Oakdale Ink

May 2026

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”

–Sylvia Plath

“33°54'44.8"N 78°13'44.4"W” by Erin Post

This Point named The Point is the place my Mother lies. 

Not her body of course, but the dust that remained. 

When I watched my mother die I didn’t even cry, 

But that night at The Point my tears could not be contained. 

The Ocean is quite a familiar place you see, 

My joy, my pain, all seen by the sea. 

Staring into the reflection of the water, 

I see my mother,

                           not her daughter. 

I see her ocean blues in every mirror glance, 

I hear the way she talks in every blurring trance. 

Her face, you see, is like staring into the sun. 

 It burns your eyes, but doesn't let you run. 

Yellow, Purple, Blue, 

My mothers face was an unnatural hue. 

Not every day of course, 

Only when she died,

                                 When she became a corpse. 

I ask myself 

    “What did her seven minutes contain?”

Was it my face, my smile, or when I first said her name? 

Was she trying to scream out,

     “NO PLEASE DONT LET ME GO YET”

Or was she ready to go, had her time been well spent? 

So, to The Point I will go to carry myself home. 

I shall spill all my sorrows into the waves. 

When none of these questions I can answer on my own. 

For this Point of the ocean replaces my mothers grave.

“The Sparrow”

It was June 6th when the letter came. Grant Spero never got mail, so when his father came home letter in hand addressed to him with a somber expression on his face, his mother began to sob. This was the saddest Grant had ever seen them. Whatever was in this letter was not good. He opened the letter slowly. 

ORDER TO REPORT FOR INDUCTION

TO GRANT THOMAS SPERO 

The letter felt like a weight in his hands. He reread the letter over and over again. Grant Thomas Spero was to fight in a war. Grant was supposed to leave the only home he had ever known. He was going to Vietnam.

“Thomas! He's only a boy! They can't do this!” His mother cried

“Hes 18 Laura, In Uncle Sam’s eyes he's a grown man.” 

Grant didn't feel like listening to his parents argue about his fate so he went upstairs to his room. When he opened the door he made eye contact with his fathers World War II metals, his grandfathers from WW I. Grant still couldn't believe this was happening. He had just graduated from high school last week. His thoughts were consumed with dorm decorations, college degrees and a career, now all of these things seemed unimportant. He heard the muffled yelling of his parents in the kitchen directly below his room. He walked over to his bed and plopped down on it face down into the pillow. Part of him thought that if he could just sleep he would wake up and none of this would be happening. He was supposed to leave Modesto, California for Fort Ord in a month.

In the month leading up to August 6th, his mother cooked his favorite food, forcing him to eat more than he could.  His father barely said a word to him. Part of Grant wondered if this was how his grandfather felt when all three of his sons were shipped off to Europe. Only his father returned. His father took him out shooting one day.

“This is just the basics, they will teach you the rest in bootcamp.” his father said

“What is it like? War.”

“It's the most horrible thing in the world.” His father sighed “Your grandfather was in the army, so when war broke out again I enlisted. My brothers Grant and Rodger enlisted with me. You know what happened.” 

“I promise. I will make it home.”

“You better. Your mom would be very upset.”

We got into his father’s beat up Ford Ranchero and rode home in silence. When they pulled into the driveway he said,“I’m sorry I couldn't protect you from this. Man to man, I never got over the guilt of losing my two younger brothers. I couldn't imagine losing my only son too.”

Grant didn't know how to respond so he said nothing.

August 6th came like a large wave that would crush Grant and pull him under into a world far away from home. They got into his father’s Ford Rancho. Grant in the middle like he had when he was younger. He had not yet begun to feel like a man, simply a boy trying on a costume. His boyish features and dark brown brown hair stuck out. The uniform hung off his slender body giving it an oversized look. The boots fit well but were extremely uncomfortable. They were made to withstand the jungle he would have to tread through in a short eight weeks. 

At the bus station his parents walked him to an area where other boys who looked just like him were also being seen off by their parents. A drill sergeant read off names, mothers cried, girlfriends kissed soldiers lovingly. 

“You better call and write as soon as you can.” His mother said, trying not to cry. He hugged his mother and shook his father’s hand. Grant Thomas Spero was a man. The bus ride to Fort Ord was decent, he got the window seat which gave him something to focus on other than what would be happening to him once he reached his destination. Time was a blur once he got to basic. He couldn't remember much. Everything blended into one continuous cycle. Wake up, eat, drills, eat, drills, eat and then sleep. It would be two weeks before he made his first friend. At breakfast one day he sat next to a loud blonde named Caleb Williams.

“Hi, I'm Caleb. I don't believe we've met.” He stuck out his hand for Grant to shake.

“Grant,” he said, shaking Caleb’s hand.

“This here is Robin.” Caleb said, leaning back to show a tall boy with a mean expression. The ginger didn't give Grant a slight glance and then went back to eating his food.

“Robin’s a little shy, don't mind him.” Caleb said, rubbing Robin’s hat into his head.

“Would you mind not doing that”

“Come on Robin, say hi to our new friend here!”

“You don't want to be friends with this guy, Sparrow.”

“It's Spero.” Grant said, trying to sound as tough as possible.

“You act like a fragile little bird, I'm surprised they haven't broken you yet.”

“Just because I'm quiet doesn't mean I can't do things. Your bad attitude isn't going to get you anywhere.”

“Maybe you're right, little bird, it landed me here didn't it.”

Grant didn't feel like dealing with Robin any longer. Everything about him irritated Grant. His smug attitude, the way he felt like he could say anything he wanted and all those stupid nicknames. The thing that irritated Grant the most was how perfect he looked. He remembered noticing him the first day they had arrived. Messy ginger hair being buzzed off. He hadn't seen Robin again until now. He continued on talking to Caleb. Throwing dirty looks over his shoulder towards Robin. Robin, however, couldn't have cared less.

As the weeks passed and the days were counting down towards their deployment to Vietnam. Grant, Caleb and Robin were never seen without each other. Caleb was really the thing that held them together. Robin has been nicer, well as nice as Robin could be. That stupid nickname had stuck though. He was Caleb and Robin’s “Sparrow.” Robin and Grant were Caleb's birds. On the day when they could call home, boys lined up to call their girlfriends, mothers and fathers. Robin hung back which seemed strange to Grant. Didn't he have someone to call?

“I bet your girlfriend misses you,” Grant said.

“I don't have one and there's no one at home who misses me.”

Grant felt both sad and relieved at this. He didn't know how he could be happy with this information. Part of Grant had been imagining a girl who was kind, thoughtful and funny. Someone Robin would like. Sometimes that girl looked like him and sometimes he was her.

“I bet that's not true.” He finally responded. 

“Why don’t you call your girlfriend Sparrow, if you're so worried about it,” Robin said angrily.

“I don't have one either. Girlfriends aren't really my thing.” Grant regretted it as soon as he said it. Robin looked deep in thought and then said, “They aren't really my thing either.”

Grant smiled. Robin looked like he was planning something. That's all that needed to be said between them.

When Grant finally called his parents it made him excited for his life after. After bootcamp, after Vietnam, after he survived. 

“When we come home you need to come to my parents for dinner!” Grant said enthusiastically.

“Are you sure they'd want me there?” Robin said with a sad but hopeful look on his face.

“Of course they would!”

“Can I tell you a secret, Sparrow?”

“Yeah what is it?”

“You're my little piece of hope out here.”

Grant smiled as he always did. This time, Robin smiled back.