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narrative / section three

Lauren Kay Johnson Inheritance of War, 195
Carrie Brownstein from Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl, 203
George Takei from They Called Us Enemy, 211

Inheritance of War

Lauren Kay Johnson

Lauren Kay Johnson is a veteran of the Afghanistan War and a
writer whose work has appeared in the Atlantic, Glamour, and other
publications. The piece was originally published on the online
journal Drunken Boat in 2016. Courtesy Lauren Kay Johnson

KEY CONTEXT This narrative begins with a description of
Johnson’s mother’s return from “Desert Storm,” which was a war
fought by the United States and other countries against Iraq in 1991.
Johnson herself fought in the United States war in Afghanistan,
which lasted from 2001 to 2021.

don’t remember much from the time Mom snow-crusted ground. My classmates were at
I was at war. I was seven years old; the memo- recess, throwing snowballs, having fun.
ries blur into a fuzzy background, punctuated Despite our proximity to multiple military
by snapshot images of clarity. I know my world bases outside Seattle, we were the only local
expanded that winter. I learned new words like family with a parent deployed. Our neighbors
“Desert Storm,” “Saddam Hussein,” and “Hate.” took turns babysitting and delivering meals. A
Dad pointed out Saudi Arabia on our office yellow ribbon hugged the big maple tree in front
globe. Mom was there, inside the little star that of our elementary school. When she returned,
represented the capital of Riyadh. It didn’t look Mom would cut the ribbon off to a whooping
very far away. chorus of cheers from our classmates. But while
I remember cheese quesadillas — “cheese she was gone it hung there, through rain and
pies” I called them — cooked in the microwave. wind and snow. I saw the ribbon every day, and I
A mom from school served them to us while we hated it.
waited at her house for Dad to pick us up after I remember my sister’s ninth birthday 5
work. party. It was a swimming party. I loved swimming.
I remember crying in bed every night after We rented out the whole pool, and I got to invite
Mom’s tape-recorded voice finished reading a friends, too. We looked happy in the pictures.
bedtime story, and my sister — a more silent Every evening we watched news reports on
griever — shushing me from across our shared TV. It was a new era in broadcasting, the first time
bedroom. I saw the school counselor for a few war received real-time coverage from reporters
weeks. I don’t recall her name or what she on the ground. Where Mom was looked like
looked like, or even what we talked about, but I another planet. They showed awesome footage of
remember staring out her window at the planes taking off from aircraft carriers and
Uncorrected proofs have been used in this sample. 195
Copyright © Bedford, Freeman & Worth Publishers.
Distributed by Bedford, Freeman & Worth Publishers.
For review purposes only. Not for redistribution.

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