I watched the boys playing outside in the snow on the sidewalk as I washed the glass over and over in my hand. They had built a gigantic snowman and were now making snowballs to throw at each other. I couldn’t help but smile.
I shook my head and put the glass back in its spot under the bar, reminiscing about when I was a little boy and used to do the same things with my friends.
I grabbed another glass and repeated my routine when I heard the tinkle of the bells on the front door. I whipped my head up, thinking that maybe a customer had finally shown up, but it wasn’t; it was one of the boys.
He ran right up to the bar, sidled into the stool, put his hands on the countertop, and braced himself.
“Yes?”
“Mister, I don’t know if you’ve seen what we’re doing outside, but we’re building things.”
“Yes, I have seen that,” I said. “That’s a very nice snowman.”
“Snowwoman,” the boy corrected. “Anyway, we were wondering if you have any extra carrots that we could use for decoration?”
I looked up at him over the tops of my glasses.
“How many do you need?”
The boy fidgeted a little. “Well, we’re going to build two more big snowpeople outside here, so that would be three, but I need three more, so that’s a total of six.”
“And why do you need six and not three?”
The boy stared at the ground for a little bit before looking back up at me.
“Because they’re for my momma,” he said matter-of-factly.
I smiled. “Well, why didn’tcha say so?”
I went back into the kitchen, grabbed six carrots, and brought them out to the little boy. The look of delight on his face was worth it.
“Thanks, Mister!”
The boy took the carrots and ran outside, where he and the other boys used three of the carrots for noses as they built two more “snowpeople,” as the boy called them.
Twilight was settling in as the sun began to go down. I started closing down for the day and thought about the little boy. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I hadn’t seen him around as much as the others.
The boys had been playing in front of the restaurant before I bought it, which was five years ago. Yes, business was slow, and paying the bills was hard, but watching those boys every day made my heart warm up. My wife left me due to the financial struggles we came into because of this place, but seeing the boys play made me feel a lot better.
It didn’t matter if it was rain, shine, summer, winter, or a damn monsoon; the boys always played in the same spot, every day.
I finished my closing duties and went outside, turning around to lock the door before I headed to my car — a 1974 Plymouth Fury.
She wasn’t pretty by any means, but she got me where I needed to go, and I’ve had her ever since I got back from ‘Nam. I bought her new and have kept Miss Tanny ever since. She was a comfort, just like the boys were.
I got in and started Miss Tanny up, letting the car warm up before driving off. As I pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the road, “American Soldier” by Toby Keith started playing on the radio. A veteran myself, I smiled and turned it up.
Just as it got to the beginning of the first chorus, I saw a glimmer of bright orange in the cemetery. I slowed down and looked. In the fading daylight, I saw what looked like a little boy trudging up the hill with a foot and a half of snow on it. I couldn’t let that happen.
I pulled into the cemetery, rolled down my window, and yelled, “Need a ride?”
The figure looked over at me, and sure enough, it was a little boy. In fact, it was the little boy from earlier. I noticed that in his gloved right hand, he clutched the three extra carrots I had given him. And in his left hand were a dozen roses.
“Sure, Mister!”
The boy ran over to my car and got in.
“Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate this.”
“No problem,” I said. “I do have a question, though.”
“Shoot.”
“Why are you at the cemetery at night with three carrots and a dozen roses?”
The boy looked at the floor and fidgeted again. I could hear him swallow a knot that had formed in his throat.
“I’m seeing my momma,” he whispered.
I slammed on my brakes, stopping at the top of the hill, and looked over at him.
“Your momma’s dead?”
“No! She’s just a deployed soldier!”
With that, he jumped out of the car and ran off into the freshly falling snow. Out of my sight.
“Wait!” I called. “Hey, wait a minute!”
I got out of the car and made to chase after the boy, but the cemetery lights hadn’t come on yet, and some sections didn’t even have automatic lights. I could see the boy’s footsteps, though, and so I followed them.
I finally found him in front of a small headstone that now had a dozen roses in front of it. And the boy was making three “snowpeople” next to the grave. It was snowing heavily, but it didn’t seem to deter him at all.
I watched as he meticulously crafted each snowball, huffing and puffing against the strain of doing it by himself, and the –15 degree windchill whipping through the air. Finally, he got done and stood on his tiptoes to put the carrots on the “snowpeople’s” faces. But the tallest one, he couldn’t reach. I could see the distress on his face, the anger and tears beginning to well.
I rushed over.
“Here,” I said as I grabbed the carrot. “I’ll do it.”
I put the carrot on the “snowperson” and stepped back.
“They’re beautiful,” I said.
“Thank you,” the boy replied. “That’s me, my momma, and my daddy.”
He pointed at the “snowpeople” in order, and it turned out that the tallest one was his mother. Interesting…
“Well, I should be going home now.”
The boy turned on his heel and went to leave when I grabbed his shoulder.
“Where do you live?”
“With my daddy,” he said. “In the hospital.”
The hospital was the local term for the assisted living facility on the edge of town, nearly 10 miles away from the cemetery here.
“Let me drive you.”
“Mister, I’m good I-”
“Please, I insist.”
He bit his lip as his forehead wrinkled, contemplating my offer.
“Alright,” he finally said.
So we got back in my car. This time, Miss Tanny started up without any whirring or delay, and I turned the radio down instead of up. As we began to pull away, I couldn’t help myself.
“Boy, why do you do this?”
“Why do I make snowpeople and leave roses that I stole for my momma?”
I nodded.
“It’s because she’s still a deployed soldier.”
“Boy, you do know that deployed-”
“Yes,” he said crisply. “I know what deployed means. Daddy says that she’s on a mission for Jesus now.”
I nearly hit the tree in front of me. My God. What had this kid been through?
“Daddy and momma met when they were stationed over in Afghanistan together. They fell in love, and then they had me! But about a year after I was born, both momma and daddy got sent back to Afghanistan again. But this time, something bad happened. They were involved in a big bombing thingy. Daddy got injured and is now paralyzed from the neck down, and Momma was selected by Jesus to go on a secret mission. Momma had saved another injured soldier by pushing him out of the way and taking the blow, and apparently Jesus thought Momma to be such an amazing soldier that he took her for his own army.”
I could hardly see from the tears that were in my eyes and steadily falling down my face. I’ve heard a lot of bad stories in my day and have seen a lot of bad things, especially in Vietnam, but I have never, never, heard something like that before. Even if I did see a whole village get blown up on accident due to a communication issue. However, the only casualties in that bombing were people who had no family. No one to miss them. No one to remember them. No one to leave behind.
I also noticed that he pronounced Afghanistan wrong, but who was I to judge? He was a little boy, for crying out loud.
“I build the snowpeople and leave roses on her grave whenever I want momma to come visit,” the boy continued. “She can see it from heaven, Daddy says, and so she knows when to come down when she sees red and orange.”
I couldn’t speak, so I just grunted my affirmation.
We sat in silence for the duration of the ride to the hospital.
“We’re here,” I said gruffly.
“We are! Thanks, Mister!”
I nodded and watched as he got out of my car and ran to the front doors that opened upon his arrival. He disappeared, and I sighed. I put Miss Tanny in drive and headed towards the main road when I happened to look in my rearview mirror.
Through the thick, fat flakes that cascaded down to the ground, I saw a silhouette of a really tall woman head toward the front doors that the boy had just entered. I got out of my car and looked into the falling snow and twinkling Christmas lights, and saw as she appeared in the doorway.
She had on a military uniform that was all sorts of dirty, torn, and stained. Her hair was tied up in the tightest bun I’ve ever seen, and in her left hand was a helmet and a red rose.
I opened my mouth to say something when she turned around and looked dead at me. My mouth dropped open as I saw her face and saw more of the little boy whom I had come to know in it than I thought possible.
She smiled at me, turned fully around, and stood at attention before saluting me. I saluted back and watched as she walked into the hospital.
This was written by our contributing writer, Brooke Johnpier.
Image Source: Unsplash, Tsuyoshi Kozu
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