In the breezy hours of a smooth Thursday morning, Johnny sat on his porch steps, looking across at an abandoned house. The house he used to always go to for homework help when he was in elementary school. It sat still as the people who lived in it moved away. Their son was drafted into the military and was sent to fight. No other news about them came out. All Johnny knew was that the boy's name was Titus.

It was warm out, but a smooth breeze sent shivers to an underdressed Johnny. No one was home at the moment, and he didn't go to school either. The roads were empty, but a humming of noise from afar could be heard from where Johnny was sitting. He knew who it was just from the kick of the engine.

The car that was driving up toward Johnny was Mr. Maimo's. It was a decade old and had engine problems, yet he never thought of getting a new car. He kept true to his word, stating that if he bought a new car and died the next day, it would be extremely useless. With everything going on in the world, Johnny understood everything said. But as the days continued, the news spoke about more hassle and heartfelt disgust over the recent events.

"Ah, man," Johnny murmured. He stood up from the steps and moved slowly on the pathway towards the sidewalk. "You couldn't have turned around?"

"Do I look like a taxi service to you?" laughed Mr. Maimo. "Where's everyone?"

"Gone," he stated. "My sister is in school, and my mother is itching her brain at work."

"No one, huh?" Mr. Maimo sighed. "Alright, well, it's time to go."

Picking up the large garbage bag and hauling it over his shoulder, Johnny looked at his house, smiling.

"What made you all happy?" Mr. Maimo asked. He opened the trunk of his sedan, moving away numerous books and book store necessities.

"I could've held it," Johnny offered.

"It's alright," Mr. Maimo said. "I insist; I see you're nervous."

"Couldn't be helped," he had thought as he walked toward the passenger side. Looking at the house one last time before he sat down in the car, Johnny felt goosebumps.

The car started again, humming its soul out as the clicking of the turn signal and every mechanic that happened with the car bass boosted into Johnny's ears. The music started playing, which made Johnny's hands shiver. "You don't know a thing about me!" sang the vocalist as Mr. Maimo turned the volume up.

"Can we make one quick stop?" Johnny asked.

"Of course," Mr. Maimo replied.

Just close to the train station, there was a small house where war vets and mentally ill people went. This place was a haven for vets and injured people who've either lost family or couldn't be taken care of on a day-to-day basis by them. The building was made of bricks, and a big sign outside introduced itself in bright beaming red lights: "Lansing Home."

[Heartfelt]

"Are you visiting someone?" asked the receptionist.

"Ah, Rita, that's Mr. Niemen's son," said a nurse walking by. "I can take him."

"My apologies, Mr. Niemen," the receptionist said.

"No need for an apology," Johnny replied. "I'm not some big shot."

The nurse and the receptionist smiled at each other as Johnny walked alongside the nurse towards two brown double doors. These double doors led to another hall, this one longer and stretching out more. Numerous doors to their left and right showed different activity rooms.

"Isn't his room upstairs?" Johnny asked.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"He is at the pool," the nurse replied. "He'll be glad to see you."

"I bet," Johnny replied.

"What caused you to show up today?" the nurse asked.

"Well, I'm leaving for the Marines today," Johnny replied.

"You've been drafted?" the nurse choked.

"Nah, I just decided to enlist on my own," Johnny replied. "On my own free will, nothing else."

"Good luck out there," the nurse replied.

The pool doors were two white double doors. Once you open it, it leads to the main big pool, where there is free swimming and physical therapy happening all at once. The stench of chlorine was overpowering any other smell. The nurse's perfume smell was completely vaporized from existence.

"Delilah," asked a nurse holding a ton of towels.

"Yes?" she responded.

"Do you mind helping me with these?" the nurse asked.

Delilah, the nurse who is currently leading Johnny, had been running around the facility for the whole day. No breaks, no assistance either.

"You can leave them on that chair, and I'll get them when I finish," she smiled.

Delilah had brown, straight hair. She's Hispanic and has blue eyes. She stood at 5'6" and walked with a straight back with her height increasing with good posture. She had a light, polite voice when speaking to many people, but not to most of her colleagues. Delilah was also easily angered and was an intern. Technically, she would be called a student nurse.

Johnny moved on without her. He walked around the side of the pool, watching for wet spots as he made his way to where most of the people were hanging out. Delilah had still been behind talking to the other nurse, so he continued on.

"Johnny boy," said a man with a feminine voice. "Are you here to see him?"

"Yeah," Johnny replied.

"Mr. Niemen, you've got a visitor!" the man called out. "Ah?"

"He's not here!" screamed the nurse across from the pool. "He's back in his room!"

Johnny sighed, but turned around and made his way toward his father's room. He side-eyed Delilah as she looked up at him, walking past her and out of the doors.

"You messed up, again?" said the nurse who was holding the towels. "Now help me put these away."

Moving up the stairs, Johnny entered the second floor, where his father's room was. There was a nurse patrolling the halls as she saw Johnny move himself into the hall and down the nicely animal-patterned corridor carpet.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm here to see my father, Mr. Niemen," Johnny asked. "I was with a nurse, but she got caught up and gave me the wrong information. I'm on a busy schedule as I ship out soon."

"Ah, alright," said the nurse. "She ushered Johnny toward a brown door with decorations over it. Opening the door slowly to a dim room with a man sitting in a wheelchair facing the wall. His head had been tilted but slowly rose up once the door opened more. "Mr. Niemen, your son is here."

Johnny's father was named Johnathan Niemen. He served in the military before being medically discharged. He sat in a wheelchair in the middle of his room, which was filled with pictures of his family. He had a Bible placed on a nightstand to the left of the door and a nice, comfy bed next to it. Johnathan Niemen couldn't speak. All he could do was hum. His movement was limited as he sustained a brain injury.

Johnny rarely visited him. Mainly because he couldn't bear seeing his father in that state. His father was still young for a father with many kids. He moved as if he were in his late 80s. He had a shaved beard and black hair. He looked like someone in his mid- to late-thirties.

Johnny pulled up a chair that had been in the corner of the room. He sat on it, watching his father stare at the many pictures on the wall.

"You have no idea I'm here, don't you?" Johnny whispered. "Ah well, hopefully they cure yah."

His father didn't look his way.

"I'm joining the military," Johnny said. "They give good pay, so I'll send some here, of course."

Johnny could see that there was not a thought in his father's eyes. It wasn't that he didn't hear or understand what was happening. But his father couldn't fully process who Johnny was. He's been in this state ever since that incident. The sad truth is that Johnny doesn't even know if he truly understands what happened to his older brothers.

"Alright," Johnny sighed. "I wish you all the best, pa." He looked at the clock on the wall and set the chair back in its initial position. "I'll be leaving now," he said as he walked toward the door. The nurse had been outside the room, giving him some alone time.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"At least he's looking at the pictures," Johnny chuckled.

Leaving Lansing Home, Mr. Maimo had driven toward the train station. They both didn't speak; the voice of the lady on the radio singing her heart out was all that was heard. Occasionally, Mr. Maimo would hum to the tune of a song, but that was it. Johnny looked out the window, watching the streets of the city he grew up in, as he would most likely never see this place again. It was like being sentenced to death at your own will.