Private Rocket
Chapter 08 - Private Rocket
Noah named the plastic toy soldier Private Rocket because Daniel said all serious soldiers needed ridiculous code names.
Private Rocket had been everywhere: bathtub edge, school backpack, pillow fort, grocery cart, doctor’s office, under Anna’s foot at 6:00 a.m. on a Tuesday when she said a word Daniel told Noah never to repeat.
Now Private Rocket stood guard beside the folded flag.
Noah placed him there after dinner, though dinner was only toast and the soup Mrs. Alvarez left. Anna watched from the kitchen doorway as her son positioned the toy carefully on the table.
“What’s he doing?” she asked.
“Guarding Daddy.”
Anna swallowed.
The folded flag sat in the center of the table, triangle sharp, colors bright under the warm kitchen light. The house around it seemed quieter than ever. Not peaceful. Listening.
Noah leaned close to the toy.
“You have to be brave,” he whispered. “But not too brave because Mom needs help.”
Anna covered her mouth.
Daniel had written, Let people help.
Children hear things even when you think they do not.
Later that night, Noah refused to sleep in his room. Anna tried routine first. Pajamas. Toothbrush. Story. Night-light. But when she turned to leave, his face collapsed.
“What if more soldiers come?”
Anna sat on the bed.
“No more soldiers tonight.”
“What if they bring another flag?”
The question struck so hard she had to breathe before answering.
“There is only one Daddy.”
Noah nodded, but fear remained.
So Anna slept on the floor beside his bed with a blanket over her shoulders and one hand raised so he could hold her fingers through the dark.
May you like
Private Rocket stayed downstairs with the flag.
On duty.
