We Regret to Inform You...


Jack, the hero and stand-in telegram boy. Age: eleven. Year: 1918.


Jack's dad.


How part of Jack's world looks.




“Jack,” dad began slowly.
“You’ve been drafted,” I blurted out before he could continue.
His eyes were so sad, but he nodded. “Yes. I’m shipping out next week to France.”
My throat felt all choked up, and I couldn’t think of what to say. My eyes wanted to cry, but I kept my face as calm as possible. Be a soldier. “I.... you’ll be fighting for our country, dad. I’m proud of you.” That was all I could think of to say, and I wasn't very sure I meant it.
Dad looked at me closely. “My boss will need  someone to take my job while I'm gone. What do you think?”
For a second, panic and revulsion flooded me. Take dad’s job? Take the job I hated, the job that caused so much sorrow to my best friend? For a moment I felt like refusing. Then I set my jaw. “I’ll do it, dad. Until you get home.” Please come home. Oh please come home. ~We Regret to Inform You...

3 comments:

Jessie said...

Imagine if you has to deliver a telegram to his mother about his father! So sad, or awesome. Depends on the news.

I read the last part you posted (The Continuing Part). I'll have to read the rest of the story!

Jessie said...

Oh, and it's funny that you chose Opie, because that's kind of who I was picturing as I read that part lol

Molly said...

Jessie: Yes, that could be either awful or wonderful. I like having Opie as Jack and Andy Griffith as Mr. Skinner so I can get pictures of them together. :D