There But For

He had been gone a long time. He looked different -- deep tan, much thinner. The eyes, though. The eyes. They looked everywhere but at you: the floor, ceiling, speck of dust in some neglected corner. He was angry too, a short fuse with us kids, or at least with me. I was his oldest son, the son of an officer, the one that was supposed to carry on, become a soldier. Only thing was I didn't want to do what you had to do if you put on a uniform. Then if you met the enemy in a thick jungle it was kill or be killed. It wasn't about being afraid, but not wanting to pull the trigger with a man in the sights. Now that meant a hard road for me. I had to learn the paradox that comes with caring for others while not looking to them for answers. I had to break from the set path and venture off into an indifferent land where all I had was a bike and a brain. The bike was a good one. The brain... well it worked for a while. Pickins were slim out there, but at least bullets weren't flying over my head. The way I had to go, though, was obscure, so obscure. I had to learn to embrace the darkness that lay beyond the comfort of the family code, to feel my way forward, alone now, in blindness, fueled in equal parts by necessity and love.