Philip and Mary had just returned home after attending Paul’s wedding, their common friend, Ronald’s son. Ever since Paul’s mother had succumbed to cancer a few year’s ago, Mary had become almost a second mother to him.

 ‘Such a nice wedding. Georgia is so lucky to have found someone like Paul,’ Mary said. She stood in front of the mirror in the hall, admiring her flowing, cream color chiffon gown.

 ‘And I am lucky to have you,’ Philip said. He came from behind, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the neck.

 ‘I hope Shawn gets married too…some day,’ Mary said wistfully.

 ‘Don’t worry hun. Our son will come home any time now,’ Philip said. He placed his chin on her shoulder and looked at her in the mirror.

 ‘It’s just not fair. How can one man decide the fate of millions? Who is he to declare war and send my son to that god-forbidden place like Afghanistan?’ Mary said. Her face was creased with rage.

 ‘Mary, we’ve talked about this. It was needed at that time. Did you expect US to sit like a handicap and watch that Paki bastard destroy our country? I admire President Bush for having the balls to do what he did.’ Philip removed his hands from around Mary, went about folding the sleeves of his shirt.      

 ‘Well, go and live with your Bush then. He's the reason why our son has been away from us for seven years now, the reason why he won’t get married. I don’t understand his devotion towards the country that sent him to that hell hole. He puts his life at risk every day and for what? And we in this age have to live alone.’ Mary turned towards Philip and looked at him with anguish.  

 ‘Mary please stop being stupid. If we hadn’t attacked his country back, God knows how many more Americans he would’ve killed?’ Philip began undoing the sleeves he’d just rolled up.

 ‘No matter what you say Philip, I can never bring myself to buy into his reason for attacking Afghanistan.’ Mary moved towards the stairs that led to her bedroom.

 ‘But that's where he lives. Forget it. There is no point talking to you. My son makes me proud. I wish I could get to kick some terrorist ass.’ Philip punched the air like a boxer.

 ‘Enough Philip. Stop it. I am tired. I am going to bed. And if you are able to get rid of all that hatred in your heart, you can too,’ Mary said, and made her way upstairs. 

 ‘I am going to watch some news and get some updates on the war situation.’ Philip sat on the couch and put his feet up on the table.

 ‘Sure. See how many people were unnecessarily killed....Is that your phone ringing by the way? It could be Shawn,’ Mary said, and came back down the stairs.

 ‘You are right, it is Shawn,’ Philip said, while he took his phone out of his jacket pocket. 

 ‘Hey Shawn, what’s up my boy?’ He pressed the phone hard against his ears...‘I can’t hear anything Mary, just gunshots.’ Philip closed his other ear with his index finger to help hearing.

 ‘Oh my God. Is he ok?’ Mary pressed her ear against the phone as well.

 ‘They are coming, they are coming in. Take your position boys,’ someone said in an urgent voice on the other side. 

  ‘They are coming in?’ Philip looked at Mary and raised his palm more like a question. 

 ‘Who is coming in Philip? Who is coming in?’ Mary shook Philip by his shoulder.

 ‘I don’t know Mary. I am not there am I?’

    Mary snatched the phone from Philip’s hand. 

 ‘Hello? Shawn. Hello. Hello. Hello. I don’t think he can hear me.’

 ‘Sir Tony’s hurt. We need help. Quick,’ a younger voice was the speaker this time.

 ‘Somebody take him back into the tent,’ the same robust voice replied.  

 ‘More Ammo. Ammo!’ someone said. It was apparent that the situation was getting out of control. 

 ‘Hello Shawn? Talk to me Shawn,’ Mary said, screaming and pleading at the same time.

 ‘Is he saying anything?’ Philip asked and pressed his ear against the phone.

 ‘No, I hear bombs, oh my God, oh my God. I hope he is fine.’ Mary got up and started pacing around the room.

 ‘Of course he's fine honey.’ Philip said following her.

 ‘How do you know Philip?’ she said, suddenly stopping and looking at him.

 ‘Shawn?’ she spoke again into the phone

 ‘Don’t panic Mary. He's fine. I know he's fine,’ Philip said, clasping his hands and rubbing them together.  

 ‘The bastards are using rocket-propelled grenades,’ a new voice bellowed on the other side.

 ‘That was Shawn. I heard him speak right now. Shawn?’ Mary pressed the receiver harder to her mouth. 

 ‘What is he saying? Give me the phone, give me the phone,’ Philip said, and tried pulling it away from her.

 ‘Something about grenades. No I am not giving you the phone,’ Mary said, and slapped his hand.

 ‘They are attacking us and then hiding in their caves like fucking rats. We need to smoke them out of their bunkers. I want you all to press forward.’ It was the same male voice that gave the orders.

 ‘We underestimated their strength Sergeant. I believe there over 2,000 of ‘em and they are getting reinforcements. We might have a problem.’ Another voice spoke this time in a slightly foreign accent.   

 ‘None of my men are backing out of this. We are going to fight these bastards and show them what we are made of,’ the male ordered again.  

 ‘Yes Sergeant,’ Shawn said.

‘That was Shawn again. They're going to attack the terrorists, but they are more in number it seems,’ Mary looked at Philip for a second and went back to the phone.

‘Alright!’ Philip said cheerfully. ‘Go for it Shawn. Kick some ass.’

‘Philip. They are terrorists. They are animals. Our son is in there. What is wrong with you?’ Mary bawled.

‘He's in the army. It’s his job,’ Philip said and gestured as if he was holding a gun.

‘Sergeant why don’t we split up in groups of fifty and attack isolated posts and split again in groups of ten if they attack?’ Shawn said.

‘It was Shawn. He is suggesting something to his senior. Shawn? Talk to me. Hello? Hello? Hel…?’       

‘What happened Mary?’

‘It got disconnected.’

‘Call him again.’

   When Mary dialed Shawn’s number she kept getting a busy tone. Mary and Philip couldn’t sleep that night. They kept trying the number every half an hour, taking turns. After a sleepless night, an anxious morning, and repeated calls, they finally got through to their son in the afternoon.  

 ‘Hello. Shawn? Shawn, Shawn, Shawn.’ Mary broke down. ‘Are you OK? What happened? Were they too many of them? Was anybody injured…killed? Is everything alright there?’

 ‘Mom, mom calm down. What are you talking about? Nothing happened,’ Shawn said.     

 ‘You’d called yesterday right? But you didn’t talk to us. We only heard bombs and gunfire in the background. We got really scared. Tim came to my mind. He was such a nice boy. I thought the same would happen to you and we'll never see you again,’ she said sobbing. ‘And before we could hear anything else, the phone got disconnected.’

 ‘Really? You heard all that?’ Shawn said embarrassedly. 

 ‘Yeah.’

 ‘I don’t know how. I didn’t call you guys.’

 ‘Then how did it happen?’ Mary asked.

 ‘I don’t know mom.’

 ‘Give me the phone. Give-me-the-phone,’ Philip said, grunting every word.

 ‘Here talk to your dad. He's standing on my head,’ Mary said, and shoved the phone into his hand.     

 ‘Shawn. Son. Are you fine? How many of those bastards did you kill?’ Philip said, trying to act macho, once it was evident that Shawn was alright.

 ‘Dad I am fine. We did manage to kill most of them.’

 ‘That’s my boy. But how did you manage to call us amidst all that chaos?’

 ‘It must’ve redialed or something. The button must’ve pressed up against the ground. I am sorry you guys had to hear those things,’ Shawn said apologetically.

 ‘It’s alright son. You take care now. You mother wants to say goodbye. By the way I’d told her not to worry,’ he said and rolled his eyes.

 ‘Bye son. You take care and call me soon.’

 'Thank God he is fine.’ Philip grabbed a beer from the fridge and turned on the TV. Mary looked at Shawn’s picture sitting on the mantle shelf above the fire place before going to her room.