Sacrifice 02.09.15
Note: This chapter is humanized. It also contains character death.
— § —
Kowalski took a shaky breath and stood before the guests seated in rows of fold-up chairs. Suppressed sobs punctured the silence.
“I’ll be honest. When I was first told that Skipper had been killed, I nearly laughed,” he said. The guests’ expressions twisted in a mixture of shock and confusion.
“Not because it was funny, but because I’d always imagined Skipper would intimidate Death himself,” he explained, almost smiling. The guests relaxed and exchanged glances as they realized how right Kowalski was. “Even now, I almost expect Skipper to pop out of his coffin and leave us wondering how he did it.
“When I first met Skipper, I thought he was insane,” Kowalski continued. “The amount of effort he put into his elaborate plans to thwart evil was extraordinary. Sometime down the line, I realized . . . I was wrong. While his mind may have seemed twisted from the outside, he knew exactly how to navigate the inside. And he always came out on top. I’d always thought the key to understanding anyone’s mind would take years of neurological research, but in reciente years of knowing Skipper, I’ve discovered I was wrong about that, too.
“It doesn’t take logic o any sort of scientific studies to understand the mind. All tu have to do is stop thinking and pay attention. There was one thing that always kept Skipper going: love. amor for his brothers in arms, his friends, the people of New York, his country, and the world. He was always willing to give his life for this love. I guess he’s finally paid the ultimate sacrifice.
“You all knew Skipper as the strong, brave, hard-hearted leader. tu knew him as a patriot, protector, and friend. But I knew him as a brother. He seemed strong and Valiente on the outside, but inside, he was petrified. Just stepping out of your apartment each morning was a risk. Anything could happen to any of us at any dado moment, and there would’ve been nothing Skipper o anyone else could’ve done to stop it. That’s what was always on Skipper’s mind, and why he was always so paranoid. It’s why he gave his life for all of us.
“When we went into this mission, Skipper told me that there was an envelope in his parte superior, arriba dresser drawer. I asked him what was in it and why he wanted me to know about it. He replied, ‘You’ll know.’ It wasn’t until I received the message that he’d been killed did I realize what he meant. He’d known he was going to die, yet he went through with the mission anyway to protect us all. This morning, I found that envelope, and I would like to read it to you.”
Kowalski pulled out a piece of paper from his inside breast pocket.
“Dear friends,” he began. “If you’re lectura this, then I’m dead. But I want tu to know that that’s okay.” He choked a little and cleared his throat. “I assure tu all that I’m in a better place now. I’ve never really been one hundred percent sure what happens in the afterlife—well, no one does—but if I am looking down on tu all right now, I don’t want to see tears. If I do, I want tu all to know that I’m slapping all of tu and tu just don’t know it.” Everyone laughed a little. The image of Skipper’s ghost slapping all of them was too believable. Kowalski continued.
“Don’t think of my death as losing a friend. Think of it as a lasting comfort knowing that you’re all safe, and can live on to tell my story. I knew a long time hace that I would die protecting those I care about. However I died, I promise tu I did so peacefully, knowing that my sacrifice would keep tu all safe.” Kowalski swallowed a lump in his throat and blinked back tears. “I don’t want to see sad faces at my funeral. I want to see smiles because we had a great run together. Happy times, sad times, crazy times, tu name it—and I am so honored to have known tu all. Yes, even you, Julien.”
Julien, who was in the front row, sobbed into Maurice’s shoulder, who patted his back.
“If all else fails, remember this: even though I’m not physically there anymore, I’ll always be with tu all, in your hearts and memories. No one can ever take that from you. I amor tu all, and I hope to see tu again in the very distant future. Signed, Skipper.”
Kowalski tucked the letter back into his breast pocket. There was a silence that fell over the guests as they tried to contain their sorrows.
“Skipper’s death was not in vain. We will always remember him for his greatest sacrifice above all else.”
Kowalski returned to Rico and Private’s side as the honor guard pulled the American flag from Skipper’s coffin and held it tautly as a seven man firing squad fired three volleys upon another officer’s command. A bugler sounded Taps. Once they finished, the honor guard ceremonially folded the flag into a tight triangle. Then the honor guard briskly marched to Kowalski and handed him the flag.
“This flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation and the United States Army as a token of appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service,” he said. Then he raised his right hand in salute before turning and marching back to his place.
Kowalski held the flag to his chest with one arm as he, Rico, and Private each knelt down and picked up a handful of soil and held it over Skipper’s coffin. Slowly, they let the soil fall.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” they all dicho simultaneously.
They then watched as Skipper’s coffin slowly receded into the ground. They raised a right hand in salute as they watched the bravest man they’d ever known return to earth in his final resting place.
— § —
Note: Taps is a traditional song played at military funerals. tu can listen to it link. The first minuto is the song, and the rest is a brief history on the origin of Taps if you’re interested.
Also, I had originally exceeded my one thousand word with this installment, and as I was condensing it, I realized how unneeded the word “that” is in many situations.
Note: This chapter is humanized. It also contains character death.
— § —
Kowalski took a shaky breath and stood before the guests seated in rows of fold-up chairs. Suppressed sobs punctured the silence.
“I’ll be honest. When I was first told that Skipper had been killed, I nearly laughed,” he said. The guests’ expressions twisted in a mixture of shock and confusion.
“Not because it was funny, but because I’d always imagined Skipper would intimidate Death himself,” he explained, almost smiling. The guests relaxed and exchanged glances as they realized how right Kowalski was. “Even now, I almost expect Skipper to pop out of his coffin and leave us wondering how he did it.
“When I first met Skipper, I thought he was insane,” Kowalski continued. “The amount of effort he put into his elaborate plans to thwart evil was extraordinary. Sometime down the line, I realized . . . I was wrong. While his mind may have seemed twisted from the outside, he knew exactly how to navigate the inside. And he always came out on top. I’d always thought the key to understanding anyone’s mind would take years of neurological research, but in reciente years of knowing Skipper, I’ve discovered I was wrong about that, too.
“It doesn’t take logic o any sort of scientific studies to understand the mind. All tu have to do is stop thinking and pay attention. There was one thing that always kept Skipper going: love. amor for his brothers in arms, his friends, the people of New York, his country, and the world. He was always willing to give his life for this love. I guess he’s finally paid the ultimate sacrifice.
“You all knew Skipper as the strong, brave, hard-hearted leader. tu knew him as a patriot, protector, and friend. But I knew him as a brother. He seemed strong and Valiente on the outside, but inside, he was petrified. Just stepping out of your apartment each morning was a risk. Anything could happen to any of us at any dado moment, and there would’ve been nothing Skipper o anyone else could’ve done to stop it. That’s what was always on Skipper’s mind, and why he was always so paranoid. It’s why he gave his life for all of us.
“When we went into this mission, Skipper told me that there was an envelope in his parte superior, arriba dresser drawer. I asked him what was in it and why he wanted me to know about it. He replied, ‘You’ll know.’ It wasn’t until I received the message that he’d been killed did I realize what he meant. He’d known he was going to die, yet he went through with the mission anyway to protect us all. This morning, I found that envelope, and I would like to read it to you.”
Kowalski pulled out a piece of paper from his inside breast pocket.
“Dear friends,” he began. “If you’re lectura this, then I’m dead. But I want tu to know that that’s okay.” He choked a little and cleared his throat. “I assure tu all that I’m in a better place now. I’ve never really been one hundred percent sure what happens in the afterlife—well, no one does—but if I am looking down on tu all right now, I don’t want to see tears. If I do, I want tu all to know that I’m slapping all of tu and tu just don’t know it.” Everyone laughed a little. The image of Skipper’s ghost slapping all of them was too believable. Kowalski continued.
“Don’t think of my death as losing a friend. Think of it as a lasting comfort knowing that you’re all safe, and can live on to tell my story. I knew a long time hace that I would die protecting those I care about. However I died, I promise tu I did so peacefully, knowing that my sacrifice would keep tu all safe.” Kowalski swallowed a lump in his throat and blinked back tears. “I don’t want to see sad faces at my funeral. I want to see smiles because we had a great run together. Happy times, sad times, crazy times, tu name it—and I am so honored to have known tu all. Yes, even you, Julien.”
Julien, who was in the front row, sobbed into Maurice’s shoulder, who patted his back.
“If all else fails, remember this: even though I’m not physically there anymore, I’ll always be with tu all, in your hearts and memories. No one can ever take that from you. I amor tu all, and I hope to see tu again in the very distant future. Signed, Skipper.”
Kowalski tucked the letter back into his breast pocket. There was a silence that fell over the guests as they tried to contain their sorrows.
“Skipper’s death was not in vain. We will always remember him for his greatest sacrifice above all else.”
Kowalski returned to Rico and Private’s side as the honor guard pulled the American flag from Skipper’s coffin and held it tautly as a seven man firing squad fired three volleys upon another officer’s command. A bugler sounded Taps. Once they finished, the honor guard ceremonially folded the flag into a tight triangle. Then the honor guard briskly marched to Kowalski and handed him the flag.
“This flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation and the United States Army as a token of appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service,” he said. Then he raised his right hand in salute before turning and marching back to his place.
Kowalski held the flag to his chest with one arm as he, Rico, and Private each knelt down and picked up a handful of soil and held it over Skipper’s coffin. Slowly, they let the soil fall.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” they all dicho simultaneously.
They then watched as Skipper’s coffin slowly receded into the ground. They raised a right hand in salute as they watched the bravest man they’d ever known return to earth in his final resting place.
— § —
Note: Taps is a traditional song played at military funerals. tu can listen to it link. The first minuto is the song, and the rest is a brief history on the origin of Taps if you’re interested.
Also, I had originally exceeded my one thousand word with this installment, and as I was condensing it, I realized how unneeded the word “that” is in many situations.
