The Truth Beyond Tommy

Tommy studied Bill’s still face, gazing into his lifeless eyes.

Tommy felt a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, buddy, it’s time to go.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry Tommy, but you’ve seen men die before. Heck, you’ll probably see more before you get home.”

“I think I am done here.”

“Don’t we all want to believe that?” The sergeant patted Tommy’s shoulder. “We all want this war to end, for the fighting to end, but I—” he choked on his words. “We gotta go.”

“This is not my war. Next time I fight, it will be at home where I belong, where my people are, where I can fight a war and win.”

           

Since publishing “The Truth Beyond the River” last month, I’ve been sharing excerpts focusing on some of the main characters. I’ve been holding out on writing more about Tommy.

Twice in the book, he is referred to as a “troubled man”. And not through any fault of his own; life has not been kind to him. His father was killed while drunk driving, and his mother raised Tommy and his sisters on her own, with help from friends and neighbors, all of them living in poverty on the reservation. Fighting in the Vietnam War only added to his burdens. He came home suffering from PTSD, which in the mid-1970s had yet to be diagnosed. He’d always been somewhat short-tempered, but the trauma of the war made him volatile at times.

As he dove under the water and resurfaced several times, he thought about the months he slogged through Vietnam without so much as a clean change of clothes. His feet, along with those of most of his platoon, seemed to rot inside their army-issue boots. Nothing ever got dry. On those rare days when he got a shower, within minutes of toweling off sweat seeped from his pores. The humidity was unrelenting. He didn’t feel clean until his feet were dry and back on American soil.

Even then, though the filth came off his body, his mind remained poisoned.

Somehow, though, Tommy retains a kind and caring side. He is committed to not only winning a new war at home, but also to caring for his nephew Jericho. In fact, he is fighting this battle to better the lives of all of the children in his tribe.

Six men, two women, and a boy had gathered in the large kitchen, which was equipped with industrial grade appliances and the space to accommodate them. The small boy wore jeans a size too big and a t-shirt a size too small. His tennis shoes had holes in the toes and it was hard to tell what color they had originally been. His black hair hung straight down just to his shoulders, and his face was smudged. His lips were set in a straight line, but it was obvious he was having difficulty suppressing a grin.

“Jericho.” Tommy squatted down and pulled the boy into his arms. “How is my little corporal?”

The boy snuggled his head into his uncle’s neck.

In some ways, Tommy is the most complicated of the characters in my book. In others, he is the most straight forward. Though I created him in my head with no one in particular in mind, he is the easiest for me to picture. Perhaps because of that, though, I had the hardest time finding a photo of my own which reminds me of him

My sister Pat at a waterfalls up north in 1981.
I can imagine Tommy drawing strength from the rushing water in the same way. 

If you’ve already purchased a copy of "The Truth Beyond the River", thank you from the bottom of my heart. If not, click on the link to get yours. Or let me know and I will get you one of my copies. Thanks for all of your support and have a great weekend. Chris

.