YodaOnCrack's Stories

Homecoming

2008-07-19T11:45:22Z

Billy stared at Mindy, motionless in the June sunlight. He looked into the crowd, recognizing the faces and voices of many. People waited in hopeful silence as he moved around his brother’s grave. He dropped to his knees and touched Pete’s tombstone, kneeling there for several minutes until the sound of a baby crying echoed through the outdoor PA system.

Mindy laughed, fumbled with the wireless microphone, and said, “You see, Uncle Billy, even the newest member of our family wants you back.”

As the crowd watched, Billy Mitchell ran to the podium and embraced Mindy Mitchell, the baby between them. Crying, she placed her daughter into his arms and began to clap. Soon thousands of people were clapping and cheering as Billy carried his young niece away from the crowd.

As they walked away from the podium, Billy turned around and looked up at the flag. No longer crying, his young niece also looked up and seemed to be pointing at the colorful cloth that waved through the air like a beacon of hope for the future.

The Price of Freedom

2008-07-19T11:39:34Z

When the song was finished, Mindy Mitchell picked up the microphone. She held her two-month-old daughter in her arms as she spoke. “We’re here today to honor my husband, Private First Class Peter Mitchell. I want you to know that he’s standing here with us today.”

There was a loud cheer and the crowd clapped for several seconds. “This flag will be flying long after you leave here today and even long after we’ve all parted ways. It’s bigger than all of us and it will fly across the skies of this country and foreign lands as long as there are people who are willing to die for what it means.”

The crowd cheered again, but quieted as Mindy turned to Billy. “Private Billy Mitchell has stood here for three months to teach us about honor. People from around the world have come here today to watch him stand by his brother’s grave. It’s a wonderful lesson for us all, Billy, but I know that Pete wouldn’t want you here any longer! He wants you to live your life, be happy and enjoy the freedoms he died fighting for.

Tribute

2008-07-19T11:34:38Z

Jim Johnson stepped up to a platform, paused for a moment, and then picked up a wireless microphone. “We built this flag to honor a man who paid the ultimate price for freedom. It is a tribute to his honorable service to you, me, and the millions of others who live freely in our country. Billy Mitchell knows that honor is about always doing what’s right, even dying for what’s right if that’s what it takes. That’s what his brother did, and that’s why Billy has stayed here by his side all this time – so that we don’t ever forget it. This flag is for you, PFC Peter Mitchell! And for you too, Billy! We will never forget your service, your honor, and the bond you two shared as brothers in arms.”

Billy looked up at the flag, entranced by its elegant beauty. His dress uniform was replaced weeks ago with a pair of black sweats and a t-shirt that said U.S. Army across the chest. As the Findlay High School band played the national anthem, he came to attention and raised his hand in salute.

Jenna's Death

2008-07-17T02:13:19Z

I covered Jenna with the silk-stemmed flowers, the night river stars shining down on her lifeless body. I held her in my arms, sobbing behind my terrible mask. A gentle breeze swept over us and I covered her body with the thick quilt.

“Take off her mask,” I screamed as the sounds of the river grew louder.

“But I can’t. It wont come off of her small face, sir,” Roland exclaimed as he knelt beside her in terror.

She was my child, God damn you! Take off that pathetic mask. I want to see her face! I must see my child’s face, damn you! She was my daughter, don’t you understand? I want to see her eyes. I want to see her eyes! Her eyes, damn you!”

“She was his child!” SK-6 screamed from inside my head. I should have been here, and I could have prevented this! It didn’t have to happen. Damn you, Maximus. I will destroy the Corporation, Incorporated. Do you hear me, Maximus?! Do you hear me, fool?!”

The March winds blew in, taking Jenna and her childhood with them. We buried her there and continued onward.

Raising the Flagpole

2008-07-17T00:13:28Z

“Wow, Jim, that’s such a generous thing for you to do. How much will we have to raise? You think it will it work?”

“It’s gonna be expensive, Mindy, but what I have planned will be unlike anything anyone has ever seen, and the total cost will be well over $300,000. You raise half the money and I’ll have it finished by Flag Day. Our flag has power, Mindy. When he sees it flying there above Pete’s grave, it may – well, it just may be what it takes. It’ll really be something. I can promise you that much!”

Several weeks later, the members of the Lost Tears web site raised enough money to build the flagpole. Thousands gathered for the dedication. Throughout the cemetery were war veterans of mixed generations, family, friends, patriots, and news crews.

All eyes were skyward as Jim Johnson and his Flying Colors staff hoisted the flag over 300 feet into the air. When the flag reached the top of the pole, it caught a strong breeze and rippled into a breathtaking display of colorful red-white-and-blue cloth.

Flying Colors Flagpoles

2008-07-17T00:04:41Z

The ideas and money kept pouring into the Lost Tears web site. “I don’t know what else to do,” Mindy said at the beginning of a podcast with Vietnam War veteran Jim Johnson. “We’ve tried everything and he won’t come home. Jim, he’s been out there for nearly three months.”

“Most people don’t understand what he’s been through,” Jim Johnson said. “We need to get his attention as a soldier – show him how much this country respects him and his brother.”

“Well, I’m open to anything,” Mindy said. “I really don’t think he’ll ever leave. It’s sad, but also an amazing story.”

Jim Johnson was the owner of a company called Flying Colors Flagpoles in Chattanooga, Tennessee. “I’m here today to make you and the members of Lost Tears an offer. I’ve talked to the owners of the cemetery where Peter Mitchell is buried, and I want to build the world’s tallest freestanding flagpole in his honor. There’s a perfect spot right across from Peter’s headstone, and if your members can raise half of the money, I’ll pay for the rest.”

Tribute to a Fallen Soldier

2008-07-16T23:22:51Z

Weeks passed and veterans from around the country came in droves to pay their respects to the fallen soldier. There were war protesters too, but they were largely ignored. A web site called Lost Tears was even established in Billy’s honor, with forums created to determine the best way to end his grief and convince him to leave the cemetery.

Mindy visited the Lost Tears web site daily, pleading with its members to help her find a way to get Billy to come home. A wealthy woman from Kentucky offered to put him in her will. A car dealership in Indiana offered him a new truck. People brought him food, chairs, tents, and alcohol. There were marriage proposals, job offers, record deals, and thousands of dollars worth of PayPal donations, but nothing seemed to work. Billy wouldn’t leave.

The ideas and money continued to pour into the Lost Tears web site. “I don’t know what else to do,” Mindy said at the beginning of a podcast with Vietnam War veteran Jim Johnson. “We’ve tried everything and he won’t come home.”

The Zoo Crew

2008-07-16T20:34:30Z

Kevin reached for the round can of Skoal chewing tobacco tucked in the back pocket of his blue jeans, pinching off a large plug and placing it behind his lower lip. “Worm dirt,” he said with a grin, speckles of the fine-cut tobacco peppered across his milky-white teeth.

“Here, Kev, have another beer,” Trax said, slapping him on the back. “Damn, boy, you’re as big as a House and twice as strong!”

“Yep,” Kevin said. He opened the beer and downed it in a few swallows before belching so loudly the surrounding fair patrons nearly ducked for cover.

“The rest of the Zoo Crew is headed on up over to the horse pull. Let’s go, House! I’ll race you there,” Trax said as he lit a Marlboro red and began jogging away.

Kevin spit sideways, wiped his mouth, and chased after him, the empty can of Stroh’s beer still in his hands. “I’m gonna kick your ass when I catch ya!”

When they arrived at the horse pull, a team of draft horses were attempting to pull a large weighted sled across a crowded field of onlookers.

PFC Peter Mitchell

2008-07-13T11:32:28Z

Beneath an overcast Ohio sky, the body of Private First Class Peter Mitchell was laid to rest. As the rain fell down around him, Billy watched the cars leave in single file. “You ready, Billy?” his father asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving,” Billy said, pushing his father’s hand away. “I’m going to stay right here with Pete.”

“It’s O.K.,” Mindy said. “We’ll come back, Tom. He needs some time alone.”

It was still raining when they returned 20 minutes later, the rain creating small puddles around the freshly cut earth. “I told you I’m not leaving,” Billy said, staring at the ground.

Two days later, Billy was still standing by his brother’s grave. The local newspaper covered the story the following weekend with the headline “No Man Left Behind” and soon the story was circulated throughout many Internet sites, newspapers, and TV stations.

Weeks passed and veterans from around the country came in droves to pay their respects. There were war protesters too, but they were largely ignored.

Sgt. Jason Coleman (Part 2)

2008-07-13T11:29:06Z

“It’s O.K., son,” Tom said as he stood up and walked to Jason’s side. “Let me help you find your seat.”

“No, I’m sorry, I’ve got one more thing to say, Mr. Mitchell.” Jason walked back to the podium as the look of an infantry solider returned to his face. “That day – the day he died we were taking heavy fire and I didn’t think we’d make it out alive, but Pete… Pete kept his cool and maintained his military bearing. I didn’t even know where I was – I lost it. He told us that if we believed in him we’d make it out alive. And we did.” Jason walked over to the casket, dropped to one knee, and squeezed Mindy’s hand gently.

Billy and Tom were too grief-stricken to say anything. Billy sat and stared at Sgt. Coleman and Mindy holding hands until he was asked by the funeral director to help carry the coffin away with the rest of the pallbearers.

The image of the two figures holding hands was still in his mind as the funeral procession made its way into the cemetery.

Sgt. Jason Coleman

2008-07-13T11:27:40Z

“Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell,” Father Brenner said. “Would anyone else like to share a memory?”

Sgt. Jason Coleman walked up to the podium in his dress uniform. He flashed a brilliant smile and said, “I’ve met some wonderful people today. Peter Mitchell surrounded himself with the people he loved, and he missed you all so very much. I led our squad on the day he fell. It was just a routine patrol and it’s hard to even talk about it now. Peter always told me he prided himself in never losing a friend. Whenever he’d get into it with somebody, he’d always say that life is too short to lose a friend. Funny how he always said that, huh?”

Jason stopped as a steady stream of tears fell down his smooth black cheeks. He put his hands to his eyes, paused, and said, “Sorry, just a second. Peter, um… Peter said his father taught him that life is too short to lose a friend. Now that I’ve met his Dad, Tom, I can understand why he lived his life that way. Pete never liked crying. Hang on-”

“It’s O.K., son,” Tom said.

The Eulogy

2008-07-13T11:23:15Z

Moving as if they were in a dream, they walked inside the funeral home to take their places near the casket to greet friends and relatives.

Hours later, both numb and tired, they took their seats with the others as Father Brenner began the eulogy. At the end he asked if anyone would like to share a memory.

Mindy, Pete’s pregnant wife, walked to the podium and stood there for a long time, seeming to stare through the assemblance of people. Her face was stone as the dim light from the nearby windows brightened momentarily. Her eyes were dry, her tears lost with the falling rain.

“Some days I feel so angry about the war. Pete was the best thing in my life. But then I just think about him and I feel better somehow. He believed in himself and those around him – always seemed to do the right thing. Somewhere in his eyes, I always found the answer – the truth. He was that kind of man, you know? Pete, we’ll always love you,” she said, placing her hand on her stomach and walking back to take her seat by his casket.

The Bird Lady

2008-07-12T12:38:41Z

The first time I met Micah she was probably 70 years old, a quirky squirrel of a lady with oversize glasses and a tie-dye sun dress she never washed. Micah Blane – zaniest lady ever worked for me – personality bigger than Elvis on a 3-day donut binge.

“Well, was she really crazy?” Dwight asked.

Crazy? Hell yeah, she was crazy! Crazy as a hoot-owl on acid! You would be too if you lived with a house full of hippies, thirteen cats, 4 dogs, and a pigeon house. Lots going on in that house – she rented it out to art students who painted the walls with all kinds of crazy scenes. It was purplish blue – looked like a big blue turd. Smelled like one inside too – didn’t seem to bother her long haired guests though.

“And the birds? Why was she called the bird lady?”

Oh yes, the pigeons. It was the pigeons that gave her that name. They were up to no good when she was gone, but they spoke to her alright. Told her things – things about to happen – things nobody should know. Things I don’t care to talk about even today.

War Protests!

2008-06-13T03:05:17Z

“You’re gonna grow up today more than ever before, Billy. I’ve buried a lot of people in my life, and it’s never easy. At least he died for a reason.”

“I was so proud of him. I let him down so many times, Dad. He was the best! I should have died instead of Pete, Dad! It should have been me who died!”

“What? Was fair to the men who died on D-Day when we invaded Normandy? You think it was fair to the 60,000 soldiers who died in Viet Nam? It could be both of you coming home dead, God damn it! There is no such thing as fair! Praise God you’re here with us today, Billy!!”

“It’s hard, Dad!!”

“Hell yeah, it’s hard! It’s tearing me up, Billy. It’s tearing me apart, but I simply can’t tolerate what they’re doing over there.” He twisted the front of his jacket with his fist as he pointed across the street to an assemblance of people with signs and umbrellas.

“They’re war protesters. I’ve checked into it – it’s legal for them to be there and there’s nothing we can do about it. Might as well get used to it.”

FICLETS FUTURE VISION CHALLENGE

2008-06-08T23:45:08Z

Ficlets should find an online Video Game Partner – when you write a ficlet and submit as part of a “chalenge”, it would be sent to a video game company’s web site where users vote on the best story line. Then they develop an online game based on winning ficlet. As the online world grows, more ficlet challenges would be created to develop the world, story line, challenges, character classes, etc. This concept could give Warcraft a run for the money….