Papa Knows Best

She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face as she sat on her mama's porch. The sound of dogs barking and children laughing, as they swung on her daddy's old tire. This was just one of many things that he left behind. Karen couldn't help but think that the Vietnam War had completely torn her family apart. At the tender age of 12, she had came to the conclusion that nothing seemed to be the same without her father there every morning to cook his famous eggs and toast, only he knew how she liked it. She started thinking of the nights when he was there to tuck her in and make sure no monsters were under the bed. He's the best daddy in the world; she played repeatedly in her head. Right now, he's probably killing those no good Vietnamese. She still recalled the sweet smell of his cologne. Although mama always said it stunk to high heavens, Karen got awoken by that sweet smell every morning, oh such a smell, she wish she still endured with her tiny nose, but instead, it was mama, making her heartfelt, burning breakfast. His picture in the living room started to grow dust, which was probably there way before the draft, she thought. Mama was always lazy when it came to house work, but she got the job done when called for.

Karen watched her sister Rosa play with the other children. She felt a sense of adulthood. Her father always told her that a true woman or man, watches out for their family, and that's what Karen intended to do. She always thought Rosa was a brat, but nonetheless, she loved her. She often wondered if Rosa knew papa was gone. She was sure she acknowledged it, but she didn't seem to worry about it as much as Karen did. Everyday at dinner little Rosa looked up at mama from the table and said, "I betcha papa's comin' home!" Mama always looked at her and smiled, and had the same reply, "Which is why I made his favorite dish." Now, of course this was mama's way of keeping Rosa with high hopes, and plus, papa hated hotdogs. "I never understood why they're called that! So I just don't eat'em, just in case" he'd say.

"KAREN! GET IN HERE!!" she heard mama yell through the house.

"I'm coming mama, don't have a cow." Karen said calmly.

She walked in the living room to see her mama in tears, her hands were shaking, and all she could do was just hold my papa's picture in her arms.

"Mama what's wrong?" Karen asked out of fear.

Mama walked up to her and dropped the picture at her feet, grabbed on to Karen, and wouldn't let go. Karen knew what had happened, her body went numb, and her eyes we're wide open. Karen could feel a slight chill of memories start to leave corrupt her body. She could sort out what had actually happened. Her hero, her father was dead. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was dreaming. All she had been thinking about was him walking through her door, putting his bags down, so she could hug him, and smell that cologne again.

Tears started to form in her eyes, as she hugged her mama tighter. Rosa was in the next room, Karen knew she heard the news, but she couldn't force herself to move. She wanted so bad to see her little sister, to watch out for her, and make sure she was okay, just like her papa would want her too, but no matter how hard she wanted too, her body couldn't budge. Finally, fighting the numbness, she eased herself to the next room to check on Rosa. Little Rosa stood there, looking up at her sister, "Papa isn't coming home is he sissy?" All Karen could do is shake her head, as she sat on the floor to be level with Rosa. She held on to her little hands, she could see tears start to form in her eyes. She believed this broke her heart equally as bad as her father's news. It was all she could do, not to break down, but she knew she had to be strong, for her mama, her sister, for her papa. Everything she ever taught him started to come back in small doses. She didn't know why, but everything that was so small, didn't seem to matter. Karen didn't feel 12 years old at that moment. Come to think of it, Karen didn't know what to feel. All she knew was, in that small moment in time, nothing would ever be the same.