The Call

Madness. It's all I've seen since we landed. The chaotic dance of war has started to etch itself into my mind. I try to focus on one step at a time. We push forward.

Dear Sarah, June 7th, 1944

I hope this letter finds you well. We landed behind the lines yesterday. We were told to push through and secure a couple of roads near the cities of Caen and Bayeux. I'm sure glad mom made us learn French when we were kids, it's sure is helping with the locals. One dame up and kissed me while we were making our way to Caen. She even knew a little English. I sure hope our side is cooking with gas out on the beaches. I could hear them where we are. I got a good pal Danny who was sent on the first wave. You would like him, he acts like cousin Vic and plays harmonica like uncle Joe. Tell mom and pop that I'm holding up alright. The stories from uncle Carmile are very true. I can't wait to get home and tell everyone some new stories.

Love,

Mick

The sudden screams then dark silence is like a plague in my head. I can see them all in suspended animation, in the ocean, I'm surrounded by them. I can see one move.

Dear Sarah, July 4th, 1944

I wish I could be there with the family as you celebrate today. I sure do miss the food. I rejoined my outfit and we are about to head into Paris. Can you imagine that? A Brooklyn kid in Paris? I hope it is like those books you read. Danny is with me. He made it through Omaha. He took one to the leg, but the doc said it was nothing to worry about. Danny and another pal Sam are in cahoots to get us booze tonight from a family we have been looking after for a week. They have an insider in the resistance that feeds us intel. I can't wait to tell you all about it when we win this war and we ship home. I know they tell you that it is difficult to get letters from home here, but I finally was able to get a handful last week. Am I writing home too much? I figured if I kept on writing then you guys wouldn't have to worry so much about me here. Danny and Sam says thanks kid for the postcards from home. Them being country boys, they said they can’t wait to visit Brooklyn and New York. I figured I would show them that sandwich shop I used to take you and Janet across from the bridge. I miss you all.

Love,

Mick

I’m alone in the middle of the ocean, treading water in a calm sea. I see a Navy ship out in the horizon. My mind flickers heavily. I’m on the deck of the ship, then back in the water. I don’t feel anything. Now I feel tentacles around my ankles. A giant eye is below me. The water thickens into a muck of red liquid and mucus. I’m standing on the countless bodies of war. They don’t move, but the ocean currents make them sway. Is this madness?

Dear Sarah, August 12th, 1944

I wanted to write before we made our way into the heart of the city. Danny and Sam think that this will be easier than Omaha. We are in smaller groups now and Danny and Sam are with me. So I’ll make sure to keep an eye on them. We are camped outside a farmhouse. The countryside is very beautiful. I wouldn’t mind coming back here when all this fighting is over. We took over a small Nazi occupied town. The people here are very excited to see us. Some little kid gave us fresh milk and bread from the town. He showed us a room where he and his pals have been keeping stuff from dead Nazis. I had to translate for Danny and Sam. He kept calling it his treasure. He gave Danny and Sam gold. He tried to give me gold too, but I saw a book that uncle Carmile would get a kick out of. It looks very old. Like the one he has from Egypt when he went on that expedition ten years ago. The writing looks the same. I can’t read it, it just looks like lines and circles. I won’t keep you. We need to get ready for watch.

Love,

Mick

The ship blinks in and out of existence. It changes as well. Each blip from view, it transforms into incredible sea structures. A hospital ship, a Navy battleship, a large seven sailed vessel with intricate sculptures around it; as it changes, the people around me, floating in death change in tandem. The ship stops, it is too far in the horizon for me to crawl over these lifeless forms to reach it. I’m alone.

Dear Sarah, August 25th, 1944

They are sending me back home soon. Now don’t you worry about why they are sending me back, but they said I should rotate back to the world in a week or two. I can’t wait to see everyone again. Danny and Sam are going home too. We heard that we were winning this battle and pushing the Nazis back. I would be okay with picking up trash for the rest of my life after I get back. I’m getting tired. I will write again real soon.

Love,

Mick

The book. The book is calling to me. I can hear the voice. Or is that my voice? The visions are growing stronger. I don’t want to open the tome but it’s making me do it. I want to violently shake my head and dislodge the thoughts from my mind, but no matter how hard I fight, I’m not strong enough to fend off the thoughts. I must open it.

Sarah, September 2nd, 1944

Have you ever thought about your dreams? What they might mean? I can see things. Danny and Sam don’t understand what I’m saying. But you do, right? It is almost like I can feel the air around me when I sleep. I don’t even know if I am sleeping. The book the kid gave me is special. I now know why he kept it for himself. But why did he want to give it to me? Did he already know? Do you know? Danny asked me how I can now read the book. I told him that I have always known how to read it. The magic inside of it is very powerful. I hear one of them. The elder one. I need to protect this book as if it was scripture. Uncle Carmile must read it too. You all must read it.

Mick

The ship starts again far in the horizon. The bodies lay floating around me. The sea is stiff. I want to stop treading water. I stop moving my legs and arms. My body sinks slowly into the water’s depth. My eyes stay fixed on the steal vessel still far in the distance. My head sinks. Six glowing orbs, two rows of three; open from the darkness and blink in unison. A car sized hand reaches for me. I feel needles in my mind as it communicates with me. I can recognize small pieces of the language that is penetrating my brain, in between the gargled water clogged voice, I feel the link. It lifted me above the water, to the blanket of various degrees of decaying bodies, mixed from centuries of death.

Sister, September 8th, 1944

It’s clear now what I have to do. I am understanding more and more as I read these powerful old pages. There is a great deal that we don’t comprehend about our lives. The universe is filled with horrors that must be unleased onto the earth. I am not worthy to be in its presence. I feel that the mercy she shows me at the water’s deepest is a gift. A gift I must share.

Your Brother

The hospital ship set sail. The waters are calm. The blues and whites from the ocean surface reminded me of Sarah. I hope she receives the book. I made enough hand written copies of the pages for our current trip to pass along to Danny and Sam. They listened to reason and followed me on this path. It is nearing time. The ship appeared in the far horizon, like she said it would. Behind the vessel a grey mist formed blocking any view past it. I looked more intently at the fog and saw the six glowing eyes. Visions started to fill my mind. I transformed myself into its beacon. I read aloud the text from my pages. The screams were a delightful pierce as they all held their hands to their ears. Some didn’t fight urge and leaped into the waters. Others smashed their heads with their own fists. This offering should please her. This isn’t madness. This is our fate and destiny in a universe they are slowly taking back. In a sense, this is our purpose. This isn’t madness.