My mother grew up in Charleston, West Virginia, and after meeting my father, she stayed and raised a family. It's a small town of course, but I don't mind it.
William does.
He's built up quite a sturdy reputation as the Pastors' charming but "impulsive" son. William is a lot like my father in sense that he is passionate, but contrasting with my father, his passion quickly leads to recklessness. My mother says that while my brother barely thinks at all, thinking is all I do.
Every sunday we stayed after church and waited for my father and mother to finish up their conversations. Every sunday, William and I would attempt to lip read and fail horribly. And every sunday, a group of teenage girls would stand in a tight circle staring at and whispering about my brother.
My mother walked up to us, "William, walk your sister home please. Your father and I have some things to finish up."
"Yes Ma'am." He put his arm around my shoulder and we began walking. Just before we turned the corner, he looked back at the whispering girls and flashed them a smile. Their giggles turned to hysterics as they squealed hurried goodbyes.
"You really shouldn't tease them like that", I stifled my laugh.
He gave an exaggerated gasp and put his hand over his heart in false offense.
"I would never! C'mon Jean, you know me better than that." He chuckled, nudged my shoulder with his, and continued down the road.
" So," he hesitated, "I've been thinking."
" Uh oh", I teased.
He rolled his eyes and smiled, " I'm serious, Jean." His posture straightened and his eyebrows scrunched together. "I wanna enlist."
I stopped walking and looked up at him. My stomach felt hollow, "... what?"
" Well, last Thursday I saw a poster by Mrs. Cavil's flower shop. And Walter was talking about it yesterday. I could go and serve our country; see the world."
I was trying to get my thoughts straight. He couldn't actually be considering this, could he? But one look at him told me he was serious. My heart started beating faster.
"No. You-" I couldn't find the words. "You're not old enough. They won't let you."
He looked down at his feet and shrugged, "I'll be 18 in a few months, I don't think they'll be able to tell the difference."
My face grew hotter and tears started tugging at my vision. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.
"Okay, let's go home. It was just a thought anyway." He was trying to comfort me like he always did when I was upset. I nodded, wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and we continued our walk home.
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Fiksi SejarahJean's brother runs off to fight in WW2 , Jean does everything she can to try and help him survive.