A Call From The Army

• Shinju Lum, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2011

Mother was having her daily cup of coffee, straight black, with her daily piece of newspaper as usual. Brother was sitting opposite her, although it was fairly early in the morning, he’s already dressed and tense. It has become second nature for Brother to be all wound up for a fight, like everyone else in this town.
The telephone rang, breaking the fragile silence. Brother shot up off his chair, nearly tipping the table. Mother calmly set her paper down in a neat folded pile on the table and went to pick up the phone. I watch intently over the rims of my cup of milk. I rested my free hand on Brother’s shoulder, reassuring him that all will be well. But as I watch Mother’s eyebrows twitch, I knew that something was wrong. Call it a woman’s intuition or whatever you like, but I sensed a brewing storm over the telephone line. ‘But he’s only twelve’, I heard Mother whisper as she set the receiver back onto its stand.
Mother’s eyes were clouded deeply when she turned around the face us again. The words sliding off her tongue didn’t make any sense. Why would the army want Brother? Of course, I knew the answer to my own question, but my heart wouldn’t let it register in my mind.
I dragged Brother up the stairs to our deceased Father’s bedroom. I stand opposite him, looking at him, the exact replica of our Father, but only reaching up to my shoulder. ‘You can’t leave for the army!’ I said, although I knew nothing would stop him. ‘But I will.’ he replied, his tension gone like the wind. Mother could not go on living without Brother since our dear Father’s death, so I feared the worst for her poor state of health. Suddenly, a plan started to form in my mind, growing so quickly and brilliantly that perhaps the Gods had planted it there for this exact purpose.
I count the inching hours as they pass by, for Mother had said that the army would collect the new recruits at 12 in the afternoon this very day. I search for Mother’s sleeping pills, the ones that she keeps with her reading glasses on her nightstand. I slipped 2 pale pills into each pocket on both sides of my dressing gown, and went downstairs to prepare a ‘going-away’ breakfast. One in the porridge for Mother, and one in the omelette for Brother.
After watching them slump down on the table, I got dressed in Brother’s clothing’s, and cut off the long, beautiful hair, I was proud of. I ran out the door as Big Ben struck eleven o’clock. Racing towards the towards the town centre, getting ready for the army. Luckily, since the war began, I’ve been honing my physical abilities with my little Brother. I didn’t care if I died or not, as long as Brother and Mother lived, lived for me, my life of sixteen years