Lompoc

Peter was a twelve-year-old boy with a vivid imagination. He would often tell stories of his adventures during the day that sounded as if they were right out of some movie from Hollywood. His mother always thought he would grow up to be some kind of writer, or better yet, a movie director. But on this day, Peter’s story was not made up. Although, because of Peter’s reputation, his mother did not believe a word.

In the small town of Lompoc, California, on the corner of South H Street and Locust Street, sits the Veteran’s Memorial Building. A place that Peter would visit on occasion. He would dream of being a soldier and fighting for his country one day. With that, he would make up stories of being in battle and going on secret missions to save the world.

Today, though, Peter would come home with a true story of bravery that was not made up. And it all started in the front courtyard of the Veteran’s Memorial Building.

Peter was walking by when he noticed a soldier dressed in his formal uniform looking as if he had just come from a parade. The soldier was a young man in his late twenties and stood tall as if he were standing at attention. Peter, being the curious boy, approached the soldier. “Hi,” Peter said, expecting a reply. The soldier just stood there, paying no attention to Peter.

“Are you a soldier?” Peter asked.

The solder slowly looked down at Peter. “Yes. Seven years with five tours to Afghanistan.”

“Wow,” Peter exclaimed, “That’s cool. When I get older, I want to be a soldier, too.”

“Cool?” The soldier questioned. He glared at Peter with a confused look on his face. “There was nothing cool about it. I lost countless friends, I had to kill…” The soldier realizing Peter was only a young boy paused to choose a different word. “… shoot people that I didn’t even know. Let me tell you something, kid, there was nothing cool about the things I did or saw. Being a soldier… being THAT kind of soldier was not what I thought I would be doing.”

The soldier walked with Peter to a nearby bench and sat down. He looked at Peter, “Why do you want to be a soldier?” he asked.

Peter thought for a few seconds. “Well,” Peter gathered his thoughts and started to question his reasons after hearing the soldier speak. “My mom would tell me stories about how my grandma and grandpa came to this country. They wanted an opportunity to make a better life for them and their family. My dad now owns a large farm that grows vegetables. He sells those vegetables to stores all over the country.”

The soldier looked at Peter with a puzzled look. “What does that have to do

with being a soldier?” he asked.

Peter continued, “If the soldiers did not fight for our freedom, my dad wouldn’t have this farm. My grandparents wouldn’t have moved here. All the people that eat the vegetables that my father grows wouldn’t have that food to eat.” Peter looked at the soldier and continued, “I just think being a soldier and fighting for the freedom of people you don’t know is a good thing.” Peter looked at the soldier, “Isn’t it? Or do you think fighting for our freedom is wrong?”

The soldier was taken back by what Peter had said. “You’re right, kid. Sometimes it takes someone like you, someone you don’t hardly know, to put things in perspective.” The soldier stood up. “What’s your name?”

“Peter,” he replied, standing up.

“Well, Peter,” the soldier continued. “You have helped me. I came here today to try and figure out why I decided to become a soldier. And God sent me you.”

Your turn. Finish the story:

Oceano

The sun had just gone down. Michelle and Danny decided to take a break from sitting around the campfire at their campsite at Oceano Memorial Campground and take a walk around the nearby lagoon. The trail that goes around the lagoon is an easy one and they thought the fresh air would do them good. Michelle told her friend, Amy, that they were going and invited her along. Amy respectfully declined. “I’m tired,” Amy said, “and I just want to get some sleep.”

Michelle and David said good-night and headed to the trail. Amy went to her tent to crash for the night.

The Lagoon Trail was a popular walk for visitors and locals, alike, and usually had several people walking on it and enjoying the evening air. It would be unu-

sual to see no less than two or three people every minute. But this night was different. David noticed right away that there were no other people around. And it was eerily quiet. “Do you hear that?” David asked. “It’s dead quiet. Not to mention, there’s nobody here. That’s odd.”

“Yeah, this is scary,” Michelle said, “Let’s not go.”

David grabs Michelle’s hand. “Oh, come on. It’s not scary.” They start to run into trailhead. “It’ll be fine.”

Michelle tries to hold back but gives into the pressure from David and follows him on to the trail. About twenty yards in, they stop running and start to walk. Michelle stops. “Listen,” she whispers, “Did you hear that?”

David listens. “I don’t hear anything. Come on.” David grabs Michelle’s hand again and they continue to walk down the trail.

About fifty yards in, Michelle hears the noise again. This time, it was louder and closer. “Wait,” she says, “You had to of heard that.”

David stops with Michelle. “Yeah, I did.” They both look around but see nothing. “Let’s keep going.”

A few hundred feet more down the trail they come upon a gruesome site. Just off the trail laid, what David thought to be, several pieces of a human body. He could only make this deduction based on the half-eaten skull that laid next to a bare arm. “Oh my god.” David kneels to get a better look.

Michelle now becomes frantic. “David, come on. We have to get out of here!” She lifts her head as she hears the sound that had been following them since the beginning of the trail. “David… I’m scared. Come on. We have to get out of here, NOW!”

Your turn. Finish the story: