When Only Weeks Remain

Mom.

... not much time to talk.

Bad stuff has been happening.

I need a sober moment with you.

I thought it would make the news.

It didn’t.

I can’t talk. on the phone.

We’re in a como blackout.

(careful. slow. tears. quiet.)

bad guys.

really bad guys.

we caught ‘em.

pray, momma. pray.

(slow. slow.)

some very young men won’t be going home again.

(my own tears now. eight weeks more. maybe ten.)

pray, momma … not for me. i’m here. i’m safe. i’ll be coming home.

don’t worry.

pray.

and be very glad you don’t have a son coming over here.

it’s hard work these days.

there’s lot of hard work goin’ on.

weeks of work.

and they got one of the bad guys.

intercepted.

mighta taken one of the gates.

coulda been stretchers.

you see things here. nobody should hafta see.

(silence.)

(what do you do with this seeing? this knowing?)

(slow. deliberate.)

what do i do?

i see it.

and then i remember i’m coming home.

all this was here before i came.

it’ll be here when i’m gone.

these are a proud people.

they believe they are doing what is right.

they have better weapons now.

their shooters have better aim.

they believe in God. in his reward.

i am ready to come home.

pray. momma.

technorati tags: war, Iraq, Tommi