“Will it ever go away, dad?” the son asked, pleadingly, of his father.
Trevor lifted his wet eyes to look at his father who didn’t answer right away. The older man sighed, hating to be the bearer of bad news.
“No.” Trevor drew in a shaky breath. His voice grew in pitch as the next questions came tumbling out.
“How do you live with it? With what you did?” He paused. “What we did?” The father shook his head.
“You learn to deal with it. Cope. You had your orders and were trained on how to carry them out. You did nothing wrong.”
“I know that,” Trevor intoned. “But how do you forget their faces?” His father leaned close, conspiratorially.
“Stand in the rain.” His father shrugged as Trevor only stared.
“It makes me feel I’m being washed clean. As if I’m being forgiven by God for the things I’ve had to do.” Thunder began to roll outside as if on cue.
The young man grabbed his father in an embrace.
When the rain began to fall, the son took his father’s hand and lead him out into the wetness.