Alec

by William di Canzio

When relief came at last, it was unwelcome. In February 1917, Private Scudder was granted five days’ leave to attend his father’s funeral. As mother and son followed the coffin from their cottage to St. Osmund’s church, Alec’s heart lurched between grief and rage. “Da! Couldn’t you’ve waited?” he thought. “Just till after the war? There’s too much dyin’! With me gone and Fred too, how will Ma endure?” Aderyn leaned heavily against him as they walked arm in arm along barren lanes. She was getting old and before long would likely need care. Fred arrived from Argentina on the last day of Alec’s leave. Even though their time together was short, the brothers found an hour to bicker behind the closed door of their old bedroom. Fred blamed Alec: “If you’d sailed with me as you’d promised, instead of chasin’ after your grand Mr. Hall, you’d be livin’ safe overseas, likely married and settled. Ma and Da would have followed you and we could all take care of her now.” “Great prognosticator, ain’t you, Freddy?” “It’s true! Didn’t she tell me as much? They’d have followed me and Jane but for you stayin’ here. And once you’d enlisted, that was that. On no, they wouldn’t leave you behind. It was frettin’ for you that hastened his death, and seein’ how she fretted too.” “Did I ask for this fuckin’ war? What do you think I’m fightin’ for? I’ll tell you what for: it’s so’s you insurance purveyors can enjoy your easy life in the colonies.” “One’s got nothin’ to do with the other.” “You’re bl...