Originally posted on January 2, 2017 by Gordon Savage
When I started working on Antimatter, the follow-on to Teleportal, I realized that since Samantha was going to be the principle character, I needed to know more about her. As I explored her past, I came to realize she was much more complicated than I originally envisioned, so I had her describe some of the key incidents that shaped her life. Below is where she started.
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I’ll never forget that day. It was the week before my sixteenth birthday. I had just gotten home from my afternoon run, and the hot summer sun had already cooked up cumulus clouds that were turning into thunderstorms. I jogged up the front steps of our on-base quarters at Norfolk Naval Station. I raced through the door and shut it as fast as I could to keep the hot air out. “Mom, I’m home.”
My mom, Margaret, came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. A tall redhead, she was wearing a bright red and green sundress for her weekly trip to the commissary. She had a way of appearing beautiful for the simplest of things. She looked me up and down. “You’re really serious about this marathon, aren’t you?”
Before I could answer we both saw movement in front of the house. My father, Rear Admiral Brian Pederson was coming up the front steps followed by two marines in dress uniform. Mom met him at the door. Her pleased expression turned to anxiety when she saw the other men. “Brian, what happened?”
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. He held her for a long time. A chill went through me. What was going on?
My little brother, Nelson, ran in from the living room. He was a late addition to the family, eleven years younger than I. “Daddy. Daddy, why are you home so early?” he chattered.
Father reached down rumpled Nelson’s blond hair. “Stand down, sailor. I have to talk to your mother first.” He didn’t smile when he said it. That didn’t make me feel any better.
I glanced at the two marines standing just inside the door, looking uncomfortable. I saw that one of them was a chaplain. Why marines and why a chaplain? The chill turned to dread as I realized what had upset mom. The military sent a chaplain to notify the family when a member died on active duty. And my brother, Brian, Jr., was in the Marine Corps. “Is Brian d …” I started, but father gave me a look that froze me.
“But…” I started again. I had to know.
“Not with your brother around,” he said quietly. He must have known what I had realized, that Brian had been killed. He had only been deployed for three months.
I couldn’t hold back. Tears filled my eyes, and I ran up the stairs toward my room.
“Why is Samantha crying?” I heard Nelson ask as I slammed my door and threw myself on the bed, sobbing.
Several minutes later mom came into my room. Her eyes were wet, and she was sniffling. She held me while we both cried. She whispered to me between her own sobs, “He was on a humanitarian mission, when someone set off an IED.” She had to stop for a second and clear her throat before she continued, “There was so little … left … of his … body.” She stopped and buried her face in my shoulder. Then she left the room, still crying.
I wept for the better part of a half hour. My pillow was soaked and my throat was sore when the tears finally stopped. Brian—my big brother—was dead. I loved him more than anyone, and he was dead. I understood what had happened, but that didn’t matter. My sorrow began to turn to anger as I thought about it.
Brian had wanted to be a musician. He played a terrific guitar, and he had a great voice, one of the best around. Memories of him playing with his band flooded my head. He could have been a professional. But father had been adamant. Brian had to serve his country first. Then he could do whatever he wanted. I remember watching him slouch away, head hung down after that ultimatum. He didn’t like it, but in our house father’s word was law. Only mom could stand up to him, and this time father had overruled her. The day after graduation Brian went to the recruiting office and signed up for the marines. He told me before he shipped out for basic training that he almost signed up for the army just to pull father’s chain. Almost, but at the last minute he chickened out. He couldn’t defy father that way.
The more I thought about that the angrier I got. It was father’s fault. Brian was dead because of him. My anger festered throughout the rest of the afternoon and into dinner. We were all sitting around the table as if nothing had happened, except that everyone picked at their food in silence. Mom’s eyes were red from crying. Nelson kept looking at everyone. His face showed that he clearly didn’t understand what was going on. Hesitantly he asked, “What happened to Brian, and why is everybody so sad?”
Mom tried to answer, “Your brother had an accident, and now he’s … now …” She stopped, choking back tears.
Father picked up the explanation. “Nelson, Brian was helping some people in Afghanistan. He was delivering medical supplies, when a bomb went off …”
Finally I exploded. Tears filling my eyes, I stood up and flung my napkin down on the table. “For God’s sake! Tell him what happened… Brian is dead! A bomb blew him to little pieces. He’s dead, and we’ll never see him again.”
For a moment father sat in stunned silence. I looked directly at him, still raging. “And it’s your fault! You made him join the marines.” I stormed out of the room before he could say anything else.
A few minutes later I heard a knock on my door. It was father. “Samantha, let’s talk.”
“Go away.” I flopped over face down on the bed and put the pillow over my head.
The door opened, and I could hear father despite the pillow. “Honey … I’m as upset as you are. Can’t we talk?”
I turned my head and peered out from under the pillow. “I don’t want to talk. Just go away.”
I don’t know why, but he backed out of the room and closed the door. I had never seen that expression on his face before.