Together on Ecarte Island

Revisting

      Delivering the various pieces of mail about Escarte Island many times brought a mixed bag of emotions. There was elation from Mrs. Marcum who had taken over her husband's small bakery hearth during  the war, of which he never returned.  Mrs. Marcum actually shared her news after opening her letter as Violet purchased a fresh loaf of bread for the Major and herself.
     "Alice had the baby!" Mrs. Marcum exclaimed to her daughter (also a widow just as most women were here nowadays).
     Violet watched them with interest but offered no remark.
     "So, which is it? A boy or a girl?" Marianne, the daughter, asked.
     "A BOY!! She had a boy, and both are doing so well!"  Mrs. Marcum exclaimed happily, and looked at Violet, "Thank you, Miss Violet. Could we possibly trouble you for your help in writing a return letter soon?"
     "Of course, Mrs. Marcum," answered Violet in her straight forward business like way. "I can be at your service after I deliver my mail tomorrow."
     Violet passed the familiar vegetable cart of Jenna Callie, who looked rather solemn. Her last letter from Casper Bridges must have not pleased her. Violet stopped and looked at her expectantly, but Jenna merely sat wringing her hands.
     "I haven't finished my letter back to Casper yet. I feel. . . Unsure about it."  Jenna confessed, "I've never felt unsure before." She then looked pleadingly at Violet. "I. . .do you still help people write letters, like you did at the company?"
     Violet nodded.
     "Please help me, Violet. Can you?"
     "Of course. I will help in any way I can." she said in her usual polite, yet monotone diction.
     "Will you have the time soon?"
     "Yes," Violet answered simply, "I shall be available tomorrow in the mid-afternoon."
      Jenna nodded somberly. "Thank you, Violet.  I am so glad you live so near to help me. We are all very fortunate to have you and the schoolmaster here. My younger brother, Toby enjoys Mr. Jilbert's instruction."
    At the compliment for the Major, Violet actually smiled.  "I will forward that information to the Ma. . ." Violet almost forgot about the Major being incognito on Escarte. He had fought in the enemy army, as she did herself. They both were part of the reason the island lacked so many younger men now that the war was over. "I will tell the schoolmaster about your brother's feelings toward him."
     Violet kept her portable typewriter at the lighthouse and in pristine condition with fresh lubricating oil (the same formula she used in maintaining her arms) and always an extra roll of black inked ribbon. She likened it to the assault rifles and handguns she used in battle. But in that case if THEY were not maintained properly, one was so much more likely to die. Then who would be there to protect the Major??
     As Violet walked along the path toward the lighthouse, she wondered if she would even be able to help Jenna and whatever  had upset her about Casper's recent correspondence. Her notion of romantic love was limited in many aspects, but she completely understood  the concept of wanting to be near and to care for particular persons in one's life. If one could understand that aspect alone, then what more was there to HAVE to know?  The love which existed between the Major and herself  was perfect just as it had always been. There were no feelings of being upset, for the Major was there, safe and warm and never hungry, for she was with him. 
     Violet absentmindedly touched the emerald colored brooch that rested between her collarbones. It was the color of the Major's eyes when she was first given to him, as well as a gift he had let her select at a marketplace long ago. For the time they were separated the brooch was the one thing that gave her any sort of comfort.  Now it served as a reminder that she would be by his side always and forever.
     These blissful thoughts of her life with the Major made her heart thump louder in her chest and her mouth smile dreamily. It blocked out the dark cloud that loomed in the far recesses of her mind in the form of  one last letter that she would be carrying home to the Major from Navy Captain Deitfried Baugainvillea.
     Violet could not say why she felt apprehensive about a letter from the Major's older brother. Perhaps it was such a reminder of the wretched war years.
     Gilbert sat on the corner of his desk, while listening to Clayton Shaw, the oldest boy in class read a storybook to the younger children.
The younger children listened intently from their makeshift desks, their mouths gaped open, their bright, clear eyes wide as a wild animal crept toward the story's hero.  Clayton was so enthralled himself that his diction took a dramatic turn just as the wild animal pounced.
      "LOOK OUT, GEOFFREY!!!" Reggie Mauler, an 8 year-old , cried out hysterically. Clayton froze at the outburst, then began to laugh, as did the rest of the classroom. Gilbert smiled but noticed that Reggie had hidden his face in the crook of his arm on his desk.
      Gilbert held up his left hand which was the signal for the class to quiet down. Once they regained their composure, Gilbert said, "It's alright, Reggie. When that part was read to me when I was young, I was crying my heart out for poor Geoffrey!"
     "Really?" said the small boy looking up, still red in the face.
      The girl sitting next to Reggie, a certain Margot Shaw, the reader's 9 year-old younger sister, patted Reggie's back comfortingly. "You see, Reg? Even HEADMASTER felt afraid at that part and he's all sorts of brave!"
     Others throughout the class agreed. A hand belonging to 11 year-old Hanson Mott shot up in the air. "Mr. Jilbert?"
     "Yes, Hanson," Gilbert acknowledged the boy who could sometimes be too intelligent for his own good.
     "How DID you lose your arm?"
     There was an audible gasp from some of the students, but Gilbert knew it was just a matter of time before some brave soul asked the question.
     "The war." Gilbert answered simply, which satisfied all, except Hanson, who followed up the question, not about the eyepatch covered right eye but. . .
     "On our side, right?" he asked rather pointedly.
     Gilbert paused, swallowed hard, and lied.
"Yes. . . that's right."
     "Of COURSE, on OUR side!" cried Margot incredulously. Which, again, satisfied the rest of the class, even Hanson, for there was no question after that, but then again, it was time for the students to go home for the day. 
     Gilbert watched them file out the door and become smaller and smaller as they followed the path away from the school.   He kept his seat on the desk a moment longer,  staring into the past, hearing the gun fire, and the crumbling of rubble after consecutive blasts from thrown explosives. . . and . . . no, don't, old man, don't go there in your mind, you promised never to let yourself go there again. . . and the sound Violet's tiny right arm made when it detached from her little body. . . Thud. . . then more gunfire, and another . . . Thud. . . the left arm falling away and hitting the cold stone floor of the cathedral.  And then. . . no, NO!! PLEASE STOP. . . Violet, covered in her own blood, moments from going into shock, falling to her knees in front of him and grabbing his bloodied collar by her teeth and tugging at him, still, STILL fighting for him. . . The memory was too much for Gilbert to bear in that moment and he ended up on his knees, his forehead resting  against the side of his desk, beads of sweat rolling from his temples as he, didn't cry, but keened in a low groan through gritted teeth.
     Through his anguished groans, a sound, muffled in his ears at first, but then became clear.
     "Major?" It was Violet's voice, near to him.
Near enough to touch. Without even opening the left eye he had squeezed shut, he caught her around the waist and crushed her to him. Gilbert felt her mechanical arms encircling his cowering body. With his head held to her breast, he listened to her heartbeat through her blouse he made damp with sweat. He felt her gloved hand stroke his hair and her cheek on his head.
     Fueled by emotional upheaval, his mouth found the naked tender skin of her throat and he tasted it in a kiss. He felt her body stiffen against him and her breath come quicker. What am I DOING??  his mind screamed.