Free It's You by Jane Porter Page A

sure everyone here remembers where they were when they learned about the attack on Pearl Harbor.” He finally gets his eggs and toast together and he looks up at the others, encouraging them to talk since he’s twenty years younger than many and he enjoys the stories of the war.
    “It happened Saturday,” George says, needing little prompting. “But most of us didn’t find out until Sunday, hearing it on the shortwave radio station broadcasting from Hawaii.”
    Harold nods. “Heard it Sunday morning, too. I was fifteen and had been out delivering newspapers and it’d been a quiet morning. Nobody was out and about. It wasn’t until I returned home that I found out why. Everybody was inside, listening to the radio because hell broke loose.”
    “War,” George says.
    “War,” Floyd echoes. “And I wasn’t delivering papers that morning. I was collecting eggs. That was my job every morningand I came in all pleased that the hens were laying, and I was sure my mother would be happy with the number of eggs, because she sold the extra in town every day, but nobody wanted to hear about the eggs.”
    “Not that you could hear the radio well,” he adds after a moment. “Damn static-y. I couldn’t really hear what was going on and when I asked what the fuss was, Ma told me to hush because the Japanese had just bombed Pearl Harbor.”
    Graham adds milk to his coffee, spoon clinking loudly against the cup. “After that broadcast, my dad went out and bought a rifle and a map of the Sierra Nevadas, just in case we needed to head up to the mountains.”
    “We did, too. Stocked up on supplies and ammunition.”
    “But why?” I ask, unable to stay silent.
    All heads turn in my direction, expressions incredulous.
    “In case the Japanese landed,” Graham answers. “If the Japanese were going to bomb Pearl Harbor, what was to stop them from coming here?”
    “That’s what folks were saying.” Floyd shakes his head. “So I went and enlisted. I had to protect my family. My mother cried her eyes out, but it was the right thing to do.”
    I look at the lined faces of the men seated around me. “Did everyone really think the Japanese would land on the West Coast?”
    “Oh yes.” Graham’s jaw is set. “Folks were told to have evacuation plans. They should be prepared to leave everything and head to the mountains.”
    For a moment there is just silence and I try to imagine what it’d feel like, thinking that enemies were about to attack any moment. Fearing you’d have an invasion on your own soil. I’ve never lived through a world war, but I do remember the terror following September 11, 2001. No one saw that coming and yet everyone was so very afraid.
    Angered, and afraid.
    I was just starting my junior year of high school and was about to turn seventeen. So many of the seniors who’d graduated in June rushed to enlist then, too.
    “Seems like a long time ago,” George says now.
    “The whole thing was bad business, start to finish. The Axis powers were insane.”
    “Power-hungry bastards.”
    While they continue their conversation, I’m remembering the horrific September morning when Mom shouted for me to come. She’d just received a call from another teacher and she’d turned on the TV at home. Standing next to her, I watched the second plane crash into the second tower.
    I watched as the towers fell.
    It was one of the worst days of my life.
    Until Andrew.
    I’m suddenly nauseous and I reach for my ice water, sipping it, trying to shake away all memories. I force myself to focus on the moment, this dining room, and the people gathered here.
    I’ve begun to recognize faces and families. There are the regulars and then the special guests. Across the dining room I spot Edie and Ruth, lunching together, but they’re not alone today. There’s a man sitting with them, a tall man. Not old from the size of his back and the width of his shoulders. He has dark blond hair that could use a cut.
    I look from him to