The TimberWolf Effect (Book I)

CHAPTER TWENTY - Lieutenant Colonel Frank Williams

Timber was thrilled. Chad and Grace said they were going to a place where she and Emily could get as many new books for their personal libraries as they could carry. Timber wasted no time getting into Chad's car and buckling her seatbelt when he said it was time to go. The family drove to the Veterans Memorial Building next to Giggly Wiggly Playground. Timber had seen the outside of the building many times but she had never been inside before. When they entered the first set of doors, Grace and Chad bought Timber and Emily each the largest bag they could carry and set them loose. Timber's jaw dropped as soon as she entered the second set of doors. There were books everywhere. They were all in open boxes on collapsible tables. Timber was told that she could fill her bag as full as she could and she intended to do that.

Timber took off in search of the history books. None of the books were organized by category, only by fiction and nonfiction so she had to look at every book. She found one on the American Revolution and opened it with great interest. It had some illustrations of famous paintings but not many. An older man passed her and saw what she was looking at.

"Wouldn't that be a little advanced for you, Miss?"

Timber spun to her left and saw an elderly man in a wheelchair and a military uniform. She smiled.

"A little, Sir," she replied. "I like to know history, though."

"What part of it interests you?" asked the gentleman.

"All of it," said Timber, smiling. "What part of the military were you in?"

"I was in the Marines," he said. "I was in World War II."

"Oh my goodness!" cried Timber with wide eyes. "Did you fight the Japanese or the Germans? Did you see the camps? Were you at Pearl Harbor? Did you go to Italy? Were you in the Battle of the Atlantic?"

The soldier smiled and peered at Timber with mild astonishment. "How old are you, Miss?"

"I'm ten, Sir."

"Well, I was a fighter pilot for a while," he said. "Then I made things explode. I served alongside my fellow Americans and the British against Germany. I never saw the camps, but I saw people who survived them."

"That must have been horrible," said Timber. "I can't even imagine how that must have felt. I've seen death once in my life. I can't imagine seeing it every day. It must have been so terrible."

"You've seen death so young?"

"I witnessed my parent's death seven months ago," said Timber. "I still have nightmares." Timber paused and looked at him straight in his bright blue eyes. "Do they stop? The bad dreams, I mean."

"No. They ease up over time, but seeing death is something you never completely get over." Timber's face fell a little. The old man took her hand. "How about I help you fill your bag. I came here looking for books about cats. Maybe I can find one while I help you."

So they looked. Timber and the old man spent the better part of an hour looking for history books to fill up the large bag in Timber's hand and talking. Timber asked questions about the medals on his jacket, what combat during the war was like, and how he felt when the war was finally over. The soldier answered all of her questions patiently and willingly. He seemed very happy to have a curious young mind to entertain.

"Are you considering joining the military when you grow up?" he asked.

"No, Sir," said Timber. "I don't think I could handle it. It takes a brave person to be willing to go to war."

"Well, to be honest," said the man, "they glorified it. They made it look exciting. They talked about us being heroes and experiencing the world. We did our training, which wasn't bad for a farm boy like me. When we went into combat for the first time, we were in Hell. I saw grown men cry for their mothers. Some fought without flinching. I wanted to hide but I ran out into the field and did my duty." He picked up a book and handed it to Timber. "Here's one about the history of the railroad."