“We will be burying our hero son on Friday at Arlington. Please do not bring your charity-case children to our family. Scarlett is the only grieving widow that anyone should need to see.”His parents had assisted him in starting again, with the aid of lawyers, taking all of my finances, and treating me as if I were an embarrassment to their family name and dignity. Beatrice had told me on more than one occasion that I was too career-minded to ever become a good wife, and now Garrett was dead, yet they wanted to build him up as a hero.
Logan had pointed at the television when we had seen the news clip about his father being killed; I had turned off the television and had confirmed to Logan that yes, that was his father in the video.
I felt no tear; I felt only an empty shell inside of me. All I could think of at that time was what was in the letter from the military, and most of it was form letters and condolences.
However, I also believed that the military had at least one more report somewhere about the circumstances that had resulted in Garrett’s death and the funeral would not occur as the Cole family expected. On Friday, it had been a bitterly cold and windy day with freezing rain, and I had stood in the very last row at Arlington, with the back of my uniform completely soaked and my children — who were also cold, confused and holding onto my hand very tightly — had been under my umbrella.
While I stood in the last row of the ceremony, I looked towards the front of the canopy and saw that the Cole family had turned their grief into an act. Garrett’s casket had been covered by the flag of the United States.Scarlett cried loudly while in front of the cameras, dressed in an expensive black coat, with a hand gently resting on her pregnant belly.
Beatrice stroked Scarlett’s hair like a proud mother. Behind them was Arthur, addressing the media about his son’s bravery and sacrifice.
I watched without saying anything.
They were using Arlington to make Garrett look good.
Then Beatrice turned to me and saw who I was.
I could tell even from where I was standing that Beatrice was sneering at me.
She leaned in and whispered loudly enough for the wind to carry parts of her words.
“Look at her, still trying to take his legacy. Don’t worry, sweetheart; everyone knows who the real widow is.”
Scarlett looked at me with a smug pity.
I felt no need to respond.
My purpose for being there was not about either of them. My only reason for being there was that my children deserved to see their dad being buried, regardless of his being more like a stranger than a parent.
There was silence after that.
A black government SUV pulled up to the pavilion, and General Raymond Bradley stepped out of the rain.
Four stars, an emotionless face, a folded ceremonial flag in one arm.
He did not appear to be going to a funeral for anyone’s death.
He arrived to finish something.
Every officer in the military there became rigid.
Beatrice looked at Scarlett with excitement, and prompted Scarlett to go up to the general.
Scarlett stood up, wiped her eyes, and went to the general holding her hands tremulously in front of her to take the flag.
“Thank you, General” she said to the cameras, “He died to protect”.
General Bradley continued forward without any sign of stopping.As part of the crowd, I felt appalled watching someone walk in front of me without acknowledging me.
Without warning, I heard Scarlett holler for the General while still up in the air holding nothing in her hands.
The General replied by simply walking past Scarlett.
The General did not wave to the press.
Instead, the General continued walking to me.
Rain was pouring down on the General.
He stared straight at me without even blinking.
The General first looked at my children before finally looking at me.