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CONSTABLE AARON HARRIS

I was reading my Bible in the bed beside my Momma, when I heard the pitter-patter that only the little feet of children could make. It was one of my little brothers or sisters. "Willa-Jean, James, William, Jessica?" I called out.

There, I could see the little five-year-old, petite frame that only Jessica could make. Her light auburn hair being lit up from the lantern she was holding.

"We have a winner," I whispered as I threw the quilt off of my small cot by the window and stumbled to the doorframe where she stood, her knit blanket in her hand being drug behind her, "Jessica."

"What?" she squeaked in her cute toddler voice.

"Go to bed, you have school in the morning," I scolded with my Momma/older sister tone. It was now my normal voice.

"Nah."

"Yes. Now go...to...bed."

"Nah."

"Would you like to sleep in my cot?"

She stared at the floor and nodded.

I sighed and took her teeny hand in mine and pulled her up and onto the cot. "Lay down," I ordered as issued down on her shoulders, which of course made her collapse and lay her body out.
I started for the door when I heard that little voice squeal , "Wait! Where you goin'?"

I sighed and walked back over to the cot. I bent down to her face and looked at her features. Her mouse-like nose, her rose petal lips, her chubby cheeks. I gave her a peck on her forehead before retreating and saying "I'm goin' to make breakfast now."

I could see her eyes grow heavy. I sighed and walked into the kitchen.

I looked around the dark, quite room that makes up the house. The white tiles lining the placement of the oven, the refrigerator close to it, the wood cabinets, and the lake-sized sink.
I made myself busy. I quickly grabbed a pot from the it's hook and poured water into it from the sink. I made work faster as I heard blankets rustling from the bedroom over. I heated the water on the stove, then grabbed coffee beans off of the shelf and threw them in with the boiling water.

I heard a bike bell ding and then a soft pound on the door. I dusted my hands my hands off with a towel before presiding over to to the door. I twisted the gold knob. 'Who would be here at this hour?'. I opened the door and saw a large man. He was chubby and no taller than five-foot-nine. I brought my gaze upwards and to his hair, a dirty blonde color lightened by the moonlight. Constable Aaron. But what is he doing here?

"Hello, Wendy. May I come in?"

I stepped aside and gestured my hand.  "Please."

He awkwardly walked over and sat down on the green-patterned sofa. "I am afraid I have terrible news." He avoided my gaze like the plague.

"What is it?" I shut the door and stood in front of him.

Constable held up a letter addressed to my mother, by the government. I knew what it was. I knew why he was uneasy. And I knew why he was here at such an early hour. I rapidly tore the letter out of his hands and then out of the envelope. I read it over several times, each time I read the same message:

To Mrs. Smith;

Your husband, Lieutenant Colonel Jonathan Smith, has been declared dead in battle. It was a small skirmish. His body was burned. If would like his remains and personal belongings, please notify your local constable who will have these items a few days after the delivery of this letter.

Sincerely,
The Great Britain Military

I clutched the letter to my chest and started weeping. I collapsed onto the floor. "This is why I came here so early. I got the letter last night, wanted to wait until this morning when I knew there would be most to witness."

"My mother cannot find out. My father being alive is the only thing making cling to life in this sickness. She would give up, or worse, kill herself."

"That is another reason I came when I knew you were in private."

I looked up, shocked. What does he mean by that. I stood on my feet and glared at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"This area is susceptible to an attack by non-ally forces."

"Meaning?"

"I will keep this a secret from everyone in town, if you help the military out by finding out with preventing this attack."

"You mean spying?"

"In a way, yes."

"So you are using my father's death as blackmail. I'd rather see my mother die!"

"No," he stood up and put a hand on my shoulder, "I'm asking you on the behalf of all citizens of this town, we need to find out if an attack is happening and this is the offer of a bargain I can give you."

We stood in silence. Then the silence was interrupted by blankets rustling and footsteps approaching. "Yes. Now leave, quickly before one of my siblings sees you." I place a hand on his back and ushered him over to the door. He quickly threw it open and saw himself out. I turned and leaned against the back of the door.

"Who was that?" Willa-Jean grunted sleepily.

"The milkman. He was collecting our payment."

"Where's the milk?"

"I was just about to get it. It's early, go back to bed."

She nodded, and walked back to bed. I sighed before running a hand through my hair. I could feel my auburn-brown locks were tangled. What have I gotten myself into?