Today, I brought Ted a tulip bouquet with red, pink, and yellow flowers. They look good beside his name, besides that one lone leaf slightly covering up the “n” in Eldon. Hopefully, Roosevelt doesn’t mind that.
After switching out the flowers, I sit on the bench beside the memorial, the unopened Education Cart before me, and write a little in the notebook Temple gave me in the hospital. I noticed a small camera crew when I reached the Hangar Bay from the deck below. It’s the first thing I write about because I’m curious if they’re here to present the Korean War memorabilia. I need to act surprised when they approach me. I can do that, sure. Hopefully, that won’t be for a while, though.
After ten minutes, I shut my notebook and put it and my pen on the Education Cart. Before standing with my snazzy new cane, I reach into my shirt and draw the locket. I polished it last night, and now I can see my reflection in the brass.
Opening the locket, I quietly study Ted and I’s picture and nod, shutting it again. Then, standing, I roll the Education Cart to the Corsair and park it before it. I shudder a bit at seeing it but inhale to calm myself.
I can do this. It’s just a Corsair.
Taking the Education Cart key Temple gave me, I unlock the cart and open the doors, pulling out the box with the plane models. There’s one Avenger, Corsair, Dauntless, Hellcat, Helldiver, Val, Kate, Judy, and Zero. I line the planes out how I like them and draw the plastic Recognition Book next, placing it in the corner. I’m all set; I merely need to wait for people interested in World War II history, even though I smell a Korean War memorabilia around the corner.
I sit while I wait and observe the Corsair, saying, “Ted, I’m trying.” I hope I won’t get anxious around the Corsair one day, but I’m no longer losing my temper and swinging my cane at it, so that’s progress.
My eyes roam, and I see the camera crew hovering around the Information Booth, waiting for a signal. That’s what it looks like to me. Temple’s also there, chatting with them.
When I get my first customers, I focus back on the cart and stand, smiling at the little boy in the crowd. “Would you like to play a guessing game?” I ask him, pointing at each of the airplanes. “Guess what these airplanes are.”
I swear, this kid knows more than me when I was his age. He guesses all the planes except the Judy and Helldiver. “Well done!” I say, giving him a high five.
He chuckles and waves, looking over his shoulder as he leaves with his parents. If only more kids were interested in history nowadays like him.
Another hour passes, and then I see a figure walking toward me from the Information Booth—Natalie. And is that… Teddy? It is! What’s he doing here? Ah, it doesn’t matter. I’m happy to see our dog. I’ll call him the cherry on top of the memorabilia.
“Teddy!” I say, sitting back down on the bench.
Natalie stops before me and sets Teddy beside me.
He crawls onto my lap, stretches his neck, and licks my cheek, whining. His tail will fall off with how fast he’s wagging it.
“I thought I’d bring him today,” Natalie explains. “Temple says that once he’s out of the cast, you can start bringing him here as an Emotional Support Animal.”
“Really? Temple said that?” I question, and Natalie nods. “Oh, Natalie, thank you.”
She lifts her finger. “That’s not all. I’ll be right back, Daddy. You spend time with Teddy.”
My heart flips. It’s time; it’s time for the “big” surprise—the memorabilia. Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?
I can see that Natalie is, too. I hug Teddy when she turns and shuffles toward the Information Booth.
Another group of people approaches me soon after Natalie leaves. The children say, “Aw” to Teddy, but their parents hold them back and bring them to the cart.
Teddy remains on the bench, but I stand behind the cart and begin my lecture, gesturing at the Corsair. “I flew Corsairs in the Korean War. Would you guys like to learn how to tell a friend from a foe?”
“Yes, please,” the children say, and their parents squeeze their shoulders.
This lecture is the smoothest one of all. I don’t get nervous around the Corsair—because I’m already nervous about something else—and end up talking about Ted for an extra few minutes with the parents. “We joined the Navy when we were eighteen. World War II excited us so much that we couldn’t wait to serve. I was the only one who returned, though.”
“Oh, my gosh, we’re sorry.” The mother reaches for her lips.
“They deemed Ted Missing in Action, but I haven’t seen him since,” I explain. “However”—I bring out my locket and share the picture with the family—“I keep him close with this locket.”
“You must’ve really loved him,” the mother guesses, giving me a gentle smile.
“I did,” I admit. “Ted was my best friend.” Sniffing, I rub my eyes. “Sorry, I’ve just learned how to express my grief.”
“It’s okay,” says the mother.
That’s when one of her children tugs her arm and asks, “Mommy, what’s grief?”
Her mother titters feebly and wraps her arm around her child. “It means this man lost someone he loved.”
Right after she explains this, I hear Natalie. “Daddy?”
The family backs away and slips behind the camera crew, who have moved down the Hangar Bay and stand a few feet from me.
Great, now I’m just scared, but I keep myself together and turn toward Natalie’s voice.
She and Temple are beside me, and Officer Nero’s behind them. They move aside to reveal Tallulah holding onto a wheelchair.
An elderly man wearing a Valley Forge cap sits in the chair, his wrinkled hands on his thighs. He sports dark jeans, a black buckle, and a light blue collared shirt. Something about him—his demeanor, perhaps—feels familiar, and then Tallulah clutches his shoulders.
“William Beckington,” she timidly says, glancing down at the man, “this is my father… Ted.”
Ted? I freeze, and my eyes widen. What’s Tallulah talking about? She said that her father… Wait, no, she didn’t. She didn’t say he died—only that he was severely injured. I just assumed he had died. But… this man can’t be—!
When the man slowly stands and pulls out a brass locket from his shirt, my eyes widen further.
Tallulah looks at him lovingly and says, “It’s okay, Dad.”
I redraw my own locket, and the man and I slowly approach one another. I already feel tears prickling behind my eyes. This man can’t be—!
We open our lockets together, and sure enough, each carries the same photo of when Ted and I started our service: two young men eager to head off to war, unaware of the scars it leaves on people.
Is this for real? But I thought—! I mean, I shot Ted down. Is what is happening now really a Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo moment?
The man and I lower our lockets and meet eyes. The man’s are blueberry blue, the same color as my Ted. It’s him; it’s really him. Only Theodore Eldon has eyes like these.
Everything makes sense now—why Tallulah was so interested in learning about Ted and why Natalie was eager to help.
Tears flow down my cheeks, and I shakily ask the man, “Roosevelt?”
He gently takes my shoulders, his blueberry blue eyes sparkling, but I see tears in them, too. “Cheeky,” he confesses.
I sob, drop my cane, and embrace him. Flashbacks from our childhood, young adulthood, and service dance through my mind. I don’t see the dogfight anymore—only Ted.
I release him briefly and grasp his hands, whimpering, “I-I thought I lost you.” My grip tightens, and Ted returns it.
“As I said in the brig that day, Cheeky,” he whispers in my ear, “you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
I sob again and hug him for a second time, closing my eyes.
A round of applause and cheers erupt around us in Yorktown’s Hangar Bay, and I hear the shutter click from the camera crew. This is the best “big” surprise I’ve ever had. I can’t believe how far off I was.
I open my eyes and see that Temple has come between Natalie and Tallulah. He rests a hand on their shoulders, and the two girls glance at him individually.
Teddy hops down from the bench and hobbles to Natalie, resting against her. She pats his head, and Teddy kisses her hand.
I don’t know what’s next for me at Patriots Point, but what I do know is that I can finally tell Ted that I accept his confession. I may never know how this happened, but that’s not important now. What’s important is that I have my friend back, and while it took me seventy emotionless years to realize it, I finally know who I am.
I am Cheeky, the best friend of Theodore Eldon, and this is my story.
24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8paWMD36BH
End of Act III: The Lazarus Effect
Final Word Count: 51,567
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