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Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1925129
Entry for A Monthly Calendar Contest-March 2013.
Winner of "Monthly Calendar Contest for March 2013.





Brooklyn, 1916



Patricia crawled on her hands and knees until she could press her ear to the crack in her mother’s bedroom door.  There she overheard the hushed conversation between her mother Colleen and her aunt Bridget.

“But she’s only fourteen,” Bridget said.  “Surely he’s aware of that.”

“He is, and he’s made up his mind,” Colleen said.

“When is it to happen?”

“Upon his death.”

“Which shouldn’t be too long now.”

“I know it must come as a shock, but is it really?  She was always his favorite, and it’s time to face the truth that the rest of them are gone, and are never coming home.”

Patricia heard a sniffle before Bridget replied. 

“How can you be so matter-of-fact about it?” Bridget whispered.  “Your own son is thought to have been killed by this God-awful war.  Have you become that hardened to it?”

“I’ve accepted it, and I trust that the Lord knows what He’s doing.  Now if you’ll excuse me—“

As Colleen walked toward the door, Patricia sprang from the floor and ran toward her favorite closet to hide in.  It was the coat closet in the hallway, and she’d spent many moments hiding in that closet, from many people.

“Don’t be offended,” Bridget said from the other side of the closet.  “I only meant –“

“I know what you meant, and I’d rather not talk about it.  Now if you’ll simply – Patricia!”

Colleen stood holding the door open and found her youngest child sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

“What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing,” Patricia said as she brushed past the two women and attempted to run toward her bedroom. 

“Not so fast,” Bridget said, catching her by the hand.  “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Do you really mean it, Auntie?” Patricia asked, wide-eyed.

“Of course!”

“This will be my first trip to Luna Park ever!”

“Then let’s make it a good one!”

***

It was the day before the parade, and everything was already abundantly green.  The Helter Skelter slide loomed above Bridget and Patricia in Luna Park on Coney Island.  Patricia wanted to go, but it seemed to be so high up.

“I’ll go with you,” Bridget said.

“Oh, will you?”

“Of course, my dear.”

“I only wish Hugh were here to see it.”

“Your brother would’ve loved it, I’m sure.”

“He’s never coming home, is he, Auntie?”

Bridget took Patricia’s hand and squeezed it, but said nothing.

They made their way up the giant slide, and held onto their hats as they flew down at amazing speeds.  Both screamed madly while many observing bystanders chuckled.  When Patricia said she would go again, Bridget said she would wait for her at the bottom.

Another episode of screaming was to ensue, but when she reached the end of the slide, Patricia didn’t find her aunt.  She looked left and right, to the top of the slide and around the back.  It appeared that she had gone missing.

***

When Colleen opened her front door and found a policeman on the other side, she didn’t know what to think.  When she saw her daughter cowering behind the officer, her imagination went wild.

“Ma’am, let me explain,” the officer said.

He proceeded to explain how Patricia had been abandoned in Luna Park and sought the authorities so she could return home.  Having no money on her person, she couldn’t have made the trip by ferry and foot even if she did know how to get back home.

Her heart racing, Colleen clenched and unclenched her hands as she paced in front of the officer.  Patricia sat in the corner of the kitchen looking defeated.

“She’s a brave little one,” the officer said, nodding at Patricia.

“Yes,” Colleen agreed.

After she saw the officer out, Colleen returned to the kitchen to face Patricia, who still cowered in the corner. 

“My sweet girl,” Colleen said, dropping to her knees and grabbing Patricia’s wrists.

“What?”

“If anything happened to you too, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

***

“Happy Birthday, Patricia!” Colleen said.

“Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Mother!”

It was their annual ritual of the dual greeting, and Colleen always prepared a green birthday cake for her daughter.  The custom was to share it with Bridget, but she was nowhere to be found.  They tried to be cheerful in spite of her absence, but when a knock came at the door, they both jumped to their feet, anxious.  After a moment of staring at each other, they both ran to the door.

“Beg your pardon, ma’am,” a young man said. 

“Yes, can I help you?” Colleen said.

“I’ve a letter for you.”

Colleen took it, curious.  After closing the door and reading its contents at the kitchen table, she began to sob.  Patricia nervously asked her what was the matter.

Colleen explained that Bridget had run away.  She gave no explanation, simply that she felt she needed to make a new life for herself.  Colleen knew it was because she lost her husband and son in the war.  The war had touched everyone, and it wasn’t over.

Another knock sounded at the door and they started, their nerves on edge.  Rushing to open the door in the hopes to find Bridget, Colleen found another boy with another letter.

This letter bore the news of Colleen’s uncle’s death, after which Patricia would be the heiress to his humble fortune.  It was bittersweet with the news of Bridget’s departure.

A third knock had Colleen shouting expletives before flinging the door open with a wild look on her face, ready to do battle with whoever was on the other side.  She wasn’t prepared for who stood before her then.

“Spare a meal for a lone soldier?” Hugh asked. 



Word count = 960

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