Colonel was little more than opening his eyes each morning. His face was expressionless and blank throughout the day, just as it had been through the night. Occasionally Seven would see the corners of the old man’s mouth lift in what he believed to be an attempt to smile. It didn’t happen often but when it did, Seven would excitingly begin a one-sided conversation with him. In those times of hope he expected the Colonel to resume his life like nothing was ever taken from him. Days turned into months and the old man’s spirit remained vacant.
Seven spent the warm summer afternoons on the porch with his hero. Gran compiled a photograph album of her husband’s life. The aged photos, mostly black and white, documented the great man’s existence on Earth from childhood to his military retirement. It was a thick leather-bound book that contained a life of adventure, excitement, and the glories and disparities of war. Seven occupied the summer on the porch next to the Colonel, vividly reviewing the chapters of the Colonel’s life. He never got tired of it. Seven would turn the pages and repeat the story attached to each photo just as the Colonel had explained it to him throughout his childhood. Oftentimes, the old man would just sit in the chair, staring aimlessly in one direction, but on occasion he would direct his eyes down at the book and he almost seemed to be paying attention to Seven’s presentation. He knew the Colonel was gone but in those brief moments he found hope that the great man was still somewhere inside the grayed, wrinkled frame.
Time skated along and the routine stayed the same. Seven mastered the use of his artificial limb. The romance between him and Tiffany progressed at an acceptable speed. They found themselves scheduling trips back and forth to see each other and the relationship bloomed. Both felt a sense of comfort and freeness while in the other’s presence. Things were going as well as could be expected. The Colonel still lived in a void. The small windows of hope for consciousness came and went and eventually all hope faded. Seven accepted that there was nothing left of the man and it was his obligation to care for the empty shell until his passing. Seven and Gran secretly hoped that the end day would not be far