“Where does the love of God go when the waves turn the minutes to hours…..?” – a quote from Gordon Lightfoot’s “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”
I’m not sure for how long I had before the sun would come up, but my mind went from analyzing the shock and horror of the night’s events, to thinking of Spaceboy, and then finally of where he had gotten lost in his own storm; in his mind. During the 12 to 14 hours (about the duration of the above referenced song oddly enough) we spent mostly submerged that night with only corpses to keep us company, I finally recognized something that I had seen in Spaceboy in Somalia in the instant I say the “light” went out in his eyes, like no one was home. I felt it in myself, only now recognizing it for the first time, though it had been there all along, just affecting me differently. It’s ok if your glass cracks a little. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re broken.
I was overwhelmed by a sense of doom that I can’t explain, but I was thankful we were all alive. Though I wasn’t sure how. For the last hours of the night, I couldn’t find the love of God as the waves turned the minutes to hours, because my mind had gone searching somewhere else, somewhere else I had been and never really left, somewhere God wasn’t readily found; Somalia. The climate here (minus the hurricane), the people, the death, the chaotic nature of this place, all pointed to Somalia in my mind, where I had been reborn, behind the gun.
~ Bravo Charles
Excerpt from “The Prelude”, a chapter in “Behind the Gun”,
Copyright© Bravo Charles & Behind the Gun 2016