about.”
“I understand,” said Mrs. Fortini.
Fifteen
Shawn walked into the vestibule of his father’s house, banging away the mud that had gathered on his shoes. He was bone tired. His father must have heard him, because he came to the door before Shawn unlocked it.
“You’re home, son. C’mon in. I put some more coal on the furnace.” The elder Collins was smiling, the all-familiar cigar hanging out of his mouth.
“Thanks, Dad.” Shawn still wasn’t used to his dad greeting him this way, after all the years of hostility. He set his brief bag down and laid his overcoat across the armchair.
Ian turned the radio volume down and retreated to his favorite chair. “You don’t look too happy,” he said. “I take it they’re not letting you out.”
“Nope, they’re not. But I didn’t really expect they would.” Shawn unbuttoned his uniform coat and sat on the couch.
“So what they say?”
“You’re never going to believe it. It hasn’t really sunk in yet. They’re putting me on the craziest assignment you could possibly think of.” Shawn tried to sound optimistic.
“What is it?” His father let go a long puff of the cigar; the familiar smell actually soothed Shawn’s nerves a bit.
“First, this colonel—the one you talked to on the phone— tells me they are promoting me to major, effective immediately.”
“That’s great, Shawn.” Noticing Shawn wasn’t smiling, he added, “That is a good thing, right?”
“That’s only the beginning. He tells me all the guys in my crew have turned in these reports about me, what we did on that last mission, and now they’re recommending me for the Medal of Honor.”
“What?” Ian’s face lit up. “The Medal of Honor?” He leaned forward in his chair. “My gosh, Shawn. That’s . . . that’s wonderful.” Shawn thought he saw tears forming in his eyes. “It’s a good thing too, I’m telling you. After hearing your story the other night, I went to bed thinking . . . they don’t give my son a medal for what I just heard, someone’s gonna hear about it from me. If only your mother could hear this.”
“Right now, it’s just a recommendation. There’s all sorts of procedures and protocols they gotta go through first. But the colonel felt certain it would happen, said the president would probably put it on me himself.”
At that his father shot right up. “The president? FDR?” He paced back and forth across the living room. Shawn had never seen him so excited. “We’ve got to call somebody. This, this is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to a Collins. To think . . . my boy getting the Medal of Honor. The president. The newspapers will wanna hear about this. I’ll call them first thing in the morning.”
“Actually, Dad, it’s already happening. This colonel already sent the story to all the radio stations and newspapers all over town. We’ve probably only got a few days left of peace and quiet before things get a little crazy around here.”
Ian sat down again, on the edge of his seat. “My boy’s going to be famous,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “A war hero, Ida, right here in our house.” He looked back at Shawn, tears now rolling down his cheeks. “We’ve had Collinses in the military since the Civil War, no one has ever done what you’ve done, Shawn.” He stood up, walked over to Shawn, and held out his hand. When Shawn took it, he pulled him to his feet. “I’m so proud of you, boy,” he said and pulled him close.
Shawn had not expected anything like this. It was the first moment he considered that anything he’d heard today could actually be a good thing. After they hugged, his father walked out into the dining room. “This calls for a celebration. I’ve got a nice bottle of whiskey here. Just one shot for the both of us, warm up your insides to boot.”
Shawn sat back on the sofa. “There’s actually more to this story. A pretty big thing actually.”
“I don’t think I can take
“I understand,” said Mrs. Fortini.
Fifteen
Shawn walked into the vestibule of his father’s house, banging away the mud that had gathered on his shoes. He was bone tired. His father must have heard him, because he came to the door before Shawn unlocked it.
“You’re home, son. C’mon in. I put some more coal on the furnace.” The elder Collins was smiling, the all-familiar cigar hanging out of his mouth.
“Thanks, Dad.” Shawn still wasn’t used to his dad greeting him this way, after all the years of hostility. He set his brief bag down and laid his overcoat across the armchair.
Ian turned the radio volume down and retreated to his favorite chair. “You don’t look too happy,” he said. “I take it they’re not letting you out.”
“Nope, they’re not. But I didn’t really expect they would.” Shawn unbuttoned his uniform coat and sat on the couch.
“So what they say?”
“You’re never going to believe it. It hasn’t really sunk in yet. They’re putting me on the craziest assignment you could possibly think of.” Shawn tried to sound optimistic.
“What is it?” His father let go a long puff of the cigar; the familiar smell actually soothed Shawn’s nerves a bit.
“First, this colonel—the one you talked to on the phone— tells me they are promoting me to major, effective immediately.”
“That’s great, Shawn.” Noticing Shawn wasn’t smiling, he added, “That is a good thing, right?”
“That’s only the beginning. He tells me all the guys in my crew have turned in these reports about me, what we did on that last mission, and now they’re recommending me for the Medal of Honor.”
“What?” Ian’s face lit up. “The Medal of Honor?” He leaned forward in his chair. “My gosh, Shawn. That’s . . . that’s wonderful.” Shawn thought he saw tears forming in his eyes. “It’s a good thing too, I’m telling you. After hearing your story the other night, I went to bed thinking . . . they don’t give my son a medal for what I just heard, someone’s gonna hear about it from me. If only your mother could hear this.”
“Right now, it’s just a recommendation. There’s all sorts of procedures and protocols they gotta go through first. But the colonel felt certain it would happen, said the president would probably put it on me himself.”
At that his father shot right up. “The president? FDR?” He paced back and forth across the living room. Shawn had never seen him so excited. “We’ve got to call somebody. This, this is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to a Collins. To think . . . my boy getting the Medal of Honor. The president. The newspapers will wanna hear about this. I’ll call them first thing in the morning.”
“Actually, Dad, it’s already happening. This colonel already sent the story to all the radio stations and newspapers all over town. We’ve probably only got a few days left of peace and quiet before things get a little crazy around here.”
Ian sat down again, on the edge of his seat. “My boy’s going to be famous,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “A war hero, Ida, right here in our house.” He looked back at Shawn, tears now rolling down his cheeks. “We’ve had Collinses in the military since the Civil War, no one has ever done what you’ve done, Shawn.” He stood up, walked over to Shawn, and held out his hand. When Shawn took it, he pulled him to his feet. “I’m so proud of you, boy,” he said and pulled him close.
Shawn had not expected anything like this. It was the first moment he considered that anything he’d heard today could actually be a good thing. After they hugged, his father walked out into the dining room. “This calls for a celebration. I’ve got a nice bottle of whiskey here. Just one shot for the both of us, warm up your insides to boot.”
Shawn sat back on the sofa. “There’s actually more to this story. A pretty big thing actually.”
“I don’t think I can take
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