Good Son, Wrong Country

In the cold winter air, it stung his cheeks, contrasting with the chug of whiskey that burned his throat; Ethan continued to drink from a flask in the open air of the courtyard where he stood alone. The whole city had gathered around the municipal center on this day, and on this day, Ethan wanted to distance himself as far as possible. But it didn’t matter, and he could still hear the roar of the people as they cheered through the rally to commemorate such a momentous occasion.

Near the military barracks, Ethan meandered outside, basking in the occasional windswept snowfall. His white uniform was rightly proper, but his hair was far from regulation, messy and unkempt, and his shadow was starting to go beyond five o’clock. Not that it mattered much anyway; despite the formal rank of lieutenant, his status and reputation went beyond what was pinned to his sleeves. He had a little leeway in what he could look like.

“Hey! Wait for me!” a young soldier had called out across the courtyard; her fellow cadets were already ahead of her, scuttling along toward the rally.

“Well, then hurry up; we’re missing all the fun!” they replied to their friend, half in to wait up and half out to get going as soon as possible.

The three of them began to pick up their pace when the straggler looked over to see the lone Ethan standing some yards away. Slowing down, she made a detour and ran over to him.

Upon approach, she nervously held her breath and snapped into a salute. “Good evening, sir! Permission to engage, sir!”

Ethan gave a salute back. “Permission granted. At ease, cadet.”

The young cadet relaxed and took a few breaths. She couldn’t believe it, the very hero Ethan Jones right here in the flesh. The cadet just stared at Ethan as though he was Jesus; transfixed awe shone from her bright eyes full of potential.

It disturbed him.

“Well?” Ethan stared back. “What can I help you with?” He had barely tucked away the flask in time, awkwardly securing it in his left breast pocket.

“Oh, umm, right.” The cadet blushed a little. “I saw you from across the courtyard, and I wanted to say it’s an honor, sir.” She nervously meandered her words. “The work you did… I mean, you’re one of the… you’re awesome.”

Ethan smiled back and held out a hand. “Oh, thank you.”

The cadet took it graciously and shook it confidently. “No. I mean, I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t following your example. You’re an inspiration to a lot of people.” Her deep blue eyes were glazed with devotion.

Ethan smiled less. “Yeah, it’s been a lot.” He clutched a hand over his breast, but it wasn’t the flask he was trying to grab.

The cadet looked over at her fellow soldiers, who had stopped to wait for her. Then she turned back to Ethan. “Are you going to the rally and parade? I mean, you’re one of the main guests of honor; it’s practically all for you and your unit.”

“Huh? Oh, umm, yes, yes. I’ll be there soon.” Ethan meekly laughed. “It’s just, you know, the long speeches… bloated fanfare. I’d rather wait until a little bit more fun happens.”

The cadet laughed with him. “No worries, I get it.” Then, looking back at her friends one last time, she snapped back into a salute. “Sir, it’s been an honor.” She then took off for her friends, calling out one last time, “I heard there’s going to be an awesome fireworks show; I hope to see you when the fun begins!”

Ethan kept smiling and waved goodbye, holding this happiness for as long as he could hear the other cadets teasing their friend before they faded into the distance.

He was alone again.

Taking a deep breath, he sighed. His whiskey breath collided with the winter air. He started walking away. There were other stragglers, just like the cadets, all heading for the rally. Each time one or two others stopped him to bound him with heaps of praise, and each time Ethan’s smiling façade did its best. He kept walking toward the city harbor and began to put even more distance between him and the celebration.

He trekked through the snow-covered streets, now at least a mile away from the main event. The roar of the crowd, although faint in the distance, was still loud in his mind.

He walked around the harbor, a mini cultural center for the city’s people, but as the populace left for the city center, it was a ghost town for this one day. Ethan, a ghost of his former self, haunted the paver stones around the area. He kept drinking from his flask; he hadn’t eaten all day, and the liquor was beginning to rush to his blood and play with his feet.

He tried to take one last drink, but alas, he was run dry. Ethan grumbled under his whiskey breath, and he jerked his arm to throw it but caught himself at the last second. He was drunk, but he didn’t want to be belligerent in public, not that anyone was around.

Walking through the harbor district, he could hear a few people in their homes who felt like staying, watching the rally on their TV or listening on the radio.

“And on this day…”
“The personal sacrifices made…”
“The level of heroism it took to stop them…”

All of it was like poison to his ears; with each passing word, Ethan began to tremble and breathe like an animal. Finally, he broke out into a sweat and tried to keep himself from throwing up.

He ran.

He ran away as far as possible from the audio waves and didn’t look back. Eyes halfway closed, stinging with sweat, he didn’t know or care where he was going; all he wanted was peace.

He kept going until he couldn’t anymore, and he came to a crashing halt in another part of the harbor. Slipping on the snow, he landed chest-first at the base of a statue.

It was a memorial.

His face and uniform were dirtied when he slowly rose to his knees. He looked up at the statue. It was of a young woman. She looked powerful, an icon triumphantly standing like a hero. The eyes of the figure were so lifelike.

Ethan just stared. His eyes, a well of anguish, couldn’t shed a tear. No amount of crying could suffice the guilt that rang in his irises. He could hear it all: the screaming, the explosions, the accusations, and the gunshot. He could hear it mixed with the crowd’s cheers, which was all a punishment for him.

He slowly whimpered and begged for it all to stop as the snow on his face began to melt and replace his tears. Finally, he was alone, just his cries, the wind, the sea, and the turmoil in his heart.

But then the sound of boots through the snow came from behind, with a voice that said,

“In memory of a young woman, Rosa Jones, who became this planet’s first true protector and later died due to her service. We honor and remember her sacrifice.”

Ethan, confused at the voice, turned around. The color vanished from his face.

There was a woman. She was dressed in a white cloak, blending in with the snow.

“That’s what it says, right?” She looked over at the statue of the young woman, Rosa. “Is that how you let them spin the story? Taking everything she did against them and turning her into a martyr for their cause? A false symbol to unite the people under them.”

Ethan couldn’t say a word; to him, she was a real ghost of this town, a sight he never wanted to see again. He couldn’t tell if she looked angry, indifferent, or disappointed. She just glared at him.

“Olivia…”

“You know, it’s funny. I was watching you all the way from the military barracks. That young cadet, she said you were her inspiration. How did that feel?” The woman in black approached him and went down on one knee, unfurling a dagger from underneath her cloak and pointing it toward the statue. “You know, she kind of looks like her. Those bright eyes filled with the same potential. Déjà vu… did you experience it too? I saw you clutch your chest, but clearly, you weren’t trying to take a drink, so how badly did it hurt? Was it like a knife twisting in your heart?”

“Oh, you should have seen Rosa. She buried you and herself for all those years growing up, and then ‘poof,’ in her time of need, you miraculously came back, like a guardian angel. But I guess you dug a much deeper grave for her than she did for you.” Olivia pulled off her hood and walked over to the statue. She placed her back against it and slowly slid down until she was sitting on the ground. She spread her legs, resting her hands on her knees, and placed her head in between; she let the knife clatter.

Ethan stood up, trying to compose himself. There was silence between them. “Olivia… how? Why did you come here?” he asked.

“The same reason you did,” she replied, making Ethan cower his head in anxiety. “Don’t you get it? It’s the same reason. Because I don’t have a choice.”

From underneath her cloak, Olivia revealed a portable radio. It was playing the main speech of the rally.

“On this day two years ago, we remember the violent terrorist threatening our peace. Four years after the union of our world, the very devil himself dared to overthrow that peace and understanding…”

“Do you hear that, Ethan? Is that why you betrayed us?” Olivia continued to press further. “You were trying to save the world, weren’t you?”

Ethan kept his head down in shame and shock.

“Your leader, he isn’t wrong. We are the bad guys. We might destroy this peace. But to us, you were the bad guys as well, you know?”

Olivia sighed once more; she was tired and got to the point. “It was a happy moment for us. Finally, the world was at peace; we were all at peace. I had never seen Rosa so content in her life; then you took it away from her; you took her away from us… from him. She died alone, Ethan, your sister. We spent years trying to understand why.”

Ethan answered back sternly and solemnly. “Because… because she was deemed an enemy… of my home… of the Unitary States.” He resigned himself to answer.

“Why was she considered an enemy?”

“Because peace reigned after the war, but we knew that she would oppose how the States worked to maintain that peace.”

“So, what was the overall plan?”

“That we couldn’t co-exist. She… she needed to be removed. But we ensured her memory was kept alive for the people, to become our symbol of peace… to save the world.”

Olivia pondered his words for a bit. “I get it. If it was to save the world from more fighting, then you didn’t have much of a choice.”

Ethan took a moment. “Two years ago, after our civil war and just before I fought… him, he told me, ‘I’ll make you feel pain and agony like you have never felt before. You won’t die until you’ve learned what I have.’ Is that why you’re here? To finish what he started?”

Olivia merely blinked at his question.

“You know, I used to think that everyone in the States was my enemy. But then I crossed those borders. So for the past few years, I’ve been here. I’ve slept under the same roof as them, ate the same food… Ethan, we’re the same. There are bad people here, but there are good people as well. From my land to yours, it’s all the same. But you guys were taught everyone outside of the States was lawless, criminal heathens in need of guidance and order. That we wanted to destroy the world, and you were all trying to save it.” She paused for a moment. “The civil war… Ethan, nothing was the same after that. Those kids, they’ll never be the same.”

Ethan began to shake once more. The ghost of guilt and remorse was a sickening curse to his stomach. It ate away at his heart, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.

“I mean… I still can’t understand why. Why did any of this have to happen the way it did? I can’t blame you. Your parents messed you up. Making their son into a spy against a government, only to have him buckle under the pressure and turn on them. You were like six years old, right? I know the States promised you the world. They gave you a home, people to care about, probably a better experience than your parents could have ever done… but I guess it was all for one little favor down the line. It doesn’t matter how it happened; maybe they happened to be in the right place at the right time… maybe that fire was staged all along… all I know is that I’ll never know when you truly died, but in the end, I know it’s not your fault.” Olivia’s voice trailed into the open sky. The wind started to pick up more.

Ethan dropped to his knees. “No! You’re wrong, Olivia!” He began to cry.

“I had many chances to cut and run away from this life. I let others leave before me, yet I stayed on my mission.” He buried his hands in the snow, clutching at the dirt and stone underneath. “I had… I had known for too long that I still loved my family, but I wanted to repay what I was given. I wanted to live up to the States’ expectations, to be a hero. I wanted their respect.”

He looked up at Olivia with tears in his eyes. “It’s all my fault… my sister… she was going to be happy; she was going to change the world… and I killed her.”

He prostrated himself again, his voice cowering into a whimper. “I should have been like you… but I was too foolish to leave before it all started. I’m sick of it all, of myself; I just want this to end.”

Olivia still held the radio in her hands. The speech was at its height.

“…as we stand here on the precipice of this memorial, we, the government of the Unitary States, proclaim to root out and snuff out the remaining fires of these terrorists…”

“Well, I think we’re the same.” Olivia stood up and walked over to him. She held out a hand; Ethan gazed up and saw it. He took her hand, and she helped him up. “I think we were all born this way.”

Olivia embraced him, wrapped her arms around him, and nuzzled her head into him.

“Sometimes, we can’t help but feel jealousy, anger, rage, and hate. It’s natural, but what it comes down to is how we direct it. I’m sorry you feel this way,” Olivia spoke softly against Ethan’s chest. Amid the cold air, this warmth was a moment of respite from the bitterness of his own heart. Ethan was in shock; it had been so long. He hadn’t felt this warmth in a long time.

But it was fleeting. That warmth began to heat until it started to burn at his side.

Olivia pulled away, her knife dripping with fresh blood.

Ethan doubled over; he crumpled to his knees, clutching at the stab wound, attempting to contain the blood. “Why?” he gasped for air.

“You already said it yourself; he wanted you to learn what he had.” Olivia wiped the knife off and placed it back in her cloak. “Ethan, I’m still not sure if you understand it, but it wasn’t just your sister that you killed years ago. The man your people call The Devil… six years ago, you ripped away the only love he had ever known.”

Ethan looked at her, confused and terrified; his breathing was staggering and erratic.

“It’s been two years since that day he followed through on his hate. I can imagine this whole time you thought you snuffed out the fire, but no… it’s only gotten worse. He’s here; in fact, they’re all here. Every single one of us is out there, somewhere amongst the crowd at the rally.” Olivia pulled her hood back on.

“So now just stay there and watch. Watch and learn how six years of built-up anger and hate are about to burn down your false paradise, and we won’t finish until all of our enemies are destroyed,” Olivia said, looking him dead in the eyes. Pure fear and terror washed over Ethan.

The radio broadcast began to fill with static, and one by one, parts of the city ignited in flames. From this distance, the thud of explosions could be heard going off one after another, blazing a trail toward the center of the rally.

Ethan said nothing, did nothing. He knelt in disbelief. He no longer heard the cheers and clamor of a crowd in his mind. Instead, they were replaced by cries of agony and pain from people burning in the fire of the explosions. He could only watch it grow more prominent and wilder. The pain of his wound paled in comparison; it felt ice-cold. He had a new source of warmth that would last him a good while.

Olivia stood over him, and together they looked at the crimson city horizon. She took a deep breath and sighed. “They look like fireworks, don’t they?”