It's So Hard To Leave You Behind

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It's So Hard To Leave You Behind

The smell of beer and the sound of a few people chatting amongst themselves greeted me as I entered this quiet tavern. Two tables were placed side by side and in the corner next to them stood a wooden staircase leading upstairs. A man creaked down the boards of the aged staircase and joined his friends at the next table.

I saw a man emerge from the door on the right carrying a plate of cooked and fragrant chicken dinner. He was wearing a slightly stained apron. He walked with a thick mustache and a bandanna on his head and served the plate to a customer sitting at one of the tables.

I asked the tavern keeper
"Hello, is Commander Logar here?
''Hello, welcome, yes, he's in the backyard''

I quickened my steps and walked through the open door next to the staircase into the hallway, there were some pictures hanging on the walls, obviously drawn by a child. In front of me appeared a large area that looked like a green gazebo, like a hidden part of the city, the sun of a landscape falling on the tavern's backyard.

I held her hand tightly.
"Don't be afraid, son," I said, straightening his bag.

The hallway grew bigger and bigger in my eyes and finally, we came out into the backyard, where three large wooden tables stood side by side. They were big and imposing, made of thick wood, as if it was made especially for the meeting. The perimeter of the garden was decorated with green flowers and vines. The view overlooked the city and the sea. The remnants of liquor dripping on the floorboards were darkened by the sun.
The voices of people and soldiers mingle in the freshness of the open air and in one corner cats meow to each other.

The sky is clear and the colors of the afternoon sunset, purples, and blues, mingle with oranges as they move into the night.

There was a table crowded with soldiers and two people in line. It was not hard to recognize that it was Commander Logar because he was wearing a red uniform that made him stand out like a Spartan soldier.

I got in line and held my son's hand tightly.
"Dad, why are there so many soldiers?''
"To defend our city, son.''

''Next!''

I walked to the front and the boards creaked. I came in front of the commander. He had his red tasseled helmet on the table and a stack of paper scrolls next to him.

"Hello. I am Lomis. I'm the baker on the corner of the street. This is my son Athus. I want to join the army to defend our city, but there is no one I can trust and leave my son with.''

''Hello, young man,'' the commander said in a deep, deep voice. I understood how he could influence his soldiers just by the way he spoke.
''Athus, what do you want to be when you grow up?''
"Dad?" he said and looked at me with his big eyes. I nodded my head in agreement.
"I want to be a painter when I grow up, sir, and I have painting materials and clothes in my bag," my little boy said. This year would be his seventh winter.
''We have a deal, come on. Do you see this brother? He will take you to a place where you can paint and play with other children. You can play with them as much as you want until your father comes back," he said and pointed to the soldier on his left. The soldier walked forward and reached out to take my son's hand. I gestured to him as if asking for one more minute and got down on my knees towards my son.

''Young man. I love you very much, never forget that. I have to go to defend our city. We have talked about this before. I will come back again, don't worry. While I am gone, these soldier brothers and the new teacher sisters where you are going will help you. Don't ever give up painting... Remember that I love you very much," I said and hugged him. He was like a little angel in my arms.

Then I kissed my son on the cheek without letting him speak and watched him walk slowly down the corridor we had come from.

"You made the right decision, Lomis," the commander said. "To give him a good future, we must first protect our city. Don't worry, he will be well taken care of in your absence.
''I don't want him to grow up as a soldier, please do everything you can to make him a painter, here are my last savings, 13 gold pieces. I leave The Bakery to my son. ''
The commander took the gold coins and smiled at me.
''Don't worry.
Don't worry, you can count on us. Sign here. You're no longer a baker. From now on, you're a soldier. You are a soldier who will fight for the future of your child and the future of all the children in this city. You've made the right decision.''

He sent me toward the soldiers on the left. And I thought, "Is that all?...

''Next!''

Thank you very much for reading. This short story was inspired by The Ink Well Prompt #96 Trust.