Within The Ashes Chapter One

    When John first got his draft card we burned the edges with his cigarette. We didn't burn the whole thing, afraid it would get John arrested, or worse. So we stayed tucked away in our little apartment; the smell of ash filling the air. A small part of me wished burning the whole card meant John would get out of the draft, out of the war, out of the chaos our life was in. John and I knew that wouldn't be the case. John and I had been best friends since we were children, our mothers having grown up together. Now John and I were sharing a small apartment close to the college I attended and the garage John spent most of his time in. We lived a simple, day by day life before the draft began. I went to class, worked at my job as a clerk a few blocks down the street and taught John when I could. John worked at a garage, enjoying anything that let him work with his hands. John was the toughest man I knew, but Vietnam wasn't for John. He was tough, but he was also gentle, no matter who he was dealing with. I was afraid Vietnam would break him, not only physically but mentally as well. I had heard stories of men coming back from war with lost limbs and crumbling minds.

    John tossed the singed card onto the table after blowing on it, putting the still lit cigarette in his mouth.

    "Those are bad for you, y'know." I said as he flicked the cigarette, ashes falling to the floor.

    "Aaron, I might be going to a country where I could be killed at any moment; I think I have bigger problems than how bad my cigarettes are for me."

    I ran a hand through my hair, knowing John was right. "Just promise you'll quit when you get back."

    He scoffed, "Ar, I may not come back."

    I looked away from him, my blood going cold. "Don't say that John! You may not even get drafted!"

    John's face softened, "I'm sorry, Ar. It's just that I'm trying to prepare myself for the possibility. Just like you and Kathryn must prepare yourselves."

    "Speaking of Kathryn, you better get ready... " I sighed. It was Thursday, Which meant Kathryn was taking John to another protest.

    "I know, I know. I can stay home if you'd like though. You don't look all that well."

    “No, you go. You already cancelled on her last week. Rumors could start swirling by the second.”I cringed, remembering stories of men arriving at the hospital beaten black and blue. John wasn’t gay, but I did not want to become one of those men.

    He rolled his eyes, “You and me, queer? I doubt anyone would ever think that. Besides, Kathryn would stop them in their tracks.”

    I nodded, even though I didn’t believe him one bit. One of my biggest fears is that someone would mistake John and I for a couple, and I would be labeled with a Psychological Disorder.

    “Besides, I hate going to those protests; they obviously don’t accomplish a damn thing.” He said, glancing at the card for a moment. “Or else I wouldn't have my possible death sentence sitting there.”

    “Are you going to tell her you’re getting worried about that?” I asked, “Because if you plan to, you need to soon.”

    “Not tonight. I still have a little time, Ar.”

    “Fine, don’t go, but I have to study tonight.” I gave him an annoyed look, then a small smile to show I was teasing.

    “Alright Professor, I call Kath and cook something for dinner.” He grinned as I wandered down the hallway into my room.

    I shut the door behind me gently, despite my urge to slam it. I sat on my bed, blinking away tears. Here I was, crying like a child over some stupid card. “Keep it together, Aaron. He may not even go.” I looked in the mirror, a different person staring back at me. My long brown hair appeared dull, my pale green eyes losing their spark. The thought of losing my best friend was like a dull knife, but I could only imagine how Kathryn would take the news.

    Kathryn was John’s steady girlfriend, a sorority girl who John first met when picking me up from class. She didn’t like me much, because she felt as if John cancelled on her because of me. When it was brought up, I would remind her John had other friends and things to do, John cancelling rarely had anything to do with me. She wanted to take him to a protest with her other ‘hippie’ friends, despite his suggestion to do something normal like going to a diner. She and I kept our distance, not exactly enjoying the relationship we had.

    I had been sitting down for god know’s how long and I had just opened my textbook when John knocked on my door, “Ar, dinner’s ready. Can I come in?”

    I tried to level my voice, “S-Sure.”

    He opened the door, shooting me a small smile when he walked in. Leave it to John to try and cheer me up when he could be out and about. I tried to return a smile as he handed me a bowl and sat on my bed. “Soup? It’s only been 10 minutes, how’d you’d get done so quick?”

    He turned my alarm clock my direction, “It’s been about an hour. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

    I nodded slowly, blowing on my spoon.

    “I’m thinking about visiting my mom and Hannah sometime soon. You think you can come with me?”

    I shrugged, afraid to speak, afraid my voice would give me away.

    “Come on, Ar. Every guy in America has a chance of going off to war, it’s not the end of the world.”

    “I don’t, John. And you do. You could…”I mumbled.

    “You’re in college, Ar! You’re smart, you’re in school, you get out of the draft!” John exclaimed, but softened quickly. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just really stressed.”

    I looked up, “It’s fine, John. I’ll see if I can go.” I spooned some soup in my mouth, trying to prove I was alright. John rarely ever yelled, much less at me. The last time I had seen him do so was at his father when we moved out.

    “Do you think you’re really going to remember anything you studied tonight, Ar.” He asked picking up my book.

    “Probably not, I don’t even remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” I admitted, my mind clouded.

    “Then what’s the point in studying? You could get a little extra sleep or we could hang out?” John smirked, his  brown eyes bright.

    “I have to study, and I sleep enough.”I countered, finishing my bowl. I took my book back, the words jumbled together when I looked at it. John was right; there was no point in studying.

    “You are horrible for me.”I teased, closing the textbook.

    John’s smiled widely, “And that’s why you are the exact opposite for me.” He took the bowl from my bedside table as he got up. “Follow me.” He said, taking my hand in his free one.

    He placed the bowls in the kitchen, then led me out to the fire escape. “Let’s just hang out here, I need a smoke anyway.” He reached in his pocket, pulling out  a  pack. “Want one?”He asked, followed by a laugh.

    I shook my head, punching him playfully on the arm. “I’d like to keep my lungs. Besides, you see what the surgeon general says.”

    “Suit yourself. I find it calming.”John said, shrugging as he lit it.

    I looked at the setting sun, the smell of tobacco filling the air. As much as I disliked it by itself, it was a part of John. Tobacco, grease, and a cologne he’d been wearing since he was fifteen.

    I wondered what Vietnam was like, what we didn’t see on our television screen. “Do you think it’ll be all that bad? Vietnam, I mean.”

    “New rule, no talking about Vietnam on the fire escape. It’s a drag.” John said, though I knew he was just masquerading his fears.

    I reached over, not thinking, and grabbed the cigarette from his hand. I inhaled quickly, clenching my eyes shut. I hated it. I coughed and sputtered as John took it from my outstretched hand.

    “What the hell, Aaron?! Are you trying to choke to death?”He shook his head, “Slowly.” He said, showing me how.

    “I’m fine, I’m never doing that again.”I coughed, John rubbing my back.

    He chuckled, ruffling my hair, “You are different. But next time, ask when you want to bum a smoke. Don’t want to be responsible for you accidently killing yourself.”

    “Don’t worry, there won’t be a next time.”I laughed, and suddenly the war was off my mind.

    “Kathryn is pretty pissed off with me for cancelling on her. I told her you were sick, which you looked it. Hence the soup.” John admitted, looking guilty.

    “I could care less how Kathryn feels about you staying home tonight. I could probably care less how she feels most of the time.”I said, realising I was rebelling against most of my rules tonight.

    “Do you have a jealous streak?” John asked, the corner of his mouth pulling  up in a smile.

    “No, she’s Kathryn!” I exclaimed, looking at John like he was insane. Truth be told, that sometimes I was jealous of Kathryn.

    “Whatever, Ar.” He laughed, flicking his cigarette, ashes falling between the grating.

    I sighed, “You should really stop cancelling on her; she may start spreading rumors.” Rumors were the last thing we needed, especially coming from Kathryn. When she aimed, she aimed low.

    John shook his head, “Kath knows I love her, she wouldn’t. Besides, you have other things to worry about than rumors, you have school to worry about.”

    I nodded, leaning back against John. He hugged me, “You know, if they draft me, they’ll have something to worry about.”

    I didn’t reply, the hollow feeling in my chest returning. I dug my hand into my thigh.”

    “Sorry for breaking the rule, it just had to be said. I’m just trying to keep positive.” John said, squeezing my arm.

    “Just stop it, John. You can’t just hide behind your smile! I know you’re scared; but you grin, even if you going like a lamb to the slaughter!” I began to shake, tears spilling from my eyes.

    “Come on, Ar. Calm down.” John murmured, stroking my hair back.

     I sobbed harder, my cries filling the night air.

    “Ar, you know I hate seeing you cry…” John said, getting up and going inside for a moment. He came back a few minutes later with a glass of water. “Here, drink this. Your brain is fried.”

    I took the glass with a shaking hand, whimpering. John draped his jacket around my shoulders, engulfing me in familiar warmth.

    He leant on the railing, the world going silent except for his quiet voice. “The moon is so beautiful out here, Aaron. Look at it.” He whispered.

    I turned, smiling weakly; the moonlight blanketing over John’s features. “Yeah, it is beautiful, isn’t it?”

    He nodded, and I leant back against the bars; and I closed my heavy eyes.

    I awoke, gasping for breath. The only thing I remembered from my dream was the letter that sat on the table.

    Aaron,

    We received John’s remains today. Now this may upset you, but due to some circumstances I am not aware of my father has decided you are not welcome near or at his funeral. John would understand this, and I hope you do as well.

    My Sympathies,

    Hannah Mason.