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The van pulled up and my assigned corporal helped me get to the front door. He discretely backed off as I pushed the doorbell with my cane. The duffel bag was on the porch nearby.The door opened. She was wearing my super-faded blue dress shirt. Nothing else, apparently. I say apparently, because I couldn't see too much. She didn't have on any shoes and was barefoot, the buttons were mostly undone and I could tell she didn't have on a bra. I couldn't be sure about the panties though, but I made a bet with myself that she wasn't wearing any."Hi, Rob," she was calm, not bouncing around like the videos you see of other wives greeting coming-home soldiers. What did that mean? "I was hoping it was you. One of your buddies in the unit sent me an email saying that you'd be home soon. I've been waiting." Then to the corporal just out of sight. "I can take it from here."She bent over to pick up the duffel and I could see I'd have won my bet about no panties. The corporal didn't get a view,. She was maybe thirteen, carrying the responsibility of a woman. Not an unknown event but rare.“I’m Sheila, and the Tuttles live just that way. Follow me.” Her spirit was bright, a bonfire keeping the forest safe, it seemed.Other than my name, words failed me. I followed, as if a man had told me to.Ahead of our slow pace, crashing brush kept its distance. Sheila dawdled, maybe to respect my condition, but more certain to give the Tuttle children time.Reaching the clearing around a lean-to, a tiny shed of a home, three naked boys fidgeted beside their door, like wooden soldiers rocked by the wind. Caked in dirt and decayed leaves, they brandished crooked teeth. If I had to guess, they were eight, nine, and twelve.“You get to a bath, Ken, John, and Grady.” Sheila scolded them. “This here is God’s other miracle, Mrs-”“Aw, we know t-HAINT, no miracle.” Grady’s voice cracked.“I’ll fetch a switch!”The boys scattered. When Sheila had greeted me, she’d given me no reverence for the miracle.
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