In 1943 Steven Grant Rogers was enlisted to the United States Army.
Everyone knows the righteous, patriotic Captain America and his story. People might have heard of his mother, Sara, who was a nurse and died of tuberculosis. Perhaps some have even...
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𝒲illiam sat on the porch of their apartment, whistling a happy tune as he watched the people passing by.
The summer was at its finest as the heat made him sweat and the suntanned his naturally pale skin. His blue eyes seemed to glow against his tan.
William stopped whirling the hat around his fingers as he watched someone approaching their front gate. He pushed himself off the porch, landing with a small thud as he waved at the old woman. "Mrs. Davis!" the boy said happily, jumping on their front gate as he unhooked it, making it fall open with him still clinging onto it.
"Good morning, ma'am, and welcome to our humble mansion, how can I be of service?" he asked, his eyes twinkling at the box the woman was holding.
Cookies. heavenly, sweet, sugary goods. They were baked cheap but nothing could beat homemade baked goods, besides, it reminded William times when he still had a mom.
Mrs. Davis was a strict but nice old woman who had been their neighbour forever. She checked up on boys once in a while, scolding them for not watching after the garden or not keeping the windows clean.
"Morning young William, where is this older brother of yours now?" she asked, marching into the small yard as William closed the gate. He could almost feel her judgmental stare as she took in all the unkempt flowers, ajar door, and the dark house. "Eh, probably trying to grow taller somewhere." the boy said with a chuckle, shutting up as the old woman whipped around, giving him one of the horrific glares she possessed. "Don't joke over Steven like this, William. This is rude, your mother would be disappointed." the boy flinched, knowing the old woman was truly capable of low blows. "Sorry, ma'am."
"It is not I who deserved your apologies. You boys need to be scolded once in a while, we don't want you to end up like my husband now do we?" she said bitterly, referring to the man ten feet under. He had been a drunkard, often singing and yelling in the house next door. Until one day he got a punch in a bar fight and couldn't walk it off.
"No, that we don't want."
"Good, here, you're all skin and bones William. I hope once your brother gets into the army he'll be able to take better care of you. Lord knows what the future is like for you two. Here, I made some cookies, make sure you leave some for your brother and that friend of his, I have to get going now. Have to buy some new fabric for the dress my granddaughter wants. Are you heading to the city center this fine afternoon?" the woman asked, thrusting the box of cookies into William's chest, the boy could feel his mouth watering, he couldn't remember the last time he had had cookies. "Uhm, no, actually, I'm heading the other direction."
"What for? What business do you have in the richer part of the town? William? You haven't really gotten into thieving have you?" the woman asked, narrowing her eyes. William could swear he saw her morph into a horned devil, doing something Mrs. Davis didn't approve of was almost like a death sentence.
