The Violet Shellshock
Seth Byle
Tom put on his bucket hat, opened the door of his cabin, and took one step outside before turning and saying, “Going on a quick hike, honey. I won’t be gone more than an hour.”
“Okay, have a nice walk.”
He shut the door behind him and began walking out into the vast wilderness that surrounded his rural home. The summer air was fresh, and the forest was the perfect place for him to kick back and enjoy the simple pleasures in life while letting his mind at ease. The birds sang, and the golden sun made the leaves glow like shining peridots. He was glad to call this place home. He stopped on a hill and watched as the sun went from gold to orange to red as it moved ever closer to the tree line. Then, after a good while watching the sun, he decided to turn back and head home. Then, from the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something moving, but when he turned his head, nothing was there. He wrote it off as just his mind playing tricks or possibly a squirl that quickly ran by before he could see it. But in spite of this, he began to develop a lingering feeling of paranoia. As it grew darker, the shadows started to move, he heard whispers, faint gunshots in the distance, and then… From the shadows, he saw a man wielding an AK pointing it at him. He dove into a ditch, and hid, crying. He watched as Vietcong surrounded him in the distant forest. He never went back to his home in Northern Michigan. That was just a pleasant dream. He was still in Vietnam; he never left. Enemy soldiers mocked him from the shadows. Ghosts of the darkness taunted him everywhere he went. But he got up and ran. Determined to make it back to base. But it was no use. They were everywhere, and the farther he ran, the further away the base seemed to be. He was lost, trapped, and this is where he was going to die. Alone and scarred in the vast jungles of Vietnam.
Then, through the endless sea of darkness, in the distance up ahead, piercing through all the soldiers and gunfire, and amid the cascades of black and grey horrors, was a faint violet spark. A spark that drew closer and nearer. Soon, he saw a man clad in amethyst robes. A man with a glowing face of compassion, and luminous wings with violet feathers. He shacked and trembled, not knowing who this was.
“Who are you? You’re not one of them, are you?”
“Be not afraid.” Said the violet-clad man.
“What’s going on? have I died?”
“No, sir, you’re very much alive.”
“Who are you, what are you, what are you doing on this battlefield?”
“This isn’t a battlefield, Thomas; you’re back home in Northern Michigan. It’s 1980 now, the war ended in 1975.”
“What? Who are you, how do you know my name? How can the war be over if there’s all these soldiers around.”
“My name is Zadkiel.”
“Zadkiel?”
“Yes, remember the story of Abraham who almost sacrificed Isaac? I was there, thousands of years ago I intervenes to save Isaac and now I’m here to save you.”
“Save me from the Vietcong?”
“Well, yes and no. You see, none of this is real. A part of you never truly left the war. You left a part of yourself in that time and place. A part of you died in that war… And now, that part of you wants to return, wants to come back to life, and that’s why you’re here, that’s why you’re seeing this.”
“Are you telling me I’m imagining all of this?”
“You’re not simply imagining, you’re re-living. But what’s happening to you today is important for you to become whole again. Now is the first day on your journey. Here, let me help you.”
Zadkiel placed his palm on his forehead, and the whole world seemed to spin. Then all around him, he saw a forest fire, but it was unlike any fire he had ever seen. The flames were violet, like magic, the Vietcong, the gunfire, and the darkness was consumed by the flames. And when he opened his eyes again… The calm, cool Michigan woodland was restored. There were no more soldiers, no monsters hiding in the dark. The sky was clear, and the stars and full moon lighted his way back to his cabin. He saw his wife. She could tell by his eyes that something had changed.
“Did you have a good hike?”
He paused for a moment. “Yes, you could say that.”
Later that evening, the two of them went to bed, and he lay in bed awake. That story of Abraham and Isaac. He remembered hearing that in Sunday school as a kid. How the angel intervened at the last moment to save Isaac. Sometime during the war, he stopped believing in God and angels, but maybe now… Maybe he believed again…