Incoming

by Jeff Baker

“Look! Up there!”

The little boy in the sweater pointed up at the green helicopter soaring across the sky. His father leaned against the rake and shielded his eyes from the sun looking upward.

“Yeah, I see it,” Andrew said. “A military helicopter, heading to the air base I bet.”

“Incoming!” the little boy said, waving his arms like helicopter blades.

“Skyler, where’d you hear that?” Andrew asked.

“TV show you watch,” Skyler said, for a moment not looking like he was three. “The one with the tents and the green clothes.”

“Oh yeah,” Andrew said. “MASH.”

Andrew resumed raking as his son ran over with more leaves for the pile.

“You know, your Grandpa Mark worked in a hospital like that, way before I was born.” Andrew said.

“Really?” Skyler said.

“Yeah.” Andrew said. “Over in a place called Vietnam. He’s got some pictures. Of course then he came back here and he and Mom had your two aunts and then me.”

“Really?”Skyler said.

“Yeah.” Andrew said. “I came along later. Right before we…lost your Grandma and before Grandpa met your Grandpa Bill and decided he wanted to marry him.”

Andrew looked up at the sky again. When was the good time to tell a kid about the LGBT spectrum and how difficult it had been at first for the two men. And how gradually they had gained the acceptance of the whole family. Let alone about a fifty-years gone war.

“Well, we will see Grandpa Bill and Grandpa Mark tomorrow for dinner,” Andrew said. “That’s why your Mom and I want the yard all nice and pretty.” He looked at the yard and the leaf pile and grinned, tossing the rake aside.

“But for now…BUNGEEE!” Andrew yelled and with a bounding leap flopped on the big pile of golden and brown leaves. Skyler happily jumped in with him and for a few moments, father and son were happily rolling in the leaves together and laughing.

When they got up and started brushing the leaves off each other Andrew laughed again.

“Let’s get this pile raked back and put in a bag and go inside for some tomato soup,” Andrew said.

“Yaaaaay” Skyler said.

For an instant, Andrew was three years old, with the promise of soup and visits from grandparents.

—end—