Remembrance Day

I never met my mother. She died shortly after I was born. The locket, which her mother had given her, and her mother before her, was the only token of her I had. I didn’t always wear it, but it was always with me.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Why did I look so tired? I pulled at my eyes trying to get rid of the bags, pinched my cheeks and hid my pale lips under some coral lipstick.

A knock at the door.

‘Coming!’ I yelled, grabbing the smart, between-season coat I had just bought. It was spring and one never knew what the weather might do.

‘Let’s go.’ Hayden said, annoyed with me. ‘Why are you always late?’

‘I’m like, 2 minutes late.’

‘Ten.’

‘Whatever.’

Hayden was my closest friend. She had the nicest car and was always runway ready. Not having kids made it easier to spend money on things like that.

We got in her sports car, brand new and smelling of the showroom. She drove like she was the most important person in the world.

‘I really hate going to these things.’ I said, fingering the locket in my pocket.

‘Ya, well, we don’t have a choice.’

I sighed, frustrated. She was right. I wished I could be as ambivalent as she was. I wished I could care less. But she didn’t have a kid, a daughter out with an over-priced sitter, to think about.

Hayden brought the car to a screeching halt outside the park. Every time the city put this event on they spent a small fortune making the park into this wonderland of flowers, streamers, petit fours and canapés.

‘They certainly have gone all-out again.’ I said, slipping on sunglasses.

‘Mmm-hmm.’ She headed straight for a waiter carrying a tray of mimosas.

The whole city, well, town rather, was there. Hill Valley, the contradictory name of our little oasis, was having it’s annual Remembrance Day and it was a more than just a social requirement to attend.

I looked around, kids were playing, picnics were set up, a bandstand was tuning its instruments and there was someone pulling taffy. ‘I guess we’re going for a 1920’s feel this year. A little wholesome slice of Americana.’

‘Looks that way. Let’s go find Sarah. She’ll be loitering near the cake – she always eats her emotions.’

The park filled, little by little. Sundresses, chinos and cigars.

We found Sarah, anxiety covering her face as much as her hastily applied contour.

‘I swear there are more people this year. I swear.’ Sarah, a sweet doe-eye girl who’d fallen for her high-school sweetheart, was indeed, shovelling cake in her mouth.

‘You know that’s not possible.’ Hayden added, matter-of-fact.

A man approached up, Ted Barns, the master of ceremonies, as it were. He wore a neat, navy, double-breasted blazer with gold buttons and a boating hat.

‘Your tickets ladies.’ He handed one to me and one to Sarah, but not to Hayden.

We all smiled falsely. ‘Thanks Ted.’

I looked at the little red slip of paper in my hand, numbers arbitrarily printed on it and torn away from some carnival spool of ten thousand other tickets. 3-2-1-0-0-6. KEEP YOUR COUPON in aggressive typeface.

‘What’s your number?’ I asked Sarah, her eyes already getting puffy.

‘3-8-1-7-5-1. Yours?’

‘3-2-1-0-0-6.’

I pressed the locket secretly between my fingers. I wondered if I’d eventually wear it through.

‘Do you remember being that little?’ I asked, glancing at the children across the way.

‘I do.’ Chirped Sarah. ‘I remember everything.’

‘Do you remember coming to these things?’

‘Ya.’

‘What do you remember the most?’ I hoped for something simple and wholesome.

‘Ice cream…’ she paused. ‘and the screaming.’

We all took a sip of our drinks.

I walked over to an enormous wall of hydrangeas, gorgeous big blossoms of pinks, blues, whites and purples.

‘Did you hear?’ Sarah hurriedly whispered in my ear, making me jump out of my skin.

‘Hear what?’

‘Mary told me that over in Greenville, where her brother lives, that they aren’t doing Remembrance Day anymore.’

‘What? Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone has to do it. It’s tradition. It’s law.’

‘I know, I know but that’s what she said. Her brother told her that the mayor just got up one day and said, enough’s enough.’

‘Ya, and if I said the sky was pink would you believe me?’

‘But wouldn’t it be great? I mean, think about, how nice would it be if there was no Remembrance Day?’

I sighed. ‘Nice. Sure. But the consequences…’

Sarah’s hopeful smile vanished. ‘The consequences.’ She repeated.

Too many people - famine, drought, death.

‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ Ted shouted like a ring master. ‘If all the adults could please make their way to the lake, the unveiling ceremony will begin shortly.’

Sarah gasped. I took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. We walked back to where Hayden had plowed her way through several more mimosas.

‘Should have gotten here earlier.’ She said, downing another. ‘I can still feel my toes.’

Everyone began to make their way across the neat green grass, under an archway of pastel coloured balloons, chattering happily, the sun on their faces and a cool breeze blowing off the lake. I pushed the light layers of my dress down as they fluttered.

‘My heals keep sinking into the ground.’ Hayden complained.

‘Wear flats next time.’

‘I look like a hobbit in flats.’

The whole town had gathered, some two hundred-odd people.

A platform had been built and covered in festive banners with a podium standing front and center. Behind it was the monument, tall and shapeless under a heavy canvas cloth. Ted strode up on stage like a king before his subjects. Being town mayor gave him way too much self-confidence. I guess that’s what happens when you know your number isn’t going to be called. No red ticket for Ted.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this year’s Remembrance Day celebration!’

Claps and whistles.

‘It’s been forty-three years since the first Remembrance Day, some of you here may very well remember it – I’m looking at you Mr. Owens.’ The crowd laughs. ‘It was on this day in 2045 that the whole world stood on the edge of knife, teetering there, so very close to falling into oblivion…had it not been for the sacrifice of so many, many brave souls. Had it not been for them, the food, water and clean air that we enjoy would have disappeared, and all of us along with it.’ I eyed the discrete tool in Ted’s right hand bitterly. ‘While today is to remember them and those that followed in their foot steps, it is also to bestow a great honour on a few of our lucky, lucky fellow townsfolk. This year, three people will be given the chance to serve our great nation, to be a shinning example to all of us, to help ensure that we never again, stand on that knife’s edge.’

Someone in the front row lifted up an elegant, mother-of-pearl inlaid box. Ted took it and placed it on the podium. He put his hand on it reverently, like a Baptist preacher on a Bible.

‘From this hallowed box...’

‘A bit over the top.’ Hayden whispered to me. I twirled the heart-shaped locket in my pocket anxiously.

‘… will be drawn the three tickets and those tickets will belong to heroes.’

‘He’s really laying it on thick.’

I couldn’t enjoy Hayden’s sarcasm. Last year it was funny to me. This year, after I had had my daughter, Remembrance Day had a new meaning.

Ted lifted the lid of the ornate box and reverently pulled out a ticket, holding it a loft. The crowd went silent.

‘3-2-1-0-1-9.’

I looked around. At first I didn’t see anyone move. Was it no one’s ticket? But then I felt an arm brush past me. My brows furrowed and I looked pitifully at him: Will van Gartner. I’d gone to high school with him. He walked up onto the platform with a brave face and shook Ted’s hand. I could hear the muffled sounds of his wife crying into the hat she’d pulled over her face.

I sighed a quiet, guilty sigh of relief.

‘3-2-1-0-0-7.’

‘Jesus, they haven’t even shuffled the tickets this year. Ted should be fired for being so lazy.’ Hayden hissed.

Sarah and I watched with wide eyes as a woman, somewhere in her sixties took careful steps up the pine platform. The crowd watched silently.

‘Before I call the last number, I want us all to take a moment, to think and be grateful. Look at this beautiful park around us, so full of life, every day we have is a blessing and a miracle.’ He took a deep breath of the crisp air and smiled. ‘Now...’

I thought my hands might shatter they were clenched so tightly.

‘…3-2-1-0-0-6.’

I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. No. It wasn’t possible. I could feel Sarah and Hayden’s eyes on me. Pity and relief in one, shock in the other. Hayden lightly touched my arm and whispered my name. My eyes flew past the monument to the lake behind, to the graveyard beyond – the resting place for the heroes of Remembrance Day.

‘N-n-n-n-no.’ I stuttered out. ‘No. No!’

There was always one person who fought, one person who screamed.

Two sets of hands took hold of me, pulling me towards the stage where Will and the woman stood quietly. I dug my heals into the ground, fighting, thrashing against the two neighbours, spitting hatred as they dragged me away. The crowds parted, no one helping, everyone watching, some sad for me, some disgusted with me. I saw Mrs. Haskins sign the cross as her husband, who’d taken me to soccer as a kid, looked on.

‘I don’t want to die!’

But I was thrust onto the stage, put in line with the others. I looked out over the crowd. They’d all taken their hats off, all bowed their heads in thanks.

‘Look at me.’ I said. ‘Look at me!’

But no one did. There was no world where they would look now.

‘Come on dear, have a little composure.’ Ted said in a sympathetic tone as he turned his horrid little machine on.

‘The locket.’ I heard someone say. ‘Give me the locket.’

I looked down, Hayden was at the edge of the platform. She held out her hand.

‘I’ll give it to your daughter.’ Her eyes filled with tears.

I could see in the distance where the children played, where my little Amy played with the over-priced sitter.

My hands shaking, I took the heart shape locket from my pocket. I held it up a moment, looking at it as it turned in the sunlight, the silver shinning and little imperfections made plain. Had my mother done the same? I knelt down and put it in Hayden’s hand.

‘Tell her I loved her with my whole heart.’

‘I will.’

She melted back into the crowd of bowed heads. No one would look up now, not until it was over.

‘If everyone could follow me in singing the Remembrance Day hymn.’ Ted ordered.

‘Oh brilliant is the sun,’

The crowd began to crone.

My heart pumped as I heard the rope that tied the canvas around the monument pulled, revealing the stone where my name would be etched.

‘Oh sweet is the water pure,’

The canvas slid, tumbled down over top of us, hiding the ghastly site to come.

‘Oh fresh are the sweet fruit,’

I heard the whirl of the little gun and its laser “bullets” in Ted’s hand.

‘Given to us through great sacrifice.’

I heard footsteps walking towards us.

‘Thank you for the lives given,’

Then the high pitched whistle of the first shot – the woman dead. A second whistle – Will was dead.

‘By the lives given up today.’

I heard the gun whistle for me.

‘Thanks from all to all those

who die on Remembrance Day.’