The Most Important Thing. David Gross
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there all along.
“Good-bye, Pa,” said Bradley.
The old man stood and offered his scarred, old hand to his son. Pa looked him directly in the eye.
“If you are going to do this, son, do it right,” he smiled.
For a brief moment, the fleshy causeway of two iron hands joined. For that instant the great gulf between father and son bridged. All too soon the storm of human change broke the fragile bridge and the two callused hands parted.
Bradley ambled down the familiar wooden steps sinking into the moist, ancient earth of Ole Buck. He walked away. His bothers and sisters, Ma and Pa peered through the window until Bradley disappeared. Ma noted that Bradley never looked back. How wrong was Ma, for the looking back never ends.
Silent providence witnessed the great exchange. Bradley traded his innocence for sophistication. He dealt blissful ignorance for costly knowledge, maybe even wisdom. The boy bartered the cold and muddy roads of Kentucky for the colder and muddier roads of Korea. The healthy lad swapped peaceful slumber for nightmares. The quarry of the hunt evolved from deer, rabbit, and squirrel to fathers, sons, husbands, and brothers. The son replaced the embrace of Mother for the company of unwashed, vulgar young men. Home was exchanged for horror. Who could the government induce to engage in such a bargain? Find a young man, speak with him, and you have your answer.
Across the road the Combs house remained quiet and dark. Bradley decided not to stop.
Walking down the gravel and mud road, Bradley passed a farmhouse where ancient Maggie Hayes braved the cold, standing on her porch. Directly in front of her house, Bradley waved. Suddenly, a large gray dog appeared in the center of the gravel road ahead of him blocking his way. This silent messenger from the wild realm stood thirty feet from the stalwart youth. The dark dog held his ground.
Large carnivores seem to know when they have you. Bradley stood in view of a farmhouse so the dog looked wary, every Kentucky farmhouse is armed. The wild creatures learn that early. Bradley was an enormous prey, twice as large as the dog, so the dog didn’t have Bradley. Still, the predator observed the boy curiously turning his head strangely from side to side.
“Pick up a rock and bust him in the head!” ordered the ancient woman from the porch of her house, “Bust him in the head!”
Though his prowess matched the task due to years of practice chucking rocks, Bradley decided not to stone the wild dog. Bradley showed mercy to the animal. Thus, Bradley snubbed the valueless challenge against nature. Further, it irritated him being controlled. Quickly, Bradley conceived an alternate stratagem. Slowly, the boy spread his hands wide apart and, then, brought them quickly together with a POP! The wild eyes of the solitary guardian suddenly tired, the dog bounded away. With grace and strength the dog effortlessly leaped from the road, melting into the dark wood. The message that he carried, now delivered, freed the wild creature to resume his friendless hunt.
Bradley Gross considered the question: Could a softhearted person unwilling to kill a dog, kill a man? Did he have the courage to do his duty as a soldier? He silently prayed never to find himself in that position. Then he remembered his father’s advice. This thought cheered him as he continued sloshing his way down the gravel road.
Dancing behind the heavy plow of fate, Bradley held tightly to the timeless handles of Ole Buck: honor and service. Though his pasture proved rocky and rooty, Bradley plowed straight. What he did, he did right. Through it all, he did as his father advised, he kept his eyes on something far away.
It only takes a drop of fuel to launch a determined boy toward destiny. Bradley’s pocket contained the egg sandwich and six dollars and twelve cents. He wore the only shoes he owned. His old blue overalls were clean but patched. On his back Bradley wore the yellow shirt his brother gave him.
Anderson waited at the bus stop kicking rocks. The bus ran late due to the bad weather. When the boys finally saw the bus, their free-flowing noses flamed bright with color. The Greyhound carried the boys away from the dirt road beside Ole Buck Creek. The bouncing old, metal dinosaur ground its gears through the many narrow curves of the mountain road to Jackson, Kentucky. The road was so icy, treacherous, and dark that it took half an hour to travel the twelve miles to Jackson. Jackson was the county seat, with a population of over a thousand. The town’s population barely justified a bus depot. Bradley and Anderson rode through the hills and frozen trees of their past while the boys chatted excitedly about the future.
“I’m going to buy a suit with my first paycheck,” said Anderson.
“What in God’s name for?” asked Bradley. Bradley thought a tie the most uncomfortable garment ever devised. Why would anyone wear an item resembling a hangman’s noose?
“I want a suit and a tie like a real gentleman,” replied Anderson, “Everybody treats you well when you wear a suit. Women treat you well. Other men treat you well. In stores, they wait on you first. It’s not the person, it’s the suit.”
“I am not denying what you say is right, Anderson,” said Bradley, “but don’t personal comfort mean anything? I would rather be comfortable and be treated like everyone else.”
“Bradley, the only reason you say that is you haven’t been treated like a gentleman. When you go to a place where they don’t know you, and you come in wearing a suit, I guarantee you will like it when they hustle to get whatever it is that you want,” argued Anderson.
“Well, all I want is a pair of jeans and a tee shirt,” replied Bradley.
“All right,” said Anderson, “but I’ll be the one dancing with all of the girls in the free world.”
“Why limit yourself to the free world, Anderson?” asked Bradley. “We’ll be going to Germany and maybe Russia. We’ll see plenty of Communist women. Let’s dance with them too. The Army will bring us into contact with women everywhere.”
“I’d dance with a German, but not a Russian,” avowed Anderson.
“Dance with whoever you want, but I’m not putting any limits on anything. If a girl was willing to dance with me, I would dance with her,” affirmed Bradley.
“As long as they have bosoms… . Hey! Bradley, we have finally arrived at Jackson. This trip is going to take all day just to get to Louisville,” grumbled Anderson. The gears ground, indicating the slower speed limit of the town.
“It sure beats walking. It takes all day to walk to Jackson,” said Bradley. This being his first trip to the megalopolis of Louisville.
“Your feet don’t hurt as bad if you ride a horse or a mule,” responded Anderson.
“True, sore feet or sore butt, it’s a matter of choice,” replied Bradley.
“Well, this was one of the best trips that I ever had to Jackson,” said Anderson.
“Me too,” agreed Bradley.
“I hope that we feel that way when we come home,” wished Anderson.
“Two years from now, it will be you and me,” promised Bradley.
“Do you think we will succeed?” asked Anderson.
“Sure, we’re good-looking and smart. You’ll be a general,” replied Bradley.
“Do you think we will fight?” asked Anderson.
“I don’t know. That’s the purpose of an army. It could happen,” said Bradley.
“I don’t want to, but I will do my job,” said Anderson.
“So will I,” said Bradley.
“We’ll make it,” said Anderson.
“Tell you what, Anderson, no matter what happens let’s stick together. Let’s watch each other’s back. I don’t know if we can, but let’s stay in the same company. Let’s make a pact,”