Trixie breathed a deep sigh as she watched the mailman fill her mailbox. As she heard him drive away, she looked down at her sleeping daughter and assured herself that Nellie Bean was fast asleep.
“At least if I have a letter from Danny, she won’t be awake to see me cry over his words.”
She went outside and down the short driveway to the mailbox. When she opened the lid of the mailbox, she saw several envelopes. She hoped at least one of them was from Daniel, but any of them might also be from her brother Brian or from her cousin Hallie.
As she shuffled through the mail, she saw an envelope with her husband’s distinctive handwriting. She puckered her face in curiosity because she saw many small doodles of stick figures decorating the envelope as if it were an interesting piece of stationary.
Trixie opened the letter and saw that there were not many redaction cutouts in today’s letter; however, the stationary, like the envelope, was decorated with doodles of stick figures. The letter was a simple missive. It told her of his love for both his wife and child. He thanked her for the most recent pictures, expressing regret that he was unable to see so many of the important milestones that had changed so much of Danielle’s life since he last saw her as a small baby, and he teased her for recently coming up with the nickname of Nellie Bean. He asked after all the family, but especially Uncle Bill and Jedidiah Maypenny, with a special request that she look in on both men often. Finally, he made mention of the many memories they had made as teenagers when solving the riddles of the mysteries that she seemed to attract so effortlessly. However, he never made mention of the mysterious code the Bob-Whites found while working on the antique show. That wasn’t so unusual, since he wasn’t even in Sleepyside when they found the code.
But of course, later, all the Bob-Whites memorized the whole code just in case they ever needed to use it again. And now he had decorated the envelope and paper with the code doodles.
As an FBI agent herself, she knew that due to security issues, there was much that Danny was not allowed to tell her. But his doodles intrigued her. She wanted to see if, by chance, he had written a message to her in the doodles decorating the page. Even though she had memorized the code so many years ago, she decided to find her old copy of the code found in the St. Nicholas magazine at the time of the antique show to make sure she decoded any message correctly.
Before Trixie could start working on solving her new puzzle, she received a telephone call from her cousin Hallie. Hallie was a military chaplain, assigned to Picatinny Arsenal in New Jersey.
“Trixie, can I lean on you and vent a minute?”
“Sure, Hallie. What’s up?”
“I was out at a local store today, making arrangements for a food basket for a new widow. I was standing behind two ladies who had full baskets of food, soda, and beer. One of them turned to me and said, ‘The weather is looking really good. Monday ought to be a spectacular Memorial Day. I imagine the parks will be full to over-flowing with picnickers. Looks like you are planning a celebration for a small platoon. I hope you have a happy Memorial Day.'
“Trixie, I wanted so badly to tell that lady that Memorial Day isn’t a day of celebration! It is a day of remembrance of all the men and women who have served this country, sometimes by paying with their very lives. I probably would have told her this, too, if I hadn’t been in uniform.”
Trixie broke in to stop her cousins rant. “Hallie, I understand your sentiment, but it is a day of celebration also.
“One of the most moving Memorial Day Presentations, was the one I attended with Dan shortly after he joined the service. The service was held at 11.00 a.m. During the presentation, the Base Commander explained that on the morning of Memorial Day, the United States flag is raised briskly to the top of the flag pole, and then solemnly lowered to half staff in memory of all the lives that have been lost. It remains at half staff until noon, when it is raised to full staff to signify that those lost will always be remembered, but those who remain resolve not to let their sacrifice be in vain. We celebrate that we are able to continue the fight for liberty and justice for all.”
Hallie sighed. “That sounds like a wonderful presentation. However, after getting the basket of food, when I got back to my quarters, I had a message from the Sleepyside Cemetery Caretaker. He said that he was having trouble getting permission from the mayor to have a Memorial Day service at the city cemetery.”
Trixie sputtered, “What?”
Hallie continued. “Don’t worry, I have already fixed that glitch. Thanks to all your mysteries when you were growing up, I have established contacts with Chief Molinson and Matt Wheeler. I called both of them for help, and before I could finish unloading my car, the mayor was on the phone assuring me that, of course, Sleepyside will conduct a Memorial Day service.
“Trix, I do have a favor to ask, though. Since Dan is so far away, it is unlikely that he will get leave to come home for the weekend. I know you, and you are probably planning a very private weekend where you and Nellie Bean will look at pictures and home movies of Dan, doing everything you can to make sure she will recognize him when he does come home.
“But, Trix, this new widow has no family anywhere nearby, and the funeral for her husband is scheduled at the National Cemetery in Albany. I promised that I would be there with her and her children.
“I was calling to ask you to represent me at the Sleepyside service. Now, after hearing your explanation of that other Memorial Day service, I want you to be there more than ever, and incorporate the explanation of the flag ceremony. Will you do this for me, please, Trixie?”
“Hallie, of course Danielle and I will be honored to represent both you and Dan at the services. And I will do everything I can to make certain that the people of Sleepyside know what Memorial Day is supposed to mean.”
Later that evening, Trixie found her copy of the code and settled down to complete her transcription. She was disappointed to discover that Dan had been sent on a temporary duty assignment. He didn’t tell her where, of course, and she was proud that he had been selected, as it meant that his work would be beneficial to the troops, but she was frustrated that there was an element of risk, no matter how small.
Then she remembered a poem by Kelly Strong that she had memorized years ago in school.
I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze…
...I wondered just how many times
That TAPS had meant "Amen,"
When a flag had draped a coffin
Of a brother or a friend…
Trixie thought of that poem and realized that everyone has to do their part, not only to remember the fallen of the past, but to also remember the servicemen and women who still fight today.
Because, of course, freedom isn’t free.
Thank you to my editors, Vivian and K. They tried to teach me, really they did. However, any errors are, and always will remain, my own.
Also, parts of the poem by Kelly Strong, were used without permission but with great respect. Please read the poem in its entirety. Freedom Isn't Free
06/09/2014 re-write to add information about Memorial Day service.
So moving, GenE, and a very timely reminder that what often seems to many to be just another day off work was paid in blood and sacrifice. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete