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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𝒯he last days went by faster than William had thought were possible. By now, word had gotten around the neighborhood that William Rogers had a duchess of an aunt who, apparently, lived in a mysterious village that was unknown to everyone.
William dodged the questions as best as he could, claiming he was in a hurry or that he was late to somewhere. Even though nobody was asking her any questions, Rosa, too, was starting to get anxious. They had said their farewells the night before the train. He had told her she was beautiful and before the sun had set, Rosa had given him a tender kiss. It had made him feel as if he was levitating ten feet off the ground and there were hoards of elephants stomping around in his tummy.
Of course she hadn't kissed him on the lips, that would not have been Rosa-thing to do. She had placed her rosy lips on his beet red cheek, allowed the feeling tingle between them and then pulled away. He had been smiling like the fool he is, said goodnight to the smiling girl and then he had walked back to the den of the devil.
Even crazed Mrs. Davis couldn't swipe the wide smile from the love-struck boy. She was cursing like he had never heard her done before, saying she had been stupid do not have chosen to send anyone with him.
He knew she'd get tired eventually, she was, after all, pretty old. William himself wasn't going to sleep, he'd sleep on the train. He was an early riser, but he was still afraid he'd be left behind.
"Well, are you packed? Did you take your warm clothes? There's a piece of bread on your luggage, please be reasonable and don't forget it in the train or give it to strangers. Heaven only knows you're still too wiggly up there, I just hope Steven knows about her sending a letter to you, he wouldn't be too upset, would he?" she asked out of the blue, her eyes filled with concern. William waved her off, his blue eyes staring at the black window, it was pretty late, Mrs. Davis should go to bed soon.
"No, no, didn't you read the letter? She had contacted Steve before, but Steve is obviously too busy putting his life in line for people who would never do the same." Mrs. Davis scoffed, wiggling her finger towards him. "You don't come to me with that sort of talk, young man, Steven is a honorable man, alright? And most of all, he's your brother, don't be bitter now."
"Me and bitter? Never, ma'am–"
"And don't call me ma'am, William. I'm not that old!" the fair haired boy frowned, casting an odd look towards the woman. She had never complained about that before, her feathers were quite ruffled indeed. "Didn't you just turn seventy–" her loud voice startled him "no! My twenty-fifth birthday was almost yesterday! And honestly, be a gentleman and never talk about lady's age, that's just rude William." she said with the same, usual frown that she wore. He could see fatigue in her guarded eyes, would the devil go to sleep now?
He groaned internally, seeing Mrs. Davis pull out the old, grey and blue suit her late husband used to wear to church. "Well, the waist might be slightly too wide for your narrow body, but it will do. You have to look nice for that aunt, have to seem like a proper gentleman, don't you William." He was sure even if the house was in fire, Mrs. Davis would not have noticed. She aas way too busy with that awful rambling of hers. Sometimes William wondered if she just liked to hear her own voice.
