Finally letting me go, wiping her eyes with tissues my father got me, she immediately went into overdrive. “Right, I must call your sister. And your grandparents. And the whole family. Bill, tomorrow, barbecue. John, do your friends know you’re here? We’ll have to let them know. They’d love to see you.”
“Whoa! Calm down, Mum. I’ve just walked in the door, I’m a little jet-lagged here.”
“And what is that you’re wearing anyway?”
“My uniform.”
“Uniform? For what?”
“Um…” I glanced between the pair of them. “I joined the French Foreign Legion ten years ago.”
Mum started to laugh. Dad just stared at me in shock. “You what?” Mum asked in disbelief.
“When I packed my shit that day and left, I drove to the airport. Dumped my car there. Walked into the terminal, booked a flight to Paris via Hong Kong and joined up within the week.”
“But that’s insane!” Mum exclaimed, “Why on earth would you…” She trailed off as she remembered that other morning when I’d returned. “Oh…”
“Yeah. Felt like a good decision at the time.”
“Well, I guess we can understand not exactly telling us what you were up to,” Dad said, “I’m assuming telling us you were an engineer that it was in the Legion?”
“Yeah. I’m also really struggling not to speak French right now. I’ve spent the better part of the last decade speaking it rather than English.”
“French girlfriend?” Mum asked.
“I’ve had a couple but I’ve been single for a while now. I haven’t brought anyone with me, nor left anyone behind. Nor left any kids behind, before you ask.”
“You hungry?”
“Starving. Gasping for a drink too.”
Dad and I took a stool each as Mum prepared dinner while communicating with the family. My sister arrived within an hour with her husband and two kids in tow. Spent the same length of time hugging me as our mother before I was introduced to my brother-in-law, niece and nephew. Both sets of grandparents arrived soon after. Grandmothers cried. Grandfathers shook my hand and I saw the respect in their eyes, and in their firm grips. They might not have recognised the uniform, but they knew I’d served. That was enough in their eyes.
Sitting down for the first meal with the family felt a little strange. More than once, I answered a question in fluent French, only realising when they all stared at me, wondering what the hell I was saying. I was now fluent in English, French, and could speak another three languages to a passable degree, not that it mattered back home. Speaking French would be enough to earn a few glances and who knows what else.
“It’ll take a while to stop doing that,” I joked, “It didn’t actually take me that long to get used to it, but a couple of years to be completely fluent. I now think in French so speaking English is weird.”
“Whip out the French and you’ll be a hit with the ladies,” my sister, Emily, suggested. She was three years older than I was, “So why the Legion?”
“Because of what happened the morning after the formal.” (We call the end of school function a ‘formal’ in Australia. Or we used to. Maybe they call it a ‘prom’ now too?)
“Oh…” Same reaction as Mum. “Well, I guess I could say that was a drastic reaction but if you’re happy with how life has worked out.”
“I have no regrets and loved every minute I served, Mum,” I replied, smiling broadly, “The only reason I left is that I’ve found myself missing home hitting the ten-year mark of service. If I realise I’ve made a mistake, I can always return.” Mum lifted her head and met my eyes, instant concern at the idea that I’d leave again. “I’m sure I’ll find a good enough reason to remain at home, Mum.”
The house had changed during the time I’d been away. My sister had already left home by the time I’d skedaddled to France, so our rooms had been turned into an office and guest room. Dad said there were a couple of boxes of my things in the garage, but a lot of other things had been binned. I told him not to worry, I’d figure something out quickly enough.
After a shower, looking in the mirror and seeing the scars that remained from action I’d seen, I put on a shirt and shorts, not wanting my parents to ask where they’d been earned. Not yet anyway. Mum hugged me again for a good ten minutes before we headed to bed, my father giving me a briefer embrace, though I could see he was choked up at the same time.
“Good to have you home, son,” he said softly, “Thanks for coming home alive.”
“No worries, Dad. Bastards did their best. Story for another day though.”
The bed was almost brand new and incredibly comfortable. Little wonder I was fast asleep within a couple of minutes, though I’m sure the jet-lag didn’t help. Waking before everyone else in the house was amusing, used to rising early after all the training, heading out into the backyard to go through my usual exercise regime. I thought I was fit when I’d joined up. I learned I knew nothing within a week of basic training.
Mum was cooking breakfast when I headed back inside bare-chested, running a towel over me to wipe up the sweat. She glanced at me and blushed as I was far more muscular and broader than when I’d left. Her eyes lingered on a couple of prominent scars. “I survived, Mum. It’s okay,” I said, walking to give her a hug, kissing the top of her head.
“Hungry? And do you want a coffee?”
“Yes to both, please. I’ll have a quick shower first though.”
“Everything will be on the table when you’re done.”
I’d returned home without any real plan of what I was going to do. I assumed I could find a job in some sort of engineering field. Ten years as an engineer in the Legion would surely help open at least some doors. Dad suggested we have a barbecue after I’d zoned out in front of the television for an hour or so, not really watching or paying attention, mostly away with my thoughts.
As he was busy cooking up, my sister appeared with her family as it was a weekend, so I assumed a family barbecue wasn’t too unusual, but my return gave it greater significance. Hearing a knock at the door, Mum asked me to get it. Opening it, I recognised my three best mates immediately. They were older, of course, but I couldn’t miss those grins I remembered.
“Fucking hell, John!” Mark stated before he offered his hand. We shook for a moment before I stepped forward to embrace him. I heard him go ‘oof’ for a moment. “Jesus wept, you made of concrete now or something?”
Laughing, I took a few more seconds to embrace my friend, something I knew he would have appreciated, before I stepped back, amused I was now taller and broader than the three of them. I’d had a late growth spurt at nineteen that gave me three more inches of height. Brett was next to shake my hand, a quick bro-hug, with Chris the last to shake my hand and a quick embrace.
“What the fuck have you been up to?” Mark asked, “I mean, apart from the occasional email…”
I could understand why he trailed off, noticing the stares of my three friends. I’d left in such a hurry ten years earlier… “Come inside, guys. Guess I have a story to share.”
Grabbing a beer for each of us, we walked outside to be greeted by my parents. Mum had always liked my friends, and I assumed she hadn’t seen them in a while, hugging all three of them, much to my amusement and their slight embarrassment. Dad shook their hands, while my sister hadn’t seen them since the day I’d left, so they spent time catching up. It was only when we were all sat down that they finally asked the question they’d no doubt spent ten years pondering.