The entire family is in chaos. It's been three long years since anyone experienced true joy. Every day, Wendy and her three kids, Rex, Benny, and Cynthia, took turns sitting in front of the television, anxiously listening to the news and watching every passing figure.
Each time the doorbell rang, their hearts would skip a beat. Could it be him? They would wonder.
Mr. Wackson joined the Yakanda war just before it ended. He wasn't trained and didn't know the basics of a war field. He was one of the men forced into the wagon by the soldiers because they were running out of troops. They were given guns and taught how to shoot, but nobody ever told them how to dodge a bullet or run when the enemy had the upper hand.
Mr. Wack and others were not allowed access to mobile phones, so he couldn't call home or hear any news from the outside world.
So many things happened during that time, like losing more than half of the soldiers after every encounter with the enemy, bringing in more young and able men to the war front, and even later teenagers. Mass burials became a daily occurrence in the camp.
Mr. Wack wondered why the government couldn't just give up. It was clear they were already losing. But he couldn't blame them; after all, they weren't the ones fighting. It was the poor masses who were turned into soldiers overnight.
"We need more soldiers!" the deputy in charge of the armed forces would announce every day, and more young men would be sent to the battlefield.
After countless casualties and when they had run out of male citizens, they finally surrendered to their enemies, and the war came to an end.
All the soldiers were rewarded and asked to return home. Every family with a loved one who fought in the war eagerly anticipated the return of their husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, and neighbors.
Some anticipation was short-term because they either received news of their loved ones' deaths or their loved ones fought and conquered, returning safely. However, for the Wackson family, the anticipation was long-term.
They hadn't received any news about Mr. Wackson's fate, nor had they seen him return like others. So, where could he be?
"Mummy, when is daddy returning?" asked Cynthia, the youngest of the Wackson children. She was barely a year old when the war began and didn't get to know her father before he left.
"He will be back before Christmas. You should get a gift ready for him," replied Wendy, Cynthia's mother.
Wendy had taken over Mr. Wackson's responsibilities of running his provision store and caring for the family. She found solace in her three children and prayed for Mr. Wackson's return so they could raise their children together.
But sometimes, she knew she was hoping against hope. Because why hadn't he returned when all the other soldiers had, except those confirmed dead?
Did he get lost in the forest? Or did the enemies capture him as a slave? Maybe he was shot, and nobody cared to carry his body?
These questions haunted her, becoming her prayer points day and night.
Then, one hot afternoon, two days before Christmas, Cynthia sat before the television as usual while Wendy and the other two children prepared lunch in the kitchen.
After some time, Cynthia walked towards the door, her instincts telling her to do so. She flung open the door, and standing before her was a disheveled man with a nylon bag. He opened his mouth to speak, revealing his coffee-stained teeth and emitting a strong odor.
Cynthia couldn't bear it and let out a frightened scream.
The scream was loud enough to alert the whole house. Wendy and the other two children ran out of the kitchen to see the same sight.
"Wackson!?" Wendy screamed.
"Wendy, you can still recognize me?" said the disheveled man.
He was about to say something else when Wendy pulled him into a tight hug. Rex joined in the hug while Benny and Cynthia looked at the man their mother called Wackson.
"Is father a mad person and mum didn't tell us?" Cynthia asked Benny, who refused to answer the question.
A few hours later, the whole family sat around the dining table. Wack had shaved and washed, and now he looked like the man from the family's photo album.
"I'm sorry, kids. My absence wasn't intentional," he said, a bit embarrassed as he piled more meat onto their plates.
"I lost my way during our last camping trip. I didn't know my way around the forest, so I got lost," he explained.
After dinner, as the evening sun cast a warm glow through the windows, Wack shared more stories of his time in the forest.
He told them how he wandered the forest alone, surviving by eating wild fruit and fighting wild animals.
The family listened intently, captivated by his tales of survival and resilience.
It was a moment of mixed emotions—peace, sadness, and joy. Cynthia snuggled further into her dad's arms as he caressed her.
They all felt the hardship he had endured while finding his way in the forest.
But in the end, they were just happy that he was back alive.