Confessions From An Affair Ch. 08

"Oh, my," I said, "that is so lovely."

I couldn't believe this act of kindness. It was as if The Lord had heard my prayers at last. I tried my best to recover my wits.

"Please tell the Colonel that I don't know how I could ever repay him," I managed.

"No repayment is necessary, ma'am," he said, "The U.S. Army likes to take care of its own."

With that, he saluted and walked off down the sidewalk. I stood there in the doorway in shock. A moment earlier, I had been braced for the worse possible news. Instead, I was the beneficiary of such a kind act by someone that I didn't even know.

I managed to get the baby carriage in through the front door and I went back and collapsed on the couch. My heartbeat was still not back to normal and I could feel the adrenalin coursing through my system. As I looked at my hands, I could see that they were still shaking.

Later, after Christine woke up crying again, I proudly bundled her up and placed her in the carriage. I took her out of the front door and we went for a little walk in the sunshine. The streets were almost deserted in our neighborhood. Nobody had to tell me the reason why. I knew the truth in my own heart -- everyone had barricaded their home out of fear of The Black Creeper.

As I walked along, I noticed the most amazing thing. Christine was no longer crying! I don't know if it was the gentle rocking motion or what, but she was actually quiet. I was prepared to walk all the way to California and back if it would keep her from crying. From that day on, the two of us walked everywhere we could think of. We really put some miles on that old baby carriage!

One day, I found my feet walking down a familiar path. We were approaching the riding stable where I used to help out with the horses. When we arrived, all of the negro soldiers crowded around to see the baby and tell me congratulations. I admit that it is a bit shameful, but I basked in the attention that we were getting.

Slowly, the soldiers started going back to their duties. The last two to remain behind were Privates Robinson and Harris. I was familiar with both of them because I had worked closely with each while tending the horses.

It's really good to see you again, ma'am," said Private Robinson, "but Sergeant Jackson will be back soon."

"I know," I said, "he stopped by to see the baby last week."

The two privates exchanged a look.

"He went to see the baby, you say?" asked Private Harris quietly.

"Yes," I replied, "he seemed like such a natural with Christine. Is there anything the matter?"

Again the two soldiers exchanged a look. Private Robinson gave a slight twitch of his head and Private Harris excused himself, leaving just the two of us. Private Robinson didn't say anything at first. He gave a quick look around as if to make sure there was nobody else near.

"The Sergeant had a wife and a little girl who were killed last year in a car crash, ma'am," he confided.

"Oh, no," I croaked as I covered my mouth with my hand.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, "Back home in Georgia, it was. The ambulance came, but they took the white driver even though there wasn't nearly anything wrong with him. By the time they came back, the Sergeant's wife and daughter were dead."

I was absolutely speechless. It was the most horrible thing that I had ever heard. I felt completely out of place for the first time since I started coming to the stables. I wasn't sure if the colored soldiers viewed me as the enemy just because my skin was white or what. I knew that in my heart I never thought of them as being any different than me. Did they feel the same way towards me?

"Thank you for tell me that," I said, "Maybe I should be going. I don't want to cause any problems around here."

Private Robinson looked at me apologetically. "Just thought you should know," he said.

I turned the baby carriage around and Christine and I went away. The beautiful sunshiny day gave me no joy. All I could think about was the horrible story that I had just heard. How could people be so cruel towards each other? I just couldn't understand. I suddenly remembered that look of sorrow crossing Daniel's face when he was holding Christine.

I also remembered seeing that same look on that day that Sergeant Jackson had first introduced himself to Maria and me. He had been talking about how the cavalry's horses were being replaced by the tanks. 'They always take things away,' he'd said. Now those words took on a whole new meaning in light of what I had just learned.

When we arrived at home, the first thing that I did was to scoop up Christine into my arms and hug her. She immediately began to fuss once again, but I didn't care at that moment. I understood what a precious gift that it was that I was holding in my arms.

Time continued to march forward. The news from Northern Africa wasn't good. The Nazi's General Rommel was proving to be a formidable opponent for the army. The newspapers always referred to him as The Desert Fox. This always made me angry. It was if they were trying to make some kind of hero out of him instead of the villain that he was.

I would write Jack letters almost every day and take them to the post office. I never knew if or when they might find their way into his hands, but I wanted to him to know that I kept him in my heart every waking moment.

Once in a while I would get a letter back from Jack. I understood that he couldn't tell me a whole lot about exactly where he was or what he was doing, so I would always use my imagination to fill in the gaps. I always tried to be as positive as I could when imagining the circumstances, but it was so hard to go on fooling myself day after day.

One day I received a letter in the mail written in a familiar script. It was another letter from my father. I couldn't bring myself to open it -- I just knew it was going to be more bad news. I set the letter down unopened and tried to ignore it, but my eyes couldn't help themselves from being constantly drawn back to it.

I finally braced myself and sat down to see what it said. My father passed along his and my mother's love and asked all about the baby at the beginning. Finally, he got to the part that I had dreaded. My brother, John, had been wounded in the South Pacific. The Navy was sending him home, but he had lost an eye.

This was horrible news. I tried to console myself with the thought that at least he was still alive. I thought about how much Johnny had always loved to read when he was growing up and how nicely that he could draw, He was the artist in the family and the walls of our home were always festooned with his drawings.

Even as I found myself trying to be positive, I discovered that there were tears rolling down my cheeks. How many of our young men were to have their lives forever changed by this terrible war?

As I sat there and cried for my brother, I heard a knock at the door. Again, my heart seized up at the sound that could be bringing the worst possible news to my doorstep. My eyes peered out of the curtains -- scanning the street for The Black Creeper. I was only slightly relieved when I saw no sign of it anywhere on our block.

I quickly tried to dry my eyes and went to see who it was at the door. Before I opened it I said a short, silent prayer. When I did finally open the door, there stood Sergeant Jackson. He held a small toy horse before him in his big hands and he started to give me a big welcome. He stopped short when he saw the obvious signs that I had been crying.

"Uh -- I'm sorry. I came at a bad time," he said and started to turn away.

Without even thinking, I quickly said, "No. Please stay."

Even all of these years later I can swear to you that the only reason that I said that was because I just couldn't bear to be alone with my thoughts for one more minute. A person can only stand to think about the impending closeness of death for so long before they can't stand it anymore.

The Sergeant turned back towards me slowly, searching my face for some kind of clue. I tried my hardest to give him a smile, but I fear it must have looked very forced.

"Please?" I said again weakly.

He held up the horse and said, "I brought this for our little horsewoman."

I brought my hand to my mouth and let out a small laugh. "That is so sweet of you," I told him, "Why don't you come in and give it to her?"

Sergeant Jackson looked very uncomfortable, but he slowly stepped inside. Christine was lying on her blanket which I had spread on the floor. The colic had finally run its course and she was turning out to be such a delight. Her eyes seemed to focus on Daniel -- as if she remembered his last visit.

That last, may have been my imagination. I've found that most new parents are very quick to credit their children with having much more intelligence than they really have. Later, when the children have grown to be teenagers, the parents will credit them with having no sense at all. Funny, isn't it?

Sergeant Jackson went over and gave Christine the toy that he had brought, while making funny baby noises. Christine smiled as she took it in her tiny hands and promptly stuck it in her mouth -- her very own stamp of approval.

As I watched Daniel squatting over Christine, I thought about the story that Private Robinson had told me about the Sergeant's wife and daughter. I didn't know how, or even if, I should bring up the subject. One thing that I did know, was that it sure did feel good to have another human being here with me.

"Can I get you something cold to drink?" I asked as I headed into the kitchen.

Daniel called after me, "Oh, I don't want to be no trouble."

I told him that it was no trouble at all and poured him a glass of cold lemonade. When I came back in from the kitchen, Daniel was sitting on the sofa. I noticed that the letter from my father appeared to be in a different place than I had left it previously. I gestured towards the letter.

"My father," I said, "He wrote to tell me that my brother had been wounded and was being sent home."

Daniel was very sympathetic and asked about how my family was coping with the war. I told him all about how all four of my brothers had joined up and were serving their country and how my brother, William, had been killed in action.

Daniel nodded solemnly and asked, "What have you heard from that husband of yours?"

I told him that I hadn't received a letter from Jack in almost three weeks and about how worried I was.

Daniel said, "I asked around about your husband. Everything that I heard was that he is a fine soldier. He won't do anything stupid that would get him hurt. The Army will keep him as safe as possible. Don't you worry your little head none."

I smiled at his kindness, but it didn't alleviate my fears one little bit. Daniel leaned forward and scooped Christine up from the floor to play with her in his lap. This made me laugh and forget my troubles for at least a few minutes.

Eventually, Christine began to get restless. I could tell that she was getting sleepy, but it did my heart good to see this nice man who had experienced such tragedy in his life enjoying himself so immensely.

At last, I said, "It looks like somebody is ready for her nap."

Daniel looked at me and asked, "Would you mind if I put her down?"

I smiled and said, "No. Not one little bit. Just let me change the sheet in her crib first."

I went to the nursery and stripped away the old sheet and put down a nice new fresh one. I stepped out of the room to tell Daniel that he could bring her in, but I found him already headed down the hallway. I stepped aside and let them pass.

I stood in the hallway and watched this tough soldier place Christine in the crib so tenderly. He stayed bent over the crib for a moment. I strained my ears and could just barely make out what Daniel was saying to her.

"May the angels watch over you, little one," he whispered.

My heart broke as I watched the scene before me. I could easily picture Daniel saying the same thing to his own daughter when she was little. As he stood up and turned around, I could see that his eyes were indeed misty.

As he closed the door, I searched my brain for something to say. I wanted to tell him that I knew what had happened to his wife and daughter. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was at the unjust way that they had been taken from him. I wanted to tell him that I knew what it was to lose someone you loved and how powerless you felt that you could do nothing about it.

The words just wouldn't come. Instead, I stepped forward and hugged him. I think that Daniel was shocked at first. He returned my hug stiffly. After a moment, I could feel his body shaking slightly as he started to sob.

I was crying, too. I whispered, "I know... I know... I'm so sorry."

Daniel's arms tightened around me as he tried to cope with the pain that he was feeling inside. I hugged him back just as fiercely, trying to block out all of my worries about Jack and my brothers. We were two wounded people searching for any handhold on reality that we could find.

I managed to free myself just slightly and I looked up into Daniel's face. He looked back down at me uncertainly. It seemed as if an eternity passed while we looked into each other's eyes. Slowly, Daniel's face began to descend towards mine. I made no move to stop him.

I closed my eyes as I felt his lips cover mine. A voice in my head was screaming at me that this was not right. However, there was another voice that was telling me that we both needed this -- we both needed to escape the worlds that we lived in for just a little while. I returned his kiss tenderly.

The kiss quickly heated up between us. We were both beginning to breathe heavily as our hands clutched at each other desperately. With a great effort, I broke the kiss and looked into Daniel's eyes. He still had that look as if he were not at all sure that he should be doing this.

Without a word, I took his hand and led him into my bedroom. There was no thought involved. No words were exchanged. We came together in another passionate kiss and I turned my mind away from any interference from common sense or reason.

Our clothes began to melt away as we each strove to find something that would allow us to feel alive again. I won't go into the details of what happened next. Lord knows that I am not proud of my actions of that day and I've spent a lifetime regretting that I ever allowed it to happen.

We made love that afternoon as we each tried to hold the world at bay -- a world where great world wars could take your husband away from you and leave you living in terror that you would never see him again -- a world where your wife and child could be taken from you just because somebody doesn't like the color of your skin.

Afterwards, I'm sure we both felt guilty over what we had done. I know that I sure did! Daniel left soon after we had finished. To his credit, he was way too much of a gentleman to just rush off without feeling guilty that he was abandoning me. I could see that he was really torn over just what it was that he should do.

In the end, he did finally leave. We didn't say anything afterwards about what we had just done. There were no promises of anything; no whispers of love. I got dressed as the enormity of what had just occurred began to sink in. My thoughts were cut short when I heard a knock at the door.

Thinking that Daniel must have forgotten something, I went to open the door. When I opened it, there were two uniformed officers standing there.

"Mrs. Hawthorne," one said, "May we speak to you for a moment?"

My eyes flashed to the road out front.

Oh my god!

It was The Black Creeper!

I can recall my knees giving way as blackness overtook my mind. I don't remember anything else as I fell into oblivion.

(Please check back again soon as the story continues)