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by William Michaelian |
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The young man didn’t want to kill people, so they put him in prison. After that, every day, they sent someone to ask if he was ready to fight. Each time, he told them no. To make him comply, they stopped giving him his meals. You can eat all you want, they said, when you join our effort to rid the world of evil. Dazed, he looked up at them. Without blinking, he said, To rid the world of evil, you must first rid yourselves of evil. The statement earned him a violent beating that left him unconscious. When he came to, there was a stranger sitting beside him in the cell. I’m a doctor, the stranger said. I’m here to help you. The young man managed a smile. Thank you, he said. Then the doctor gave him a shot, and the young man lost consciousness again. He’s ready, the doctor said to a guard waiting outside. Do you have the uniform? The guard nodded. Together, they stripped off the young man’s clothing and replaced it with a soiled military uniform. The doctor gave the young man another shot. Wake up, he said, slapping his face. Come on. Wake up. You have work to do, remember? The young man opened his eyes. What am I doing here? he said. What happened? The doctor smiled. You’ve been sick. But don’t worry, you’re all right now. The doctor gave him still another shot. This will help you regain your strength, he said. The young man sat up. I feel stronger already, he said. He looked at the uniform he was wearing and asked if it belonged to him. The doctor said it did. This is what you were wearing when we found you, he said. And then he told the young man that he had been very brave, and had saved the lives of a whole platoon. I’m sure this will earn you a medal, he said. Doesn’t that make you proud? The young man’s face was quiet, thoughtful. I don’t remember, he said. Are you sure that really happened? To prove he was telling the truth, the doctor told the guard to bring in one of the young man’s platoon members. A few minutes later, they were joined by another young man dressed as a soldier. Hello, Jim, he said. Glad to see you’re feeling better. Then he thanked the young man for saving his life. We never would have made it without you, he said with a great deal of emotion in his voice. You’re a real hero. I’ve already written home about you. Someday, I’d like you to meet my sister. I think she’d make you a good wife. The young man smiled. He didn’t remember being a hero, but it gave him a nice feeling to be treated as one. One thing he did remember, though, was his desire to find a pretty girl and get married. Since he was fifteen, he had wanted to love someone and raise a family. But the girls he’d known had said they weren’t ready. Now it looked as if he would get his chance. Just thinking about it made him feel good. A minute later, however, when he was shown the girl’s picture, he knew something was wrong. She was pretty enough, but her face seemed to be hiding something. I guess you’re anxious to get back in action, the grateful soldier said. I know I am. Action? the young man said. Yes, the solider said. Only this time, we’re going to take that hill. And we’ll kill every one of those bastards if we have to, right? The soldier grinned. The young man took another look at his sister’s picture, then handed it back to him. No, no, you keep that, the soldier said. Keep it. It’ll bring you luck. At this point, the doctor intervened. It sure is nice to see you boys together, he said. It warms my heart. When I see this kind of spirit, I know our country is in good hands. He gave the young man’s shoulder a hearty pat. Jim, he said, I’m proud of you. We all are. Keep this up, and I’ll bet you could run for congress. Jim looked at the doctor, then at the soldier whose life he was supposed to have saved. He got up and stretched. The uniform he was wearing was covered with dry patches of blood and dirt. He tried to picture the battle that had made him a hero, but couldn’t. His brain held no memory of it whatsoever. It looks like you need another shot, the doctor said. You’re still a little weak. No, Jim said. Please. I just need to think. But there isn’t time, the doctor said. You’re needed at the front. Once again, Jim said no. He sat on the edge of his bed. Please, he said. I appreciate all you’ve done. Can’t we wait just awhile? I’m trying to remember something. I’m afraid that won’t be possible, the doctor said. The longer you wait, the more innocent people will be killed. You don’t want to be responsible for killing innocent people, do you? No, Jim said. I don’t. And then, all at once he remembered. No, he said again. No. The doctor nodded at the soldier. Hold him, he said. The soldier grabbed Jim from behind and held him tight while the doctor administered another shot. It looks like this one will take a little longer, the doctor said as he slowly withdrew the needle. Jim’s eyes closed. He fell backward onto the bed. When he woke up, he was alone. All alone. William Michaelian’s newest releases are two poetry collections, Winter Poems and Another Song I Know, published in paperback by Cosmopsis Books in San Francisco. His short stories, poems, and drawings have appeared in many literary magazines and newspapers. His novel, A Listening Thing, is published here in its first complete online edition. For information on Michaelian’s other books and links to this site’s other sections, please go to the Main Page or visit Flippantly Answered Questions. |
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