July 4th, an Independence day in all USA. Tradition was to make a barbeque, buy fireworks and plenty of beer. Fresh from the service, this was far more special day than just an American holiday. It was a reason for me to gather all the living brothers in arms and celebrate it. I knew that at least four of them wouldn’t come due to their own problems, but maybe they will surprise me.
Anyways, I heated up the grill and began grilling meat. Smoked sausages needed a little more time to chill in the open before I lay them next to the burgers. My wife, still lovely and with the figure of a girl brought salad, when our boy ran out a toy blaster glowing in his hands.
– We are not military, so don’t carbonate that burgers. – she smiles hanging from my shoulder.
– Don’t worry. We had raw meat a couple of times. – I return a smile, but she received it with a partial grin.
– Good God. You know that’s unhealthy, right? – this second smile struck me.
– Hey. We were not allowed to make fire, so we had to eat it raw. Either that, either starve. – I said aggravated because she the conditions we served in were inscrutable to her, just like to the rest of my countrymen that just wanted to do their jobs and stare at the TV until they fall asleep.
Few hours later, company was here. As usual, everybody brought some of their own food, their girlfriends and family. We used our front yard for a feast. It was easier to park the car and just relocate to table where we amassed food for the whole platoon. Music came from the player in the house, our flag danced on the evening wind, lamp posts gave us a fair amount of light just enough to see where the foods is at.
Our children went in the backyard to play, and we left the oldest teenager to watch out for them. Kayla was more interested in our WiFI than looking after kids. Strangely, boys were also more interested in plasma screen and xbox than fine looking girls around them.
Just about midnight, fireworks began illuminating our sky where those drunk veterans looked at it from the porch stairs and spilled their beers for the fallen. Who had brought their wives and girlfriends, used this emotional moment to congratulate the Independence with a kiss and a hug. Whoever had children, it made them look at the colors in the air, spoke to them the meaning of freedom and America, but some hugged their children and kissed them on their heads.
Nobody knew where our son was. Like he vanished, so I went to search for him. He wasn’t feeding neighbours dog on the fence, even if the dog squealed and shook his tail. I called him by name, but he haven’t replied. Fireworks flashed above, chasing shadows from the dark backyard, but still, no trail of my boy.
Strong lights, almost blinding lights flashed at the little boy who tried to cover his eyes with his elbow and jacked the toy blaster in his hand. He walked toward the opaque glowing red light before him that multiplied and grew bigger. He saw markings on the floor, something inscrutable. He finally raised his head and with his slanted eye saw a shape of a tall person.
– Are you Jesus? – the boy asked, yet answer never came.
And some stories that don’t classify as conspiracy theory.