The Remnant - Part 4

Read Part 3 Here

The house was silent until the fridge started to hum. The stillness of being alone suddenly bothered her as it never had before.

She considered going after Hans. But to what end? 

She didn’t know him and the her that he knew didn’t exist. 

Even though she had. 

Anne sank to the chair he’d been sitting in and stared at her key. It was still speckled with the dark dirt of the garden. The phone he’d snatched with such ease and precision had been left lying on the table. 

The phone rang.

Anne jumped and watched the screen flash a couple of times. Its second ring had her picking up. 

“Hello?”

“Hi baby girl, how was your shift?” It was her dad on the line. 

Because of course, it was her dad. He always called her when she came home after a night shift. He’d done it since nursing school, always saying that he wanted to make sure she was safe. 

“Dad?” She got it out as a whisper and slowly turned to look at the picture on the side table. In the picture, on her right stood her father. 

“Yeah. You all right?” he asked. 

Wes Hicks @ Unsplash

“I, um,” she cleared her throat. Memories of her father over the past almost 20 years were slowly filling her mind and then sinking below the surface. Ready to be called on. “You remember after you deployed in 2001?” 

“Yeah?” her dad said. 

“And you came home injured.” She remembered visiting him in hospital and being so relieved he was home and alive and so scared to see him hurt that she’d sobbed for hours. 

“Hard thing to forget,” her dad said. 

She heard him moving around. 

“Why are you asking about that?” 

“You promised when I was old enough, you’d tell me what happened,” Anne said. She barely knew the details of how he’d died. Or was supposed to have died. And now it was different. 

Her dad cleared his throat. “There’s now much to tell. My platoon was on a foot patrol and there was an explosion, an IED.” 

“But it only cut you up some,” she said, wondering what he would do if she jumped in the car and drove the 2 hours to her parents’ house just to see him for herself. 

Her dad sighed, “I walked away. I just wish Turner had too.” 

Anne opened and closed her mouth as she tried to form words. “Turner?” 

“Private Hans Turner. He was a good kid. He pushed me out of the way,” her dad paused, “I just wish I’d been able to—I should have seen it and gotten him safe.” 

Anne lowered her head to her hands. “I wish I could thank him,” she said into the phone, imagining the sandy-haired man who'd just walked out of her home and changed her life forever. 

“Me too kid.” 

Anne waited but neither of them had anything else to say. 

“I should jump in the shower,” she said. 

“You do that kid,” her dad answered, "And your mom and I will see you Wednesday for your birthday. You still got Wednesday off?" 

“Yeah,” Anne said, “Love you Dad." 

“Love you too baby girl.” 

The call ended.