by Pilot
"Rainy, wake up sweetheart."
He opened his eyes to find Christine looking down at him, concern etched across her beautiful face. It took him a few seconds to orient himself. It had been a dream...a nightmare. One of many that had plagued him since coming home from the war. He managed a weak smile for his wife. He hated it when she was forced to endure the after-effects of his involvement in the war. He had vowed to leave it all behind when they had left England for the final time. But by the time he had been returned for the final six months of his sentence, the nightmares had already begun. Even now, six years later, they made it nearly impossible for him to fall asleep willingly.
"Rainy?" He realized that she was becoming concerned at his silence.
"I'm okay Chris," he managed to answer.
"Another dream?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.
He only nodded. She curled up against his chest and he gently stroked her dark hair. He wished for a moment that he could stop time right then, that they could stay like this forever. But then a soft knock on the door made him remember why he looked forward to the beginning of another day.
"Who's that bangin' on my door?" he tried to make his voice as gruff as possible, but Christine's soft giggle made it nearly impossible. In way of answer, the door opened slowly, and he heard the sound of two tiny pairs of feet scurrying across the floor and stopping at the side of the bed. Not turning, he said, "Sounds like we got mice, Mama."
Two little voices howled in response, "Papa! It's us!"
"Us? Who's us?" He continued the game.
"Me!" The voices answered in unison.
Finally turning, he beheld a sight that still took his breath away. His children. The magic of his life. The face nearest his was barely visible above the mattress. Deep blue eyes, the echo of her mother's, peered at him from the face of his three-year-old daughter Katherine Rose. Named for her grandmothers, Katie Rose was the perfect mixture of both her parents with her Father's coloring and her Mother's beauty. Just behind her, stood the mirror image of his youth. Five-year-old Joseph Aaron, named for his grandfather and Chris's father, stood quietly with a broad smile on his face. While he had his father's looks, he had his mother's sweet disposition.
Reaching over the side of the bed, he scooped up his daughter. She giggled as he deposited her between her parents. Christine, having moved over, kissed her daughter good morning. Joseph, long ago protesting being picked up at his age, had dashed to the foot of the bed. Now he leaped onto the mattress, quickly crawling to the other end. After a quick tug-of-war with his sister, they sorted themselves out. As usual, Joseph crawled under the covers next to his mother, while Katie Rose curled up in the crook of her father's arm.
'Now', he thought, 'now time can stop.'
~*~
They watched the sun appear in the bedroom window, shining its warmth onto the big bed. They talked, making plans for the day. They were going on a family outing to the beach, the first outing of the summer. Joseph rambled on and on as he designed in his mind the sand castle he would build. Katie Rose asked questions over and over. She had few recollections of their last day at the beach, and needed her fears addressed. Finally he and Chris managed to assure her enough times that she would not float away if she stood at the edge of the water; that they would not run out of food; that her parents would not forget her when they returned home.
But, finally they had to come to terms with the fact that the day had begun and their outing at the beach could not start until they left the comfort of the big bed. Christine was the first to break the spell. With a sigh, she untangled herself from her son and looked across at her husband. "I'll go start breakfast. Can you get these little mice dressed and ready to go?"
"Mmmm," he stretched and tried to look dismayed. "As long as I don't have to do anything with this," he gently tugged his daughter's thick black hair.
With a giggle, Katie Rose turned to her mother. "Mama, you braid it?"
"Okay," Christine said with a smile. Trying to look sternly at her family, she warned "you've got half an hour to be at the table, or I give your breakfast to the dogs."
Watching his wife as she left the bedroom, he picked up his daughter and tugged at his son. "Alright little mice...you heard your mama. Let's go."
~*~
The smell of bacon, coffee and a variety of good things wafted through the house as he brought his freshly scrubbed and dressed off-spring into the kitchen. Chris had not only prepared a feast for their morning meal, but she was just finishing filling the picnic basket with fried chicken, potato salad and fruit and was already dressed for their trip. He could only shake his head in amazement at his wife. Dropping Katie Rose into her chair, he put his arms around his wife and simply stood looking at her.
"Rainy..." she said with a smile. He kissed her, not wanting words to break the spell.
Breakfast was a raucous occasion, as everyone seemed to talk at once. The radio played softly in the background, and from beyond their screen door came the sounds of morning. Finishing the meal, they quickly cleaned up and secured the house for their departure. Packing the basket and other beach paraphernalia, they started the drive toward the beach.
In the back seat of the big car, Joseph tried in vain to teach his little sister to sing the songs he had learned a few weeks earlier at camp. Giggling at his dismay, Katie Rose began to make up her own songs. Behind the steering wheel, he couldn't help but smile. Never would he have thought that his life could be so perfect. He felt Christine's eyes on him and turned toward her. Taking her hand in his, he kissed it gently.
"You're in a good mood this morning," she said.
"Can't help it," he said wistfully. "How can a man have so much happiness in his life without bein' in a good mood?"
She moved across the big front seat to sit next to him. Wrapping his arm around her, he held her close.
~*~
Arriving at the beach two hours later, they found it nearly deserted. Even this was more than he would have imagined possible. Unloading the car quickly, he carried their things to the beach while Christine brought the children. Depositing everything on the warm sand, he made a cozy little camp while Christine took the children to change. By the time they returned in their bathing suits, he was stretched out on the blanket, watching the waves crashing on the shore. Smiling as she passed, his wife walked with the little ones to the edge of the water. He could hear Katie Rose squeal with nervous delight at the waves washed across her feet. Joseph was scouting out the best location for his sand castle. Finally settling on a spot just beyond the high tide marks, he began carrying plastic buckets full of water to the dry sand.
Once his daughter had gotten her fill of the waves and escaped from the water's edge to watch her brother's construction, Christine came back to sit with him on the blanket. He nestled his head in her lap while they lazily enjoyed the sounds of the ocean that mixed with the laughter of their children. Christine's fingers idly stoking his hair lulled him even farther into a comfortable stupor. Dozing in the sun, he forgot for a time what horrors usually came with sleep. For once they did not come, kept at bay by the sounds of joy that reached him even in slumber.
~*~
Sometime later he reluctantly left the dark void of sleep to return to the beach. Christine was shaking him gently. "Wake up, sleepy-head. Your children are famished. We need to feed them before they faint from hunger."
With a groan he sat up and together they lay out the feast of cold fried chicken and other delectables. Gathering around the blanket, the little family devoured the food; parents and children conversing in a happy sing-song of voices. Once lunch was finished, he went to inspect his son's masterpiece. Praising its artistry, he was awed at his son's creativity. Joseph would never know the hopelessness that his own childhood had been darkened by. His children had entered a world that included love, and he would do everything in his power to make certain that neither of them ever lost that. Taking up a small hand in each of his, he took the children off to explore the beach, leaving Christine to enjoy a few minutes to herself.
They collected shells and tossed stones into the wake. Lifting his daughter to his shoulders, they climbed onto the rocks that stood guard over the beach. With Joseph behind him, they found a vantage point that allowed them to see far down the coast in either direction. They made a game of looking for ships on the horizon and found meaning in the shapes of the clouds. Finally they climbed down from their perch and returned to Christine with their treasures. She remarked over every shell, turning it over and over in her hands. She listened with a mother's ear to the recounting of every minute of their adventure. He sat next to her, watching first his wife and then each of his children. He knew then that the hell that had been his life had been worth it. Surviving the ugliness of his childhood, the horror that was war, and the dehumanization of prison, had led him down a road that had ended in heaven. The scent of his wife, the smile of his children, those things made all that had gone before seem farther and farther away.
Joseph and Katie Rose wandered away to resume work on Joseph's 'sancaso' as Katie put it. Sliding behind Christine, he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back against his chest with a contented sigh. Dividing their attention between one another and the children, they stayed like that for what seemed like hours. He wished again that time could stop, that this day would never have to end.
Answering Katie Rose's call, Catherine reluctantly broke their embrace and returned to the water's edge with their daughter. Stretching out on the blanket once more, he watched while Joseph fussed over his creation. Towers, roads, even a moat, all transferred themselves from his son's imagination to the sand. With a happy sigh, he lay back, pillowing his head on his arms. Watching the sea birds' chaotic dance above the beach, he allowed it all to wash over him. He was wrapped in a blanket of warmth, contentment and love.
~*~
He didn't remember falling asleep. The dreams had not come to him, but he awoke with a sense of disquiet. The sky had turned grey, the clouds gathering to obscure the light. The birds had disappeared and there was a chill in the air. Pushing himself to his elbows, he realized that he was alone. Leaping to his feet, he staggered as a wave of dizziness buffeted him. His heart pounding in his ears, he looked frantically around for his family. Spotting three figures in the distance, walking along the water's edge, he took a deep breath and tried to dismiss his fears. He couldn't remember any of the old nightmares coming to him, but it was the only explanation for the sense of dread that hung over him. He began to pursue his family on legs that trembled and felt wooden. Cursing the specters of his past once more, he pushed himself on. The sand seemed to pull at him, making each step more difficult than the last. His heart began to beat even faster, the sense of dread coming nearer as his family moved farther away. He tried calling to them, but the wind threw his voice back in his face mockingly. Hot tears surprised him as they trailed down his face. Suddenly he felt himself push past the invisible barrier that held him back. He began to run.
Uncontrolled panic gave wings to his feet and he flew across the sand after his family. Still they seemed to move farther and farther away from him. He felt his hold on reality growing tenuous. All that was good in the world was disappearing from his life and nothing he did could halt its passing. He watched as suddenly another figure came from beyond the rocks and moved toward his family. Christine stopped, letting go of the hands of their children. The little ones, oblivious to their mother's abandonment, continued on down the beach, disappearing into the deepening gloom. His wife turned to the other figure a man and they embraced as lovers.
"Christine!" he screamed.
"Chief, wake up!"
He opened his eyes. Concerned eyes looked into his, but they were the wrong ones. With a pain-filled cry, he prayed that he would wake from the nightmare once more. But try as he might, he could not deny the knowledge that this was no dream. Reality looked back at him from the faces of the other four men that were the only family he had.
The end
