A Soldier's Soft Spot

“Wake up! Get up! It’s time to put your feet on the ground.” yelled Alana’s father as his heavy feet took turns walking down the hallway. Five am was his regular routine and one he never, would never, deviate from. But in the last room on the right was Alana on the phone with her best friend, totally wanting to deviate from anything her dad tried to make her do.

“Yeah, you know he does this morning routine crap that he hasn’t forgotten in like over 15 years. I guess the military does that to you.” Alana spoke unenthusiastically as she laid stretched out in her bed, not ready for the day.

“And that’s why I’m catching a five am flight to Miami and not staying the weekend you with...because I don’t want to be treated like I enlisted in the military while I’m at your house.” her friend, Tonya, said in a serious but joking way.

They both laugh, then silence. A second later, her door swings open.

“Alana. If I say it again, you’ll be doing 15 pushups. Now, get up, please. You know the drill.” Kent voiced sternly, followed by an affirmative smile.

“Tonya, I gotta’ go,” Alana complained. Nevertheless, she ended the call and sat up from her bed reluctantly as she side-eyed her father in irritation.

“Ok. I’m up. Happy?” she asked sarcastically.

“Yes, I’m happy,” he replied before he gently kissed her on her forehead and walked out. It was his signature. Underneath his camo uniform, unforgiving routines, and behind all of his medals, tattoos and roughness, was a loving father who loved his daughter even more.

The 55-year-old Kent never showed anyone his soft spot except for Alana. The thought of something not masculine enough for a soldier was one action he preferred to avoid around his superiors and buddies.

As Kent sat at the dining room table writing in his notebook with a perfect posture, Alana appeared from the hallway and made her way to the seat next to him. Kent turned his attention to Alana.

“Ready to write, hun?” he asked as he peeked over the top of his glasses.

“Do I have a choice?” Alana asked unhappily.

Kent huffed as he was starting to think all of the hard work he’s been putting in to get Alana to see the beauty in writing may not come true after all.

“Just sit down. One day, you’ll realize how important this was to me and how important it’ll be for you.” Kent explained.

“Dad, look. I just want to open a coffee shop, or maybe even start an online store, but I’m not a writer.” Alana tried to explain to him for the thousandth time.

“Alana. What do I always say every day? Your story will only be as strong as the relationship you have with your notebook.” her dad attempted to convince her once again. There’s nothing better than sharing what’s in your mind with the world. Pages live on to tell stories, the truth, and experiences. Without writers, there’s no history, no movies, no television, no news.

Alana continues to stare at him with a blank and uninterested face. Kent let out a sigh of impatience.

“Any who, I got you a gift,” he revealed.

Alana sat up from the chair she was just slumped in. “Yeah? What is it? Let’s see.” Alana questioned.

Her father pulled a pink notebook from behind his back. A baby pink bow rested on top. Alana could tell he felt so good handing her this notebook she barely wanted, so she faked her enthusiasm.

“Thanks, dad. The bow is really pretty.” Alana stated as she ran her hand across the smooth front cover.

“Anytime, Hunny. I really want you to fill this up with your emotions, experiences, happiness, anger, etc. This will make you appreciate memories. Trust me.” her dad exclaimed with such joy.

Even though she wasn’t interested in what her dad desperately wanted for her, she truly appreciated all of the efforts her dad gave. As Alana gave the notebook pages a quick skim, she noticed a name on the back that said “Moleskine.” She studied the name for a moment, and then her eyes widened as it dawned on her.

“Wow, dad. So I guess it’s safe to say Moleskine is your favorite brand because I’ve never seen you with another notebook except for this brand. I never paid attention to that until now,” Alana shared. Her father smiled.

As their day continued to go by, Kent resumed his numerous tasks as usual while Alana stayed in her room on her phone most of the day. Time was flying by, and the next thing Alana knew, the sun was rising, and her clock displayed 7:15 am. Alana laid there and stared at the clock for a moment until her body caught up with her brain. She jumped up.

“I wonder where dad is at. He’s never let me sleep this late,” Alana voiced to herself.

Her soft feet traveled the hardwood floors until she made it to her father’s bedroom. She pushed the door open just like she used to do when she was two years old and never worried about invading him and her mother’s privacy.

“Dad, are you sick? You didn’t wake me up this morning?” Alana inquired as she bounced down at the end of his bed. For surely, he must have still been resting.

“Dad, wake up. Get up. It’s time for your feet to hit the ground, as you always tell me.” She teased while she tickled the bottom of his feet. Her father was shot on a few occasions while in Iraq and barely blinked, but he could never hide his contagious laugh.

As Alana stood to realize the worst, she gave his shoulder a slight push; she instantly recognized the worst. As she calmly but hesitantly reached to check his pulse, it was nowhere to be found. No amount of life exuded from his body.

ONE WEEK LATER

“Hi, Miss Koobeton. Come on in and have a seat,” Kent’s lawyer, Miranda, welcomingly stated.

“Hi, and you can just call me Alana.” Alana offered.

“Ok, I will. Thank you.” Miranda accepted.

They all take a seat as Miranda begins going through papers. Suddenly a man walks in with a box. He sits the box down on the shiny waxed floor and quietly disappears.

“Do you know how long this is going to take?” Alana asked anxiously.

“Oh. Not long at all.” The lawyer confirmed. “So, Alana, with your father’s passing, there were a few things he wanted me to tell you and give you. Please be aware that his brain aneurysm came out of nowhere and happens to 2 to 3% of people, with many patients very commonly not showing any symptoms. His autopsy has confirmed this.” Miranda finished.

Alana sat there in disbelief with no words to breathe.

“May I continue?” the lawyer asked.

Alana only gave a mournful nod.

“Secondly, the box sitting next to you is filled with exactly 11 Moleskine brand notebooks your father accumulated over the years. In them, you’ll find stories of how proud he was when you were born, his time and battles in the military, and the passing of your late mother.” Miranda continued. She paused for a moment to see if Alana would have any response at this point. As she realized this would be a pretty quiet execution of Mr. Kent’s wishes and will, Miranda then reached into her drawer and pulled out a little black notebook. She extended her reach towards Alana.

She accepted the book with a slow capture.

“This little black notebook is deemed as the special one according to your father. It has all of the stories he wants you to create one day. Ones he wrote the ideas down for but never got a chance to start. He thought of these while he was on duty in Iraq.” Miranda shared. “From the few conversations I’ve had with your father and the precise structure of his will, I can tell he was a very organized man,” Miranda concluded.

“He was,” Alana quietly confirmed.

Alana was still speechless but began glancing through the little black notebook as her eyes skimmed some of the stories.

“If I may, there’s one last thing,” Miranda shared.

In an instant, a $20,000 check sat in front of Alana, waiting to be signed and cashed.

“Your father wrote and signed this check for you some time ago. I was told to date it for 30 days after I gave it to you. However, you should know that there are some strings attached.

Alana’s eyebrows raised.

“You have 30 days to pick a story from his notebook and turn it into a full-length novel or feature film. It must be returned to me by the end of the 30 days, or, unfortunately, the check will be null and void,” Miranda completed.

Alana sat without a word.