first time Sean was afraid that he would die over in Korea. He wanted to live a long life, children of his own maybe. Besides, he didn’t know what his family would do if he died.
Sean’s mother kissed him on the forehead. “You don’t have to do this.”
He gazed at the simple shirt and pants he wore. Once he walked to the bus station, he would ride to the United States Army compound. There his plain clothes would be replaced with a soldier’s uniform. He’d wanted to be a soldier for five years, when he was fourteen years old and his father had fought and died fighting the Nazis. He hadn’t hesitated in enlisting when the conflict had arisen. He didn’t think about the fact that he might die. He just wanted to serve his country bravely. Like his father. But he was scared now. He hadn’t realized it when he was just a boy, but he was sure his father was before he was deported overseas too. Yet he needed to put that aside, do what was best for America. “Mom, I need to. For dad.”
“Your father was drafted. You have a choice.”
“I want to be like he was,” Sean said.
He had been thirteen when he died, young, but still old enough to remember him vividly. He thought about all the times they’d spent together, about the last time he had seen him. It was Christmas Day, 1944. He’d woken up to the scent of his mother’s homemade cinnamon rolls and had been surprised to see his father standing in the kitchen. He’d had to leave the next day, but it had been a good day, a perfect day.
Beside his mother, Rosalie stood uncomfortably. He could tell she was thinking of that Christmas day, too. She was going to start high school in the fall; that was a whole adventure he wouldn’t be able to see her go through.
He reached forward at hugged his sister. “Do good in school, okay?”
“Bye, Sean,” Rosalie said weakly.
He turned to his mother, was starting to cry. He put his arms around her. “It’s okay, mom. I’ll be fine.”
“Your father would be so proud of you.”
Sean said one last goodbye to his family and starting to walk toward the bus station, through the quiet Chicago streets. He looked back and waved; his mother had his arm around Rosalie, together they waved back.
He didn’t know what kinds of things he would face in Korea; he only hoped that he would he see them again soon.