Civil

The Basket

Elizabeth's POV
"Leia! Darlin', supper is ready and on the table; now come on in and clean up!" I step out of the front door on our new house, calling for my six-year-old to come in. She reminded me so much of her father as she came running toward me with a big grin on her face. It was still difficult having to explain why her father wouldn't be coming home anymore, why they wouldn't be going fishing on Sunday evenings after Sunday sermon, or why he wouldn't be kissing her cheek as she lays down for bed every night. "Wash your hands and sit down." I kiss the top of her head as she hurries inside, getting herself ready for her favorite meal; fried chicken.

"If you need me tonight, wake up me up. I love you so much sugar." I whisper quietly as I tuck her into bed, kissing her forehead softly. "Mama.." I hesitate to blow out the candle as she reaches for my hand, her tiny little fingers wrapping around my wrist. "Why ain't daddy comin' home?" A sigh escapes my lips as I try to stay calm about the situation. "Listen darling', daddy got hurt in the war. He can't come back home... he went to see Jesus and ride horses in a big field full of golden wheat." I hope the story he used to tell her about his grandpa would work this time as I carefully explain to her the best I could that he wasn't returning home. Silence settles around us as I stroke her hair gently, watching as her little eyes close slowly into a deep sleep. "Goodnight baby-girl."

I hum quietly to myself as I clean the kitchen up, saving any leftover food that would make it through until tomorrow. I miss him. This was something we would do together; wash the dishes as he would sing to me any song I requested. His voice drove every woman crazy around here; but, it just so happened that I was the only woman he wanted to drive crazy for the rest of his life. I didn't mind that at all. Ever since the war began, women were receiving news about their husbands and sons; some mothers and fathers being told of their son's fatality because he never had the chance to marry. I would pray every night that my husband would come home safely; that he would come home to me and Leia with a big smile on his face. I guess he just wasn't in God's plan. The town began to go into a depression with the news of all of the deaths, but my husband's death hit everyone the hardest. He was the preacher and the mayor. Our town nearly fell apart after his death; the church decided the next Sunday would be a day of rest in our own homes, a day to be at peace with the terrible news we had all received. The town decided on a new mayor shortly two weeks after the news; the man said he could never fill Luke's shoes. How could a town like ours, so small and peaceful, be hit with so much pain and depression all at once?

"Come on, Leia. Mama needs some things from the market." Her hand reaches up to meet mind as we continue walking down the street, her other small hand carrying my basket for the market items. Images of Luke carrying Leia on his shoulders flash through my mind, carrying a bittersweet feeling with them as they go. "Go play sweetie, I won't be long." Motioning to her friends, a small smile remains on my lips as I greet people at the market. People become over-friendly after a death in this town occurs, other than me of course, I treat you the same as I did before except this time I have a little more passion to my words and I little more kindness to my heart. I never treat anyone badly unless they treat me that way, but if you lost someone dear to you, I will show you kindness and love when needed. However, I suppose I'm the only person who sees it this way; since my husband was such a known person in Normal, everyone feels as if they need to tell me they're sorry, or they're here if I need anything, or if I need a meal to be prepared they will be glad to do it. I feel very loved knowing this, but it only brings back the memory of General Marsh walking up to me and delivering that heartbreaking letter. I was the only woman he personally gave the letter to; other women were given their letters by a friend of their husband or son's in the war, or it was delivered by the post office. They said he was killed in action; a friend of his in the war had been shot in the leg, so he went back to help him get to safety. That's when it happened, they surrounded them and shot them until you could barely tell who they were. Images of that gruesome moment haunt me in my dreams, during the day, at all times.

My thoughts are interrupted by a scream heard from across the street. Everyone's attention is turned toward the cause; Leia. "Leia!" Before my body can register my actions, screams are leaving my throat, my basket and it's contents are on the ground, and my feet are carrying me toward my daughter so quickly I feel as if I'm not touching the ground. "Leia!" I fall to my knees when I see her on her back, fear in her wide eyes. I follow her eyes up to see a white horse standing above us with a tall man seated upon the saddle. "Are you crazy? You could have killed my daughter." My voice stutters in anger as I pick her up carefully, holding her tightly to my chest. Murmurs are heard around us of "Colonel.", "New arrival in town.", "I heard he will be our mayor."  My eyes stare straight ahead to him, anger spewing out of me. "If you'll excuse me."

Alright everyone, I hope you enjoy the first chapter to this story! Warning: you will cry, you will get angry, and you will be happy. But, in the end I hope you are ecstatic with the story I make. Please vote or comment what you thought!