Toy Soliders

Frankie Lever kept glancing back at Nick to make sure he was still there. He couldn’t believe the 6th grader had agreed to come over to his house. Frankie badly wanted his approval, because he knew that Nick was considered one of the “cool kids.” Since moving 1500 miles away from his home a month ago, Frankie had yet to meet anyone he felt he connected to like his friends back in Harrison. Living in the city was so much different than the rural Ozark area he longed for. But today Nick had sat down next to him on the bus and asked him about his accent.

“You talk funny. Where you from?”

“Arkansas.”

“So, what’cha doing in L.A.?”

“My grandpa lives here. My mom’s a nurse and he needed help cuz he fell, so she agreed to move out here. We’re supposed to go back eventually, but I think she really likes L.A., so I don’t know.” Frankie shrugged his shoulders.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Frankie told Nick about his dirt bike that he had gotten for his last birthday, which is how the two boys ended up heading over to Frankie’s house.

“Grandpa, I’m home,” Frankie shouted as he shuffled through the door.

“Hi ya, Sport. I’ve got something for you in a little bit,” a voice called from the back of the house.

Just as Frankie was about to drop his backpack on the floor the voice called out again, “Make sure you put your stuff in your room.” Frankie rolled his eyes and Nick let out a snort.

“OK, Grandpa.” He grabbed the bag and trudged back to his room and Nick followed.

“What are those?” Nick asked Frankie as they entered the bedroom.

Frankie stared with embarrassment at the wooden toy soldiers covering the top of his dresser. “Oh…uh those are just some stupid toy soldiers that my Grandpa made me.”

“You still play with toy soldiers?” Nick walked over and picked up one of the figurines.

Frankie could tell by Nick’s voice that the older boy didn’t think much of his collection. “No, of course not. I told you, my Grandpa Jimmy made them for me. Since we live with him now, my mom said I gotta keep ‘em out.”

Nick threw Frankie a look that indicated he didn’t believe the 10-year-old boy’s explanation. “It’s true Nick. I swear, I don’t still play with those things. My grandpa keeps making them for me like I’m still some five-year-old baby or something. I think the soldiers are stupid, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

Nick’s eyes got wide and he nodded his head toward the bedroom door. Frankie whipped around and saw his grandfather standing in the doorway with a freshly carved soldier clutched in his hand. Frankie wondered if his grandfather had heard what he had just said.

“Grandpa! Umm…what are you doing there?” Frankie managed to stammer out.

His grandfather didn’t say anything, but slowly walked into the room and carefully placed the soldier onto the crowded dresser top, then turned and left.

“Oh my God! He heard me, didn’t he?”

Nick nodded his head, but remained quite and studied the soldier in his hand that he had picked up earlier.

Frankie covered his face with his hands. “What am I gonna say to him?” Frankie thought about all of the times his grandfather had given him a new soldier and the look of pride on his face. “He’s gonna be so mad at me.”

“Uhhh, I don’t know Frankie, but I gotta go,” Nick said somewhat uncomfortably.

“Oh…yeah. Alright, I’ll see you later.”

“See ya tomorrow.” Nick got up and started out the door still holding the toy, then turned back to Frankie, “I hope everything’s cool with your grandpa. Here,” he handed the soldier back to Frankie, “they’re actually kinda cool when you look close. Well, see ya.”

“Bye Nick.” Frankie watched Nick’s retreating back with a mixture of shame, embarrassment and anger. He looked down at the soldier Nick had handed him. It was about four inches tall and made out of a dark wood, but Frankie didn’t know what type. For the first time in all of the years that his grandfather had made the soldiers for him, Frankie actually looked closely at the toy, instead of just putting it on his dresser and forgetting about it. He noticed that he could see individual shoe laces on the boots and buttons on the jacket. Wrinkles in the wood mimicked that of real fabric and Frankie saw emotion on the soldiers face. His grandfather had somehow managed to capture both fear and determination. Frankie looked over at the dresser and saw the newest addition. He walked and grabbed it, feeling how smooth it was. He imagined how many hours it must have taken his grandfather to carve and then smooth it down and all of the love that had gone into it. Looking at the face, he realized it seemed familiar, but he couldn’t figure out why. With a sudden start, he noticed something he had never seen before.

“Oh man,” he whispered to himself. He picked up another soldier and then another. He closed his eyes and felt hot tears prick behind the lids.

With a slightly sick stomach, Frankie got up and peered around the doorway, but didn’t see anyone. He cautiously took some steps toward his grandfather’s bedroom and quickly glanced in, but the room was empty. He heard some noises coming from the back of the house where his grandfather had converted a room into a mini-woodworking shop. With slumped shoulders and bowed head, Frankie moved towards the sounds. He saw the old man with a hand broom sweeping up wood dust particles from around a sander.

“Grandpa Jimmy,” Frankie said timidly.

Jimmy stiffened at the sound, and then turned to face his young grandson. “Frankie.”

“I’m sorry I said that about the soldiers.”

“Don’t be sorry if you meant it. I’d rather not waste my time making you something you don’t want. Something…stupid.”

Frankie winced at the word, knowing how much and why that must have hurt his grandfather. “They’re not stupid Grandpa. I was stupid for saying that.”

“You don’t need to pretend anymore Frankie. You made your feelings perfectly clear to your friend. “

Frankie’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I was wrong Grandpa. I know that now.”

Jimmy shook his head, “You’re just saying that because you think you hurt my feelings. Well don’t worry about it Frankie-boy. It only stings a little bit. I’ll be fine. I’ve lived through a lot worse in my seventy years. A lot worse.”

Frankie swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. He stepped into the room. “I’m really sorry I hurt you Grandpa, but that’s not what I was wrong about. I mean I was wrong about that too, but I was wrong about something all along.”

Jimmy stopped sweeping and stared at him. “What do you mean Frankie?”

Frankie held up the newest carving. “He’s not a toy is he, Grandpa?”

The old man looked down at the floor then fixed his focus on the soldier in Frankie’s hands. “No,” he finally said.

“None of them are toys, are they?”

His grandfather shook his head, and then sat down heavily on the chair next to him. “No, they aren’t Frankie.”

“I never really looked at them Grandpa. I just played with them when I was little, then put them up when I got older. But I never really looked. I didn’t want them anymore, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I was embarrassed that Nick would think I was a baby, so I said those mean things. After he left, I was ashamed about what I had said. I started studying the soldier, Grandpa and he looked familiar for some reason. Then I saw it.”

“What did you see?”

Frankie came and sat by Jimmy and pointed to a spot on the soldier’s chest. “Lever,” he said softly.

“Oh.”

“All of them say Lever.”

“Yeah”

“The soldiers…they’re my dad aren’t they?” his voice cracked.

Jimmy took a deep breath, “Yes, Frankie. The soldier is your dad…my son.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Grandpa?”

“You were so young when he died over in Iraq, You were only four-years-old. I started making the soldiers so that you would remember him, but I didn’t want to make you sad, so I didn’t tell you they were your dad. I just figured since they were soldiers, they’d remind you of him. Then through the years, I continued to make them so that I wouldn’t forget him.” Jimmy’s breath caught and he raised a shaky hand and brushed at the tears in his eyes.

“But I’m not four any more Grandpa. You coulda told me.”

“I would have told you eventually, but I guess a part of me wanted you to see it for yourself. Pretty foolish, huh, Sport?”

“No, not really.”

Jimmy put his hand on top of Frankie’s head and pulled him close. “But I guess you did see it for yourself, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. But it took me a long time,” he sagged into his grandfathers arm around his shoulder. He nodded his head toward the soldier, “Does it really help you to remember him?”

“When I start to carve them Frankie, I can see his face so clearly in my mind. I can hear his voice. When I touch the wood, it’s like I’m touching him again. My only child. My son. I remember things like his high school graduation, or when he told me he was going to propose to your mother.” He reached down and lifted up Frankie’s chin, “I remember how excited he was when you were born. He was bouncing off the walls.” Jimmy smiled and his eyes glinted with the memory.

“Can you teach me, Grandpa?”

“Teach you? Teach you what?” Frankie pointed at the soldier. “Oh, how to carve them?”

“Yeah, how to carve them…and how to remember my dad.” Frankie’s lip trembled as he said the last few words.

Jimmy’s voice choked with emotion and he said, “Franklin James Lever Jr., it would be my honor to teach you how to carve these soldiers and to help you remember your father.

Frankie slipped his arms around his grandfather and buried his face into his neck. “I love you Grandpa!”

“I love you too, Frankie.”







Word Count: 1743