The Wind in Our Words

VII: 1941

When I recall the summer of 1941, I think of it as one of the most pleasant times of my life. nothing had affected me, in fact, everything had a positive connotation associated with it. I was ever thankful to be one with the summer.

I had my Charlie, who kept my heart close to his, and his close to mine. 

My brother, who had become a respectable man, and always protected me.

Hilda, who had become vulnerable in her time of need. 

Charlies father, who had the most unimaginable connection to me.

My own father, once harsh, but softened by the happiness of life. 

I helped Mr. Burrow pack up the fishing hut down by the pond. It was nothing but a small light, a few fishing rods here and there, nothing much else. 

A new family had moved into the Kennedy's place. I could almost see it, a moving picture, Jane and I running in our dresses down to our shady tree. I loved her still, but it felt harder to love someone who had made the effort to be distant. 

Hilda and I went over to the new neighbors house. A girl of about my age answered the door. 

"May I help you?"

"Hello, Ms, my name is Hilda Bea Robinson, and I live in the house just  over there. Oh, and this is my stepdaughter, Miss Rachel Robinson." I slightly curtsied to her. She had hair the color of sand, done in a fancy updo. She wore a lavender dress, and invited us inside.

"Well, pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name's Alice, Alice Beacon."

"How old are you, Ms. Alice?" Hilda was awfully curious today. 

"I'm sixteen years old. How old are you?" I stood there with a pleasured expression on my face. 

"I'm sixteen as well!"

"Well, that's great!" 

I was ecstatic, another girl my age. I loved spending time with Charlie, but being with a girl my age again, how I'd missed that comfort that I had at Charlotte Hill. 

We both shared a love of painting, so we took it upon ourselves to paint together. I never was into painting landscapes, but I learned how to do it, and I rather enjoyed it. The precise details on the trees that I watched as the leaves fell down, or how the grass swayed with the wind. 

"You're getting quite good at this, Rach."

"I love your pond landscape, Alice! That's beautiful work!"

Frank came home one day, tired from work. I asked him whatever was the matter. 

"Ruth's parents don't think I'm suitable for their daughter."

"Well, why not?" 

"I guess I'm not rich enough, or have a stable enough job."

I didn't know what exactly he meant by that, but I would soon enough understand. 

I was in the Burrows home when it happened. December 7th. Everyone was preparing for Christmas. It would be a good Christmas, at least one would hope. We turned on the radio and heard the announcement. Japan had bombed our base in Hawaii. 

"Pearl Harbor?" Mr. Burrow practically waddled into the room upon hearing this announcement. 

Charlie stood up and went into the other room. I sat there, in complete shock. I knew what this meant. America would finally have to get involved in the war.

They wanted strong boys. Charlie was within the right age, seventeen, to enlist with parental consent. I was certain that he would do it for his country.