My Country Tis of Thee

Luke began to mumble, "It's been sitting in the window of the shop for a couple of years. I restored it awhile back, working on it when I got the chance. I just could never bring myself to sell her though. When I learned from Mike about your family, I knew why I'd been keeping it all this time."

"You can sell it to pay for the girls' college," the bear shrugged his shoulders. "Or whatever you want." Stepping back, he motioned to the others in the group, "We just wanted to say thank you to your family in a way that honored what your son did for this country."

Senor Hernandez's eyes were filled with tears as he took the keys, "Muchas gracias."

Mike thought at that moment that nothing could get any better until he saw the black sedan with official government plates pull up. Senora Gomez smiled broadly as she stepped from the car. At first Mike thought that in their generosity the Hernandez's had invited the woman to the party as well. Then he saw the large manila envelope in her hand. His heart stuttered in his chest. He fought back hope.

The woman stopped at the gathering and spoke a few words of Spanish to the Hernandez's before turning to Mike.

"I have something for you, Sergeant." With a huge smile, she continued, "Someone out there must have your back, because I have never seen these things move this quickly. But the moment it came through I knew I had to get these to you." Nodding towards the Hernandez's she added, "I'll leave the rest to you then. Have a nice evening." She said as she turned to go.

Mike stood frozen for a moment. He still could not believe that he held them in his hands. For the past weeks since Manny's death, he had thought of nothing but this moment. Now he did not know what to say or do.

Doubt niggled at his mind. Perhaps he had misunderstood the woman. Perhaps this was just another worthless proclamation from the Congresswoman. He had to be sure. He opened the envelope and began to read the certificate. His heart stuttered. It stopped for a couple of beats. Then it began to pound so quickly and rapidly in his chest that he could not hear a word of what was said around him.

Luke brought him back to reality with a slap on his back. "Not a bad night, my friend."

Mike smiled. "No. And it's about to get better," he said as he followed the crowd back into the hall.

Finding Senor and Senora Hernandez talking with Mama Nona, Tia Manny and Rachel by the buffet. The man extended his trembling hand.

"Sergeant Mike, I can't thank you enough. When we heard," the man's voice cracked. "When we found out that Manny was dead, we felt..." He trailed off once more as if words could not describe their feelings. Mike knew they could not so he stopped him.

"Senor Hernandez, there is one more thing. Could you gather everyone together? I have something for you."

"Something more? There could not be anything more than this. We have Raquéela and Miguelito back. We have new friends. And their gift means we do not have to worry about money for college." The man smiled, "There can't be anything more than this."

Mike shook his head. For a moment, he wondered. Was this gift really as important to this family as he had thought it would be? He knew how much this meant to Manny. But the man was right. Perhaps in the grand scheme of things a piece of paper did not matter that much.

He shrugged and passed the envelop to Senor Hernandez. "This is for Manny," he said and turned to leave. He had barely taken a step before he heard a squeal from Senora Hernandez. He felt the hand on his shoulder stopping him.

He turned around to see tears once more flowing freely down the weathered brown cheeks of the man, who had risked everything he had to bring his family to this country. The land of the free, who boasted "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Yet that country was slow to recognize the sacrifices of this family. Of Corporal Manuel Hernandez. Of its Latino soldiers, who gave their labors and lives for their adopted homeland asking for very little in return...and sometimes receiving even less. But not this night.

"Please, Sergeant Mike. Uno momento por favor," said the man. His voice rang out loud in the hall as he spoke in Spanish to the crowd. Finishing up, he said "Sergeant Mike has something to say."

Mike was speechless in that moment. What did you say? He closed his eyes for a moment. The laughing face of the young man sprang to his mind.

"I could say again what a fine young man Manny was. Or I could tell you that I have rarely served with a finer soldier. But that does not mean anything to you folks. Looking around me, I think you know that Manny loved you all. He spoke so often of his familia and amigos back home."

"But what I can say is that one thing Manny loved almost as much as you was the country that he grew up in. Well, today that country has recognized Manuel Jesus Hector Hernandez as its own." Lifting his hand to his forehead and looking up, Mike smiled, "Here's to you, mi amigo."

The applause that followed was not for his paltry words or the piece of paper that Senor Hernandez passed around the room, but for the young man that earned those words, that paper and deserved so much more than he had lived to realize.

Mike slipped outside and pulled his traveling clothes from the compartment on Esther's side. He snuck quietly into the bathroom and changed into the jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket. The man that stared back at him in the mirror this time was unrecognizable. Except for the ultra-short salt-and-pepper hair, he could be any man on the streets and roads of this country. And that's what he was...anybody. And nobody.

Master Sergeant Michael Thomas O'Malley was no more. Before him stood simply Mike. And he was not sure who or what that man was. But he supposed that the months and years on the road ahead would tell his metal just as the past twenty had crafted the Marine he had become. It was time now. Time to hit the road. Time to begin this journey he had set for himself.

It was appropriate that it should begin where that other journey had. Billy Hall. Corporal William Clyde Hall had been Mike's best friend. Until that bullet had ripped through his chest. In a time when Kevlar was not even thought of. He shook his head at the waste. He had seen so much of it over his life time.

This first stop was the least he could do for his friend. Mister Clyde, Billy's father was in the end stages of Alzheimer's. He might not remember Mike or even the son that he had lost, but Mike remembered him and his wife, who had welcomed the orphan into their home during holidays and leaves. Who had treated him like another son. Who had even insisted after they lost Billy that they would not lose him too.

No, he would make this trip as quickly as Esther could carry him...and with honor he would fulfill the duty of a son. Holding the old man's hand as he greeted whatever was beyond this life. For once, it would not be a young man, a life barely begun that Mike watched slip away. But it would be an ending nonetheless. Another farewell to Billy...this last link to the man that was once his best friend.