Jordie’s World, Part 2

Chapter 4

Jordie slumped in her seat at the back of the classroom, trying to make herself invisible. At ten years old, she was all too aware of how different she was from the other kids. Her too-small sweater, a hand-me-down from Kelly, rode up her wrists, exposing the pale skin beneath. She tugged at the sleeves, a futile attempt to make them longer.

A burst of giggles from a group of girls near the front of the class made Jordie's stomach clench. She caught Sarah Miller's eye as the girl glanced back, whispering something to her friends. Their eyes darted towards Jordie, followed by more laughter.

What are they saying about me now?

Mrs. Henderson's voice cut through Jordie's thoughts. "Jordie, can you tell us the answer to question five?"

Jordie's mind went blank. She hadn't been paying attention, too caught up in her worries. "I... I'm not sure," she mumbled, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Mrs. Henderson's brow furrowed.

The bell rang, signaling lunch. Jordie's shoulders sagged with relief as she grabbed her worn backpack and shuffled towards the cafeteria. The smell of today's hot lunch - pizza - made her mouth water, but she walked past the line, clutching her paper bag lunch.

Finding an empty table in the corner, Jordie sat down and opened her bag. The sight of the slightly squashed peanut butter sandwich made her heart sink. She glanced around, watching other kids bite into steaming slices of pizza or open colorful lunch boxes filled with treats.

As she nibbled on her sandwich, Jordie felt something odd. She felt a cold or wet spot on the sole of her foot. Looking down, she noticed a small hole forming in the sole of her sneaker. A wave of dread washed over her. New shoes were out of the question - she knew there was no money for that.

For a moment, she considered asking Mom about it later. The image of her mother's worried face, surrounded by bills, flashed in her mind. No, she couldn't add to that burden. She'd just have to make these shoes last a little longer.

"Hey, Jordie," a voice called out. She looked up to see her brother Skip approaching, his own paper bag lunch in hand. At eight years old, Skip was small for his age, his clothes just as worn as Jordie's.

"Can I sit with you?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope.

Jordie nodded, grateful for the company. As Skip sat down, she noticed a small tear in the knee of his jeans. "What happened?" she asked, gesturing to the rip.

Skip shrugged, a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. "Fell during recess. Don't tell Mom, okay? She'll worry."

Jordie felt a pang in her chest. Even at his young age, Skip was already trying to protect their parents from additional stress. "I won't," she promised. "Maybe we can ask Kelly to help patch it up later."

The rest of the school day dragged on, each minute feeling like an hour. When the final bell rang, Jordie didn't join the rush of excited kids heading for the doors. Instead, she waited, watching from the window as the crowd thinned out.

Only when the schoolyard was nearly empty did Jordie start her walk home. She took a longer route, skirting around the corner where Tommy and his friends usually hung out. Their taunts still rang in her ears from yesterday: "Hey, Goodwill! Nice shoes - did you fish them out of a dumpster?"

The late autumn wind bit through her windbreaker and thin sweater as she trudged along the cracked sidewalk. Fallen leaves crunched under her feet, their cheerful colors a stark contrast to her mood.

"Jordie! Wait up!" Donny's voice called from behind her. She turned to see her fourteen-year-old brother jogging to catch up, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked as he fell into step beside her. "You look kinda down."

Jordie shrugged, not wanting to burden her brother with her problems. But Donny, more perceptive than she gave him credit for, nudged her gently. "Come on, squirt. What's eating you?"

She sighed, lifting her foot and gesturing toward the new hole in the sole of her worn shoes. "Just... everything's old and falling apart. I wish..."

"You wish we had more," Donny finished for her, his voice soft. "Yeah, I get it. It's tough sometimes."

They walked in silence for a moment before Donny spoke again. "You know, Mark told me once that it's not about what we have, but who we are. Said that's what really matters."

Jordie looked up at her brother, surprised. Although it was rare for Donny to mention Mark, she knew he looked up to Mark as much as she did.

"He's right," Donny continued, ruffling Jordie's hair affectionately. "And you, little sis, are pretty great, old shoes and all."

Jordie felt a warmth spread through her chest, grateful for her Donny's words. As they approached their house, she saw their mom through the kitchen window, bent over a pile of papers at the table. The familiar sight of worry lines etched on her mother's forehead made Jordie's chest tighten.

Inside, Jordie found her mom surrounded by her checkbook and a small pile of mail. Obviously bills. Some of the envelopes had been opened and others waited for Jordie's mom to get to them. The frown lines around her mouth made Jordie's chest tighten even more.

"Hi, sweetie," her mom said, attempting a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "How was school?"

“Fine. The usual," Jordie mumbled, not wanting to add to her mother's worries.

She headed to her room, dropping her backpack on the floor. As she changed out of her school clothes, Jordie caught sight of herself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at her looked small, worn, unremarkable - just like everything else in their lives.

Shaking off the thought, Jordie grabbed the laundry basket. Chores wouldn't do themselves, and she knew every little bit she did helped.

Someone, probably Kelly, had already separated a load of whites, and Jordie dropped detergent into the washer and absent-mindedly shoved the whites into the washer. The machine was at least fifteen years old and had seen better days. Mark and her dad had taken it apart a couple of Saturdays ago to replace a broken belt that had caused the clothes drum to stop.

As she sorted through the clothes to start a new load of clothes in the washer, a flash of burgundy caught her eye. It was Mark's old football jersey. Jordie pulled it out, running her fingers over the faded number. She buried her face in the soft fabric, inhaling deeply. It still smelled faintly of Mark - a mix of his deodorant and the crisp autumn air.

For a moment, Jordie was transported back to happier times. She remembered the day of her first spelling bee in third grade. She had been so nervous, but Mark had knelt down in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, his eyes locked on hers.

"You've got this, squirt," he'd said, his voice full of confidence. "Just take a deep breath and picture the words in your head, like we practiced."

She'd won second place that day, beaming with pride as Mark had swung her around in celebration.

Clutching the jersey to her chest, Jordie felt a familiar ache. She wished Mark were here right now, not working a swing shift at the grocery store. If he were here, he'd know just what to say to make everything better.

"Jordie? Can you come help me with dinner?" her mom called from the kitchen.

With a sigh, Jordie put the jersey back in the basket. "Coming, Mom!"

As she headed to the kitchen, Donny brushed past her, his own face etched with the strain of their circumstances. "Hey, squirt," he said, ruffling her hair as he passed, an echo of Mark's affection in the gesture.

Jordie managed a small smile. It wasn't the same as having Mark there, but it helped a little.

The weight of the family's struggles settled in the hollow of her shoulder blades as she continued with her chores. Thoughts of Mark's uncanny ability to cheer her up were a bittersweet comfort in the fading afternoon light. She squared her shoulders, determined to persevere, just like he'd always taught her to do. Jordie was determined to be a little sister worthy of Mark, and a big sister that Skip and the others could look up to, just as she looked up to Mark.

Chapter 5

The summer evening air was thick and warm as Jordie, now 11, sat on the porch steps. The wood was rough beneath her bare legs, but she hardly noticed. Her attention was fixed on Mark, who sat beside her, uncharacteristically quiet. The cicadas buzzed in the background, their rhythmic sound punctuating the unusual silence between them.

Something was different tonight. Mark had asked her to come outside after dinner, saying he needed to talk to her. The serious look in his eyes had made Jordie's stomach flutter with nervousness.

"What's wrong, Mark?" she finally asked, unable to bear the silence any longer.

Mark took a deep breath, then turned to face her. "Squirt, I've got something important to tell you." He paused, his eyes meeting hers. "I've decided to join the Marines. I already talked it over with Mom and Dad, but I wanted to tell you before I told the other kids."

The words hit Jordie like a physical blow. She felt the air leave her lungs as if she'd been punched. "The... Marines?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mark nodded, his expression a mix of excitement and determination. "Yeah. I've been thinking about it for a while now. It's a chance for a better future, you know? I can serve our country, and..." he hesitated, then added softly, "And I can help our family financially."

Jordie's mind raced. The Marines meant Mark would be leaving. He'd be gone, maybe far away, maybe even in danger. Her throat tightened at the thought. She remembered the hole in her shoe, the worry lines on her mother's face, the constant struggle to make ends meet. Was this Mark's way of trying to fix it all?

"But... but what about college?" she asked, grasping for any reason he might stay. "You've been saving up, working at the grocery store..."

Mark smiled gently. "The Marines will help pay for that too, after I serve. This is really a good opportunity, Jordie."

She could see the resolve in his eyes, the excitement about his future plans. Part of her wanted to beg him to stay, to not leave her behind. But she remembered all the times he'd encouraged her to be brave, to face challenges head-on.

Swallowing hard, Jordie forced herself to nod. "I... I understand," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Mark's face softened. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Hey, this doesn't change anything between us, you know that, right? I'll always be your big brother. I'll write to you all the time, we can set up times to talk on the phone, and I'll come visit whenever I can."

Jordie leaned into him, breathing in his familiar scent. "Promise?"

"I promise, squirt. No matter where I am, I'll always be there for you."

They sat in silence for a while, watching as the sky slowly darkened and the first stars appeared. Mark pointed up at the twinkling lights. "See those stars? Whenever you miss me or feel alone, just look up at them. I'll be seeing the same stars, no matter where I am."

Jordie nodded, trying to memorize the patterns of the constellations Mark was showing her. She thought about how much she'd miss these moments - just sitting with Mark, feeling safe and loved.

"What about Donny and Kelly and Skip?" Jordie asked suddenly. "How are they going to take it?"

Mark sighed. "I'm going to tell them tomorrow. It won't be easy, but I think they'll understand. Maybe you can help them, you know? Be there for them like I've tried to be there for you."

Jordie felt a surge of pride at Mark's words, mixed with sadness and a growing sense of her responsibilities to her siblings. "I'll try," she promised. It seemed as though the night grew cooler.

Mark reached into his pocket. "I've got something for you," he said, pulling out a small box.

Jordie opened it carefully. Inside was a delicate silver necklace with a star-shaped pendant.

"So that you'll remember the night stars that we'll always share, wherever I am, wherever you are," Mark said softly, helping her fasten it around her neck. "And to remind you that I'm always with you, even when I'm far away."

Jordie touched the star pendant, feeling its cool surface against her skin. She looked up at Mark, her eyes shining with unshed tears and love. "I'll never take it off," she promised.

From inside the house, they heard the sound of their mother calling for Skip to get ready for bed, followed by Donny's laughter at something on TV. The familiar sounds of their family life suddenly seemed precious to Jordie, knowing that soon it would change.

As they headed back inside, Jordie's heart felt heavy with the knowledge of Mark's impending departure. But mixed with the sadness was her pride in her brother and a determination to be as brave as he was teaching her to be.

"Mark?" she said, pausing at the door. "I'm scared, but... I'm proud of you too."

Mark's smile was a mixture of gratitude and his own hint of fear. "Thanks, squirt. That means a lot." He ruffled her hair affectionately. "Now, let's go inside before Mom starts wondering where we've been."

As they stepped back into the warmth of their home, Jordie felt the weight of Mark's news settling on her shoulders. But she stood a little straighter, determined to be strong - for Mark, for her family, and for herself.

Two weeks later, the entire family gathered on the front porch in the early morning light. The air was crisp, hinting at the approaching fall. Mark stood at the bottom of the steps, his green nylon duffel bag at his feet. It was stuffed with the few personal items the Marine Corps allowed: some clothes, toiletries, and a small photo album Jordie had helped him put together.

Mom fussed over Mark's jacket, smoothing non-existent wrinkles. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she managed a watery smile. "You call us as soon as you can, you hear?"

Mark nodded, smiling and hugging her tightly. "I will, Mom. I promise."

Dad stood nearby, his usual stoic expression softened with pride and worry. He clasped Mark's shoulder firmly. “Well, we’d better get a move on. You’re supposed to meet the recruiting sergeant at the Military Entrance Processing Station in South Seattle at 11:00.”

Donny, trying to act tough, gave Mark a playful punch on the arm. "Show those drill sergeants what a Goodwin can do."

Kelly hugged Mark fiercely, whispering something in his ear that made him smile. Skip, not fully understanding the significance of the moment, clung to Mark's leg.

Finally, Mark turned to Jordie. She stood on the porch step, the fingertips of one hand touching her star necklace, her eyes wide and wet. Mark knelt down to her level, gently wiping a tear that had escaped down her cheek.

"Remember what I told you, squirt. Look at the stars, and I'll be right there with you."

Jordie nodded, throwing her arms around his neck. "I love you, Mark," she whispered.

"I love you too, kiddo. Always."

With a final wave, Mark picked up his duffel bag and climbed into the passenger seat of Dad's old pickup truck. Dad rolled the driver’s window down on the truck and said, “Well, we’re off to the induction center in Seattle. I should be back in a few hours.”

As the engine rumbled to life, the family waved from the porch. Jordie watched the truck disappear down the street, one hand touching the star pendant.

The porch felt emptier than it ever had before, but Jordie stood tall, determined to make her big brother proud. She told herself she would not cry. She looked up at the fading morning stars, feeling a connection to Mark that she knew distance could never break.

Chapter 6

The crisp October air nipped at Jordie's cheeks as she hurried home from school. At fifteen, she'd grown taller, but her frame was still slight, her secondhand clothes hanging loosely on her body. Her hand absently reached for the star pendant around her neck, a habit she'd developed over the years.

As she rounded the corner onto her street, Jordie's steps faltered. An unfamiliar car sat in their driveway - sleek, black, and official-looking. Her heart began to race, a sick feeling settling in her stomach.

Oh God. No. Please, no.

She broke into a run, her backpack thumping against her spine. As she burst through the front door, the silence hit her like a physical force. Then she heard it - her mother's muffled sobs coming from the living room.

Jordie's feet felt like lead as she moved towards the sound. She paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Her parents sat on the couch, her mother's face buried in her hands, her father's arm around her shoulders. His face was ashen, eyes red-rimmed. Two men in crisp Marine dress uniforms stood nearby, their faces solemn.

Time seemed to stop as one of the Marines turned to Jordie. "I'm sorry, miss…"

The rest of his words faded into a dull roar in Jordie's ears. She felt the world tilt sideways, her vision blurring. Mark. Her big brother Mark. Gone.

She didn't remember running to her room, but suddenly she was there, door slamming behind her. Jordie collapsed onto her bed, body shaking with sobs. Her fingers clutched at the star pendant, Mark's voice echoing in her memory.

"Whenever you miss me or feel alone, just look up at them. I'll be seeing the same stars, no matter where I am."

But he wasn't seeing the stars anymore. He was gone, really gone.

Why had the room gotten so cold? She was freezing. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, trying to stop the shivering that seemed to come from deep within her bones.

A soft knock on the door barely registered. "Jordie?" It was Donny's voice, thick with his own grief. "Can I come in?"

She couldn't find her voice to answer, but the door creaked open anyway. Donny sat beside her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. For a moment, they just sat there, their shared sorrow too big for words.

"He can't be gone," Jordie finally whispered. "He promised he'd always be there."

Donny's arm tightened around her. "He is there, squirt. Just... not in the way we thought."

The next few days passed in a blur of grief and disbelief. Relatives arrived, casseroles appeared, and hushed conversations filled the house. Jordie moved through it all in a daze, feeling both numb and raw at the same time.

She found herself taking care of Skip more than usual, helping him understand what had happened. Kelly withdrew into herself, spending hours alone in their shared room. Donny tried to step into Mark's shoes, but Jordie could see the strain it put on him.

The day of the funeral dawned clear and cool. It was one of those Pacific Northwest fall days that seem impossible. The sky was completely clear and a blue that didn't seem real. The maple and birch trees were already turning color and the green leaves were streaked with orange and gold.

Jordie stood with her family, her black dress - borrowed from a cousin - feeling strange and stiff. She watched as the flag-draped casket was carried past, her mind rebelling against the reality of it. The field of blue on the flag covered the head of the casket, over where Mark's left shoulder was.

That can't be Mark. Mark is tall and strong and full of life. He can't fit in that box.

As the chaplain spoke of honor and sacrifice, Jordie's hand crept to her pocket. She fingered the small blue button at the bottom of the pocket - the one from her childhood dress, the one Mark had sewn back on all those years ago.

When the chaplain finished, Jordie heard Taps, but she didn't know where the sound came from. Two uniformed Marines stepped forward and solemnly lifted the flag, and with crisp and precise movements folded the flag. Thirteen folds, representing the number of original colonies. The finished tricorn shape showed only the blue field with stars.

One of the Marines stepped over to Jordie's mom, leaned slightly forward and extended the triangle of the flag. "On behalf of the president of the United States, the United States Marine Corps, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your son's honorable and faithful service."

When it came time to lower the casket, Jordie stepped forward. With trembling fingers, she placed the button on top of the casket. "Goodbye, Mark," she whispered, her voice breaking.

That night, Jordie sat on the porch steps where she and Mark had sat so many times before. She looked up at the stars, remembering all the times she'd done so over the years, imagining Mark looking at the same sky.

Now, the stars seemed colder, more distant. But as she sat there, memories of Mark washed over her - his laugh, his encouragement, his unwavering belief in her. She could almost hear his voice: "You've got this, squirt. Be brave."

Jordie took a deep, shuddering breath. She couldn't bring Mark back, but she could live in a way that would make him proud. She could be brave, just like he'd always taught her to be.

With tears streaming down her face, Jordie made a silent promise to the stars - to Mark. She would face whatever came next with courage. She would make something of herself, for both of them.

As she stood to go inside, Jordie felt a shift within herself. The grief was still there, raw and painful, but alongside it was a new determination. Mark may be gone, but his influence, his love, would always be a part of her.

She touched the star pendant one last time before going inside.