The Mighty First, Episode 3 by Bordner Mark

The Mighty First, Episode 3 by Bordner Mark

Author:Bordner, Mark [Bordner, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2015-03-25T16:00:00+00:00


October 18th

Winslow, Arizona

The Carreno property had been tidied and kept by the neighbors while they had been at the hospital in Flagstaff. A call to a family friend had arranged their transportation home, and now as Minerva and her mother tried to help Cleo from the car, he grumbled and gently pushed them away.

“I can do it!” He complained.

Part of Cleo’s spine had fused together, forcing him to walk with a slight hunch, but he insisted that it was no issue for him to do things on his own. Andrea wrung her hands together, watching him navigate the porch steps, swinging one leg up at a time

while using the rail for support. He managed to reach the stoop, though, with a chuckle of triumph. Minerva smiled and put an arm around her mother’s shoulder while they followed. That was her Pappy, always fiercely independent.

Unlocking the door, they entered to find the floors cleaned and gift baskets of food and sundries waiting on the dining table. The sense of community in their small town prevailed anything that the war could possibly throw at them. Cleo retired to his soft chair and clicked on the TV with a sigh of relief. It was good to be home. Andrea clucked about the kitchen, organizing things while Minerva leaned in the doorway, watching her.

“What’s on your mind, Minerva?”

Her daughter smiled sadly and shrugged, “I just used to imagine doing what you’re doing. Being a wife. I’m already a widow.”

Andrea paused in her activity and led her daughter to the dining table to sit down, “You’re a strong, young woman, now. You need to live your life. It’s what he would have wanted you to do.”

“I know, Mama. It’s just, it was so soon! I really thought that if anyone could survive the war, he could have!”

Her mother squeezed her hands, “It doesn’t seem real, does it? It just doesn’t feel like he’s really gone. Part of me doesn’t accept it.”

“Is it hope or denial?” Minerva asked.

Her mother did not hesitate in her reply.

“Faith.”



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