Thom Boat

Welcome Home Darling

Night fell as I woke still clinging to Jack. Instinctively, I began to drag his body across no mans land and back to our lines. Bullets continued to pop randomly. but for the most part, the battle was sleeping. It took me at least an hour to get Jack out of the field. I made my way down the ladder into an almost lifeless trench, carefully lowering Jacks body down after me. Eugene Townsend found me and told me that all the boys including the Sargent were gone. Except for Billy who had been taken back to a field hospital safely. Eugene found me a cup of tea, of which I was very grateful for. After sleeping awhile I grabbed a shovel and found a stretcher for Jack, so Eugene and I could carry him back from the line. 100 yards behind the service road we dug a grave and buried Jack at the foot of a strong tree. Just as I'd done for Mamma Grace. I carved his name clearly with my knife into the trunk and headed back to the trenches with Eugene. Fighting resumed pointlessly again on the 2nd day. We made no ground on this day either, being in and out of my body for most of it. Lucid and then inhuman within a heartbeat. News of my efforts with Billy reached the ears of a captain and I was made in to a medic. And for the rest of the war it was so. From Passchendaele to the battle of Marne where the German army finally began to unravel. And then Amiens, which gave me shrapnel in my right shoulder and finished my active duty. They pinned medals on my chest which hung like dead weight. Each one of them only seemed to remind me of the one life I couldn't save.I left France for Britain with a few personal belongings for Jack in a nice wooden box. 2 medals, one of them posthumous. A couple of letters, his corporal stripe, and his boots. I'd never seen a man so in love with a pair of boots. For a second time in my short life I'd been a witness to hearing the music of war fade away. The channel was busy with boats bringing soldiers home. So, upon reaching Southampton, I only had an address with which to find Kate. I had nowhere else to go. My life had become a mantra of ten yards and then ten more. I found the tenement where she was living in Lamberth. The streets were already starting to come back to life. But the brokenremains of Britain weren't hard to find as I walked down streets where bombs had indiscriminately levelled every building. And others that remained completely unmolested. Kates street, thankfully, was untouched.Upon reaching her door, I stood braving my thoughts. Unable to bring myself to knock. I didn't know what to say or indeed how to say it. I couldn't measure the grief about to take hold in front of me. So, I reached for a deep breath and knocked twice, with an uneasy pause between both knocks. The door opened. And the reticence of our first introduction in that dance hall came flooding back. She stood in front of me without a word. And then, catching a winded breath, she fell into my arms. She wasn't dramatic. She just quietly wept into my chest as I stroked her hair. Just then Kate felt a familiar tug on her dress. "oh" she said, hastily wiping her eyes. She reached down and picked up the small curly haired boy at her feet. Resting him on her hip, he looked at me with keenly penetrating eyes. "Jack?" she said. "This is your Uncle Thom". The little quiet lad put out his hand to greet me. I grabbed his tiny hand and started to cry. With a crippled voice I said, "it's so good to see you Jack". There was no need for an explanation. Jack and Kates love was absolute. Kate considered telling Jack before we left for war that she was pregnant. But she believed in his call of duty as much as he did. And wouldn't cloud his purpose, as she knew it would. Kate was poor now. Her parents, who could have taken her in, just couldn't see past the social difficulty of the boy. Even if an engagement ring was present. So, I took what money I had left, packed up the little Kate owned, and we left on a train for the only place I trusted to be a home. Little Jack sat on his mammas knee, barley taking his eyes from the window. He had a fascination for life that was almost as bold as his fathers. And I could hardly pull my eyes away from him. He had the frame of his father and the sweet face of his mother. But his eyes were all Jack. Full of fire, mischievousness, and total unbalanced love.The train passed once again along the fields that I had longed to one day rest my eyes upon again when Jack and I first journeyed away. And then as the fields turned into hills and hills turned into mountains, it made my heart full.Kate by this point was ready to hear about Jack and I in France. I told her of the inspiration he was to me. Always waking to greet the day with a smile. Even in the trenches. How the boys always looked up to him. And how in awe I was as I witnessed his fortitude on the battlefield. With a heart always so awake to love, that even the sound of artillery gave him a quickening for life. Kate smiled and cried and laughed with such pride to be hearing about the steadfastness of her true love.We left the train for the walk to the nest town. Kate with little Jack in her arms. Until he insisted on walking. And me, carrying the few things she had left in the world. The snow covered pretty much everything. But our nervous energy was keeping us warm. Before long we reached the town of Jacks birth as we made our way up the cobblestone street to the small house he'd been raised in. Once again. Taking another 10 yards, I knocked on the door. It opened slowly to reveal a very tall man. His hair was pale and thick. Like bailed straw. His skin looked as if it had been washed by the sea since birth. And his hands had a fierceness of power behind them. But then once again, as if I was dreaming, I saw Jacks eyes as his steel gaze narrowed ever so slightly whilst saying "You're Thom aren't you". "Yes Sir" I answered nervously. Not even looking at Kate, he asked, "where's Jack son?". I was terrified to be answering him. But once again, my eyes couldn't hide the words that my tongue refused to utter." I'm so sorry Mr Piper" I said as earnestly as my lips could say. Without hesitation he said, "you'd better come in out of the cold". As the kindest of smiles painted his face. "Oh, what have we here?" he asked, speaking directly to the small boy. "Someone you need to meet" I said as delicately as I could." Sit yourself down. Something tells me mother is going to want to meet you". The inside of the house looked as if it had been the soul art of peace for many long years. Every bit of furniture, every pot and bowl, every picture had been restored with love. Well past its prime for many years. Every inanimate object Shon with prideful purpose. And little Jack was captivated by this museum he was now warm and safe in."Well noe. Who's this?" in walked an amazing, fresh faced, beautiful middle-aged woman. With dark curly hair bunched up in a messy and falling out around her open face. Kate stood up as to respect the people she was about to address. "Mr and Mrs Piper?" she said nervously. "This is little Jack. He's your grandson". Without even asking, Mrs Pipers arms reached down to picked up Jack and squeezed him like you would a new pillow." Well noe. We must have some toys of your father's around. Let's go find them." She turned back with tears in her eyes, looked at Kate and said, "welcome home darling". She then disappeared into the back room with Jack. Kate stood in the middle of the living room. Making fists with her hands to stop the waves crashing behind her eyes."Oh, come on noe lassy. We're no that ugly noe". Declared Mr Piper as he moved to the kitchen to fetch the tea. I held Kate. She almost came apart in my arms. "I never knew" wept Kate. "I just never knew that anyone could be so kind". You're home now Kate. That's all that matters." We all sat down to dinner. The food was so good that I wondered how I'd ever survived alone. I found our collective conscious to be peacefully whole. As Jacks passing was never verbally addressed. Not with Kate, nor with Mrs Piper. It was as though he was still there. I did speak so proudly of him. And Kate showed them Jacks medals. She took out the first one and then explained the second to be a medal of Valour. Awarded posthumously. "Audrey, that means". "I know exactly what it means Donald" cutting Mr Piper off mid-sentence. She began to battle tears. Rubbing the medal, almost furiously in her weathered hands. "So prood. So so prood. God knows I am" she whispered". Gathering her composure, she said "and noe we have you little Jack. You're going to grow up to be as wonderful as your blessed father." Kate rested peacefully that night with little Jack in his fathers old bedroom as I slept on the couch. Even though a warm floor was enough for me after the last two years.I woke the next morning to find Mr Piper sitting across from me, smoking a pipe. As if waiting for me to rise. He said, "Jack told me you were a builder". "Yes Sir" I replied. "I can build". "Well we'd better get to work, making a home for my daughter and grandson. Unless you have something better to do." "of-course not Sir" I said with a smile. So, we began to build. And with all the granite rock on this beautiful land, it took no time to make Kate and little Jack a home. I then began to work for Mr Piper on his fishing boat. I guess Jack didn't steal that net after all.Kate got a job working in the local tavern. And within a year, she was running it. Jack started at school. He was such a bright boy. And the family I watched evolve filled me with such joy. My best friend who was no longer here was still managing to make the people he loved happy. Little Jack and I grew closer as Kate became very capable mother with a life of absolute contentment. But I had done as much as I ever imagined I could. So, with the sun once again warming the stones and trees, I decided it was time to leave