The War is Over

            "I'll come back for you, I promise."

             "I know. I'll wait until the day I die."

            There was the white fence surrounding the perfectly manicured lawn and the wrap-around porch that circled the periwinkle blue two-story house. A rainbow of flowers sat in perfect rows right underneath the white railing of the porch, making the day feel a little brighter. A German Shepherd dog lay curled up just beneath a swing, where a beautiful woman sat, staring off towards the road.

            It was too perfect, this picture of peace. He didn't want to ruin it with his news; news that was not in sync with this picture of perfection. He pulled up next to the fence and turned off the Humvee. He fiddled with his hat for a moment before reaching over and grabbing the folded flag that lay on the passenger seat.

            "Gods, give me strength," he whispered, walking through the gate and up the sidewalk.

            The dog stood at the top of the stairs, ears alert and head tilted, like he was confused. The woman stood and walked over so that she was a step behind her beloved pet, the pet that had probably kept her company while her significant other had gone to war.

            "Victor?" Her voice was quiet, but her sky blue eyes held hope. "Is it really you?"

            He winced; he knew he shouldn't have taken this one. He should have Elijah, or Lysander, take it; anyone but him. He wasn't who she wanted him to be, but he was close, too close and it had confused her.

            "No, ma'am," He cleared his throat and held out the flag, along with a box of medals that had been in his pocket, to her. "Michelle Senca, I'm here to bring the news that your, er, Sergeant Major Victor Smith was killed in combat. He was a brave man and fought well."

            Michelle shook her head. "No, I can tell you're lying to me. Why are you trying to pull such a cruel trick, Victor?"

            "No, ma'am," he sighed. "My name is Matthias Smith, I'm his younger brother. We're twins, but his eyes are blue and mine are brown."

            Michelle was silent for a few moments, studying the man before her. Slowly, ever so slowly, realization dawned on her face. No, this wasn't the man she thought he was. His eyes, his speech, and the way he stood: it was different than the man she knew.

    “Oh… Uh,” she paused, looking for my rank through the medals I wore on my chest.

    He gave a sympathetic smile, “Major Smith, ma’am.”

    “Major, would you like to come inside for a bit?” There was a shyness in her eyes that her face did not betray. “I could use the company, especially if…”

    Michelle dropped off, sorrow filled her voice. Matthias grinned politely and offered his arm. “Why don’t you tell me more about my brother, ma’am? I never spent much time with him after he graduated. You must have some interesting tales to spin.”

    She laughed, a musical laughter; it was perfect, just like everything else about her. No wonder his brother fancied her like he did. She rambled on as they walked inside, pausing only to offer a drink and a seat.

    Matthias smiled as he saw his brother in a new light. The older man had a soft side, and this woman had been his whole world. The smile dropped a little as he remembered how his brother had died, how he made Matthias promise to take care of her.

    “You’ll look after her, right?”

    “Hush, Victor, you’ll be fine.”

    “No, Matty…” He coughed, blood flying from his lips. “It’s time to put our rivalry away and make up for…” Another cough, “Just take care of her, please. She’s all I got, and I dunno how she’ll…” He coughed again, harder, and more blood came up.

    “I promise, Victor, I promise…”

    “Are you alright, Major?” Michelle asked, breaking his thoughts. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

    Matthias smiled. “I’m just fine, and you can call me Matthias,” he paused, leaning forward in his chair. “I was just remembering my promise to my brother, ma’am.”

    “Well, Matthias,” she smiled, “Call me Michelle. And what promise was that?”

    She had served the iced tea and sipped from her glass. Matthias picked his up and swallowed a generous amount. He stirred the ice and amber liquid for a moment before setting the glass down and speaking,

    “He asked me to take care of you, ma-Michelle. I promised to him, before he passed, that I would do whatever you needed me to. He claimed you were all he had and was deeply worried about your well-being,” he spoke to his boots, but quickly looked up as he added hastily, “Not that you can’t take care of yourself, ma’am, I just mean that–”

    Michelle waved her hand and smiled, dismissing his words. “Don’t worry, Matthias,” she smiled, remembering something they shared. She looked back at him, her sky blue eyes hopeful. “I’ll take you up on your offer, soldier, don’t fret. We’ll put his memory to good use. We won’t forget him.”