From Dusk Till Dawn

Chapter 3: Solitary Creatures-Joseph's pov

About two hours later, I woke up to the sound of thunder clapping. Getting up I stretch out like a cat. My bones pop from sleeping in the same position for too long.

Shuffling barefoot into the kitchen, I yawn with exhaustion.
Sitting at the head of our creaky table is a scruffy middle-aged man known as my pa. He's sipping on a green liquid that appears to be split pea soup.

"Got hungry Josey?" I pause in place at the name he called me. It was the nickname she gave me. He knows I prefer being called Joseph for reasons I dread to think about.

My pa hasn't always been the easiest man to get along with and he always makes sure I remembered that. The cruel man is always pointing out my flaws and calling me a disappointment. I'm not sure what I am but sometimes his words convince me otherwise.

Walking past everyone at the kitchen table, I pour steaming, hot soup into my bowl. Pea soup is George's favorite but to me, the green broth smells like sweaty feet. I'm not too picky so I'll eat what I can get.

Snatching a piece of homemade brown bread with several seeds along the loaf, I eat my food standing up.

The bread is burnt at the end and a little dry, but I don't mention it to my hard-working ma. She's not the best at cooking or baking but I admire her effort to put food on the table every night. Pa is the cook of the family but he rarely cooks for us.

"They were conversing about the war after the broadcast today at the bank. Che tristezza is the whole attack in Hawaii. Once we get into the war, which I imagine will be quite soon, they'll be drafting ages twenty-one years of age and up. I'm only half sure they'll ship me off to war." Pa is nearly fifty-six years of age and suspects he'll be shipped off to work in a factory that alleviates the war efforts.

"You're almost twenty one Joseph." This catches my full attention.
"I'm only eighteen pa." I remind him. He takes a slow sip of his shallow soup. The steam from the hot soup fogs up his square-shaped glasses. I've set my soup down because I know where this conversation is going.

"Almost nineteen, and that's near enough to twenty-one." With his button up shirt, Pa wipes away the smudges on his glasses. "I think being drafted off to fight in the war would be good for you. It will finally help make you into a man. A strong man. It sure as hell helped Uncle Beto." He illustrates honestly.

It hasn't even been fifteen minutes of dinner and pa is already adding fuel to my hatred towards him. "I'm sorry you think of me as such a disappointment pa, but I happen to think I'm a really powerful and capable man, just by myself."

My ma's voice is shaky as she speaks, "Leo, don't say such a thing to our figlio. We believe you are strong on your own my Joseph. With or without fighting a lethal war." Ma shoots pa a flustered glare. George sits in his chair silent, not moving a muscle.

"Stay out of this Anna. This doesn't involve you." He waves a hand silencing her. Ma shrinks down in her chair with fear in her eyes.

"You're always babying him and for what? He's an adult Anna, and for god sakes our son hasn't even had a girl. Makes me think he's a-"

I know what he's going to say but he's wrong. His words are only meant to seep into my body and deteriorate my emotions.

"Regardless of age, when the time comes and it shall, you will be drafted to fight with America. I'm not keen on the idea of it either but we have no choice."