The Things They’ll Remember

I pulled up to Tay’s Donut Joint. My car dash clock read 6:23 a.m. I slumped out of my car and headed towards the door of the doughnut joint. It was my daily routine of stopping at the joint before my day started. The room was quiet as I walked in. There was a white woman sitting in the far booth, and two black men sitting in a far table on the other side of the joint. There was a server behind the counter. I shuffled towards the counter. Without looking up, I grunted…

“The usual, Dave.”

I picked up a nearby newspaper and scanned the headlines.

“Dave’s not in today, but I’ll get you whatever you need pal!”

Surprised by the voice, I looked up. Instead of a hairy middle aged bald man, whom I was expecting, there was a clean shaven boy in front of me.

“Sorry. I was expecting Dave. I’ll take a coffee.”

The bright eyed young server grabbed a mug from underneath the counter and started to fill it with coffee.

“Say, aren’t you Parker Jones?”

“Yea, what’s it to you?”

“You’ve been my idol since the first grade!”

“Hmph”

“I haven’t seen you in the media in a while! Where have you been?”

“I’ve been laying low, kid, for a reason. Now if you would please hand me my coffee and leave me alone, I would really appreciate it”

I see server’s face fall and his eyes dull. He picked up the coffee mug and slid it over to me.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

The server turned and started towards the back kitchen. I felt guilty. I know I can be hard sometimes, but that’s what war does to you! I decided to give him a chance.

“Wait, kid.”

I see him stop and turn.

“What’s your name?”

“My name’s Tom. Tom Cook.”

“Tom Cook. What can I do for you?”

Tom, the server, shuffled back towards the counter.

“I’ve always heard about you, Mr. Jones. You’re very well known around here. My parents used to tell stories of you all the time! Can you tell me about the war? What happened to you after the war? Where did you go?”

“All the stories? Ha. Yeah, they were the gold old times. The war was very glorifying. I’ve met a lot of my lifelong buddies there.”

“That’s interesting, how was the actual country and environment over there?”

“War was different. War changes people. When you’re over there, the men in your platoon are your brothers. They’re family. You fight for each other, to keep each other alive, and you die for each other. It was you and your brothers versus the world over there.”

I shifted in my stool. I missed my brothers in arms. I even almost miss Vietnam. Even though everything over there, every little animal, person, or even object, tried to kill you in some horrible way, I missed it. I missed feeling like I belonged in a group. The men and women of the military, in Vietnam, were basically a separate society from the society back at home. The army society in Vietnam accepted everyone. No matter your race, gender, or ethnicity, as long as you were wearing the same uniform, they treated you like family.

“Did you keep in touch with any of your platoon mates?”

“No. After the war ended, we all went back to our own separate ways, back to our homes. I went back to my hometown of Macon, Missouri. I’ve been here ever since.”

“What have you done since you’ve been back for all these years? How has it been?”

“It’s been quiet. Over the years, people have forgotten about the war and about me. Some young kids today don’t even know about me or even about the war. It’s been very peaceful.”

Truth be told, I was partly lying. Yeah, its true that people have forgotten. But, it hasn’t been peaceful. Not a single bit. I haven’t been able to sleep at night. Walking out to grab mail is hard. I always get stares whenever I go to fill up on gas. Everything is so different. Society here is so different. Society here look at outsiders with a look of disgust. If you are different, in any way, they treat you differently. They avoid you. It’s dehumanizing. What did I fight for? Why did I come back?

“I’m glad to hear it! You know, I’ve always looked up to you. You were always my hero. Hearing those stories of how you saved your entire platoon, it’s so awesome!”

“I’m glad I could play some type of role in your life. I’m sorry for being so rude earlier. Over the years, I’ve learned to shut people out.”

Ever since I’ve been back, I’ve seen how backwards society here still is. The segregation is still very prominent. Society appears to be a melting pot, mixing different ethnicities and people with differences, but there are still spots that haven’t mixed well. In some parts, there is even a clear line dividing them.

“Say, Tom. Have you ever looked at society’s flaws before?”

“What do you mean?”

“The differences with everyone. The inability for people to accept others for their difference. The segregation.”

“Hmm. Growing up, I never really thought about it thoroughly before. Didn’t we go through the reformations? Didn’t society fix the segregation problem already?”

“We tried, yes, and the majority of society agrees that our differences with each other are unique and significant in defining our culture and who we are. However, there is still a large group of people who don’t see it that way. They will never understand it.”

“Wow, I haven’t really thought of things this deep before. I hadn’t realized.”

“Tom, sometimes you need to be in the other shoes to figure out when something immoral is happening to you.”

Here Tom was. He was the typical college student, working a side part time job to pay for it. He was white. Part of the majority here in Macon, Missouri. Who could blame him for not realizing what was going on? Who could blame him for the problems of our society? When I got back from the Vietnam, I saw everything wrong with society back at home. How segregated and hateful it was. It is so much different from Vietnam and the people there. I finished my coffee and stood up.

“It’s been a good talk. I’m glad we had it”

Tom looked up at me.

“I’m sorry I never saw the problems with society. It sucks that you had to come back to this.”

“It’s not your fault Tom. You shouldn’t have to apologize. This was not your doing. The only thing that you could do now is to help fix it. It is up to your generation to right all of my generation’s wrongs.”

I turned around towards the door.

“You’re a good kid, Tom. I think if you help more people see, you’ll make a very large impact on society.”

As I walked out, Tom starts to wipe down the counter.

I wrote a short story that was inspired by an interview I did with my friend, who struggled with fitting in due to his religion and race/ethnicity. The interview with my friend took place at the UMKC campus in 2019. My short story took place in the small town of Macon, Missouri in the 1970s. He was Catholic and Vietnamese. The two differences work against each other and really create a harsh environment for him to grow up in. In the interview, my friend talked about how people can’t accept him for being different. Another main point that he really emphasized was that this was a problem that was caused by the older generation. I connected this to my short story. I wrote about a war hero who sees the flaws of society after coming back from war, and he conveys the flaws to a young generation college student. The war hero blames society for not being able to accept people with differences, when it was so easily accepted in the society overseas. The war hero also tells the young generation kid that it’s really up to his generation to fix the flaws of the older generation. The segregation and harsh environment of both the interview and the short story could be connected to The Butcher’s Tale. In The Butcher’s Tale, people were extremely separated. The majority group of the Christians were unable to accept the minority group of the Jews, leading to violence and problems. However, once they put that aside, they were able to fix their problems. I think that this could be the same with society. Once we all figure out how to get along with each other and accept each other, we will be able to move into the future together.