I had put a lot of closure into my last day at my home, so I distinctively remembered closing the front door. It didn’t dawn on me that anyone was in my house; it never even crossed my mind until I stepped on my porch.
Through my open front door I could see into my dining room, and I spotted what looked to be a man, wearing a green military jacket and bandana, seated at the table. My heart jumped to my throat, and I debated on running and getting one of the soldiers. But as I looked again, I saw him slowly flipping pages. Pages to the notebook I left on the table. Enraged by the invasion of my privacy, I didn’t pause to think of the consequences, and I grabbed a board that lay on my porch.
Holding it like a bat, I stepped quietly into my house. The floorboards creaked, but the man didn’t budge. He was smaller, and that eased any worry I had. Another step, and I stopped again when I caught glimpse of the left side of his face. His ear was gone, his cheek heavily scarred from burns.
He turned another page and chuckled.
How dare him?
“Get…” I graveled my voice and raised the board. “Out of my house!” I charged his way, readied to swing, and then he jolted around to face me.
Inches from connection, I froze. The board toppled from my hand, fell to the ground and I trembled out of control.
Mona stood up. “You got the story a little wrong,” she said. “I was eight miles outside of Tulsa.”
I was silent. I couldn’t speak, move, I don’t even think I took a breath.
“I was able to get below. But still…” She pointed to her face. “Jo? Jo, say something.”
“Oh, my God.” I whispered, slowly my hand reached out, almost as if I was afraid to touch her.
“I’m sorry it took so long. But I’m here now. Thank you.” Mona grabbed my hand. “Thank you for never giving up on me.”
The moment she touched me was the moment I knew it was real. Emotionally, and long, I gasped out the breath that I held, and then I grabbed on to Mona. The tears at that moment were unimaginable; the embrace kept us both from losing our balance. We held on, and we cried, right there in my dining room for the longest of time. No words. Just holding on to a piece of life we both thought was gone.
My plan was to go back to my home to say a final goodbye. To go full circle, retrieve my notebook, and really add a sense of closure to it all. I did. Mona returned. My list was finally complete. There truly was nothing left to do… but go on.
Copyright
Copyright 2003 by Jacqueline Druga.
Published by GreatoneAS
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.