Surrender by June Gray Page A

he’d take it.
    But the man before me in camouflage didn’t reach out, didn’t even acknowledge me. Instead he set the helmet over his blond head and picked up his rifle, holding it protectively over his chest. He turned away from me and faced the flat horizon.
    â€œCome back,” I called out, drifting away from him. Tears were streaming down my face, and I sobbed, thinking that if I cried hard enough, he’d turn around and change his mind. I knew if he left now, he would not come back alive. “Please don’t go. Please. I don’t want you to go.”
    He looked over his shoulder, flashing me a confident smile. “Don’t worry. I’m going to find him,” he said with a young boy’s voice. “I’ll find him for you. I’ll come back with Dad.”
    Then he walked off toward the desert, disappearing into the dusty, tan horizon.
    â€”
    I woke up, my back covered in sweat, my pillow damp from tears. I’d had the dream before and though the location sometimes changed, the outcome was always the same. If I was lucky, like today, I’d wake up before his body was brought back in a coffin.
    With trembling fingers, I lifted Neal’s heavy arm off my waist and rolled out of bed. I rummaged around in my purse for my cell phone before heading to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I sat on the toilet lid and took deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves.
    I knew it had only been a dream, that Will was not actually going off to war, but my body felt it anyway, as if the absolute horror of watching someone you love die was now part of my muscle memory.
    A good five minutes elapsed as I stared at the phone in my hand before finally deciding to hit the call button. I didn’t know if seven thirty in the morning was too early, but I needed to hear my son’s voice.
    John picked up on the third ring. “Good morning,” he said. “How are you enjoying your trip?”
    â€œIt’s been fun,” I said, feeling a twinge of embarrassment that John knew where I was, what I was doing here. “I just wanted to check up on Will.”
    â€œHe’s doing well. We stayed up late last night watching
The Lion King
, so he’s still asleep.” I heard some shuffling in the background, then, “Oh, wait, he’s here.”
    â€œHello?” came the sleepy little voice on the line, easing the tightness in my lungs.
    â€œHi, honey.”
    â€œMom! Where are you?”
    â€œI’m still here,” I replied with tears gathering in my eyes.
    â€œWhen are you coming home?”
    â€œTomorrow morning. Unless you want me to come home earlier?”
    â€œNo, it’s okay. Grandma and Grandpa are taking me strawberry picking today at a real farm.”
    â€œThat’s fantastic! What did you do yesterday?” I hugged my knees to my chest and listened as Will gave a blow-by-blow account of his day, sounding so happy it almost hurt to know that it hadn’t been with me. It struck me again that he was growing up so fast, and soon he’d be deciding on his future, perhaps even wanting to follow in his father’s footsteps. And as much as I appreciate those in the military for their sacrifice, I didn’t want my son joining their ranks. The military had already stolen one man from my life; I would fight tooth and nail to make sure it didn’t claim another.
    â€œWill, remember to be polite and well mannered, okay? And don’t eat too many sugary things. You know how it makes you shaky.”
    I was sure his eyes were rolling. “Okay, Mom. You know I’m always good.”
    â€œYes, you are.” I looked down in time to see a tear drop on my knee. “I love you.”
    â€œLove you, too, Mom. ’Bye!”
    â€œâ€™Bye.”
    I looked around the clean bathroom, a strange feeling of detachment settling over me.
    What the hell am I doing here? I should be back in Monterey with my son.
    I