for The Saturday Boy by David Fleming
If there's one thing I've learned from comic books, it's that everybody has a weakness - something that can totally ruin their day without fail.
For the wolfman it's a silver bullet.
For Superman it's Kryptonite.
For me it was a letter.
With one letter, my dad was sent back to Afghanistan to fly Apache helicopters for the U.S. army.
Now all I have are his letters. Ninety-one of them to be exact. I keep them in his old plastic lunchbox - the one with the cool black car on it that says Knight Rider underneath.
Apart from my comic books, Dad's letters are the only things I read more than once. I know which ones to read when I'm down and need a pick-me-up. I know which ones will make me feel like I can conquer the world. I also know exactly where to go when I forget Mom's birthday. No matter what, each letter always says exactly what I needto hear. But what I wantto hear the most is that my dad is coming home.