The Innocence of War

On the other side of the world, lies a place called Home...

The first thing that hit me was the weather. As I stepped out of the ship which had brought me to this new land, I was engulfed in sticky hot air. With every breath I took my lungs felt like they were burning. I looked up at the blazing sun as it glared down at us. Whenever my gaze fell upon a face of the rushing crowd, the expression showed the knowledge of their destination. Suddenly I burst into tears while the realization of what had happened to me slowly began to sink in…

It was a regular day in my homeland of France.  I was walking home from school, feeling as if I was on top of the world, having received the badge for grade 4 class captain. There had been news of the war spreading to the European countries, but nobody ever expected it would hit France. The sun was out with not a cloud in the big bright blue sky.   With the start of autumn just around the corner, the sun turned the dying leaves of the trees which grew along the footpath into beautiful golden shades of red yellow and orange mixed together they made the trees look as if they were on fire, in a beautiful way. As I arrived home to our double story home on our street, I was confronted with the scene of absolute chaos. Mother was running all over the place barking orders at our servants like:

“No, don’t pack that!”

“We need food, lots of food”

“Get the kids ready for the journey!”

My brother Philippe was standing next to me in the door way as we stared in confusion. One of our servants Luce came running towards us from atop the stairs. You should know that my name is Francesca and I am the oldest of three children (or soon to be three children). I was 10 at the time and my brother was 8. I also had a little sister named Cecilia who never saw the light of day, as far as I know.

“Mama, what is going on?” I shouted over the noise. Mother looked up from her packing of what looked like the entire kitchen and suddenly, time stood still. The look in her eyes was frantic and scared. She stared at me for the briefest of moments looking like a scared child not a grown adult. All the servants stood still as they waited for Mother to answer. In the silence I thought I heard a pin drop on our marble floor.

“Mama?” I said nervously, my voice shaking.  

“Get them ready” Mother said, nothing more than a whisper. Something in her voice made tears build up in my eyes.  Suddenly the air felt heavy with what was to follow. Luce was standing by my side by now and all I could think of was the look in Mother’s eyes. In my ten years of life I had never seen Mother so scared. Normally she was a vibrant bubbly person who could make you laugh even when life was against you. In the most horrible of situations, she always seemed to turn everything around. I remember last summer when my cousins had to go to Germany, Mother threw a going away party for them and promised us that one day soon we will see them again. At this thought my sunken heart lifted with just the tiniest spec of hope.

“Are we going to see Jack and Florence?” I beamed excitedly. One look at Mother gave me the answer, without a word being uttered. Her face turned white as I spoke my cousin’s names. I was horrified to see her emerald green eyes go fuzzy with tears. This was the first time I had ever seen Mother cry.  Her long black hair shook as her body rattled with the tremors of devastation.

“This way, children” Luce steered us towards the foot of the stairs. What followed felt extremely surreal as everything I was brought up on was turned upside down. It felt like my life was a snow globe and someone had shaken it so hard that everything fell out of place. All the while I was left in the dark about this so called “journey”. All Luce said was:
“You will soon find out” as she packed all our clothes into a black suitcase with a rose in the bottom right hand corner. The way she answered all our nagging questions suggested to me that what was coming did not appear pleasant.

Later that night Luce was sent to Mother and Papa’s room. Whenever this happened, silence filled the house from the dusty attic filled with old toys, down to the gloomy cellar which I always believed was haunted with the houses past owners. As Philippe and I waited for Luce’s return, I entertained him with the story I made up about the ghost in the cellar. While I told my horror story, shouting began where Mother and Luce were. Philippe and I glanced at one another and saw the same look in each others eyes: we were ready for a new adventure. As softly as we could we raced each other towards the top of the stairs. After a few moments of arguing, their voices dropped so that we had to strain to hear them.

“…please…for the children” Mother sounded like she was pleading with Luce. Mother never pleads with anyone except Papa, who was running unusually late.

“Mademoiselle, I’ve known them all my life and I know how much they mean to you, so please don’t ask me to do this” Luce whispered gingerly, as though she was treading on ground covered in land mines. At these words, a sharp rush of air escaped my lips.

“But…you must. You are the only one I trust and with the war raging dangerously close…they must leave. Immediately…please…help…me” Mother said. I did not like this new side to the woman I’ve always known as strong and reliable.

Suddenly with a shock, I realised what was going on: the chaos…news of the war…Papa…the black suitcase with the red rose, which held all our clothes…except Mother’s…Luce being given something to do…which involved the children. It could only mean one thing: we were leaving. No, this can’t be happening. Not now, not ever!

“Okay, I’ll do it. But please mademoiselle, tell my family I love them...and don’t forget about me” her voice squeaked.

I couldn’t take this anymore. I ran to my room and slammed the door hard enough for everyone to hear. I jumped on my bed and buried my face in the pillows. This couldn’t be happening. What about me? What about my friends? And school? My life was about to change dramatically and I was not prepared for it.

***

The cold air flew across my face as we ran across the dark streets of Paris. Luce held my hand tightly while I held Philippe’s. Yes, I was not ready for this, but after a lot of convincing by Luce who has been my friend all my life, I finally agreed. She said it would be like an adventure, a unique experience. One that I can one day turn into a story…

And the second we stepped outside into the cold air of France which I had come to love, it soothed all my aching worries. Suddenly everything felt right. At this moment, the clouds spread apart illuminating our way. Yes, this is a unique experience, I thought to my self while we ran to a big old building standing on the corner of the street. As soon as we stepped into the shadows, two big bright lights appeared from down the street. Panic rose in my stomach as the sound of a loud engine approached us. Luce pulled me back against the grimy walls, covering my eyes with her warm hand. She had left wearing her apron which still smelled like freshly baked bread. 

“Don’t move”, her soft relaxed voice relinquished the growing monster in my stomach. Holding my breath, I stood stock still hoping as hard as I could that we wouldn’t get caught. You see, after Germany took over France, they introduced new laws such as curfew. Who ever got caught out after curfew would be facing a night in jail followed by a court hearing. I had once heard Papa explaining this to our servants, who always left rather late.

The thunderous sound of the engine vibrated beneath my feet. Suddenly it stopped and the thud of two pairs of boots hitting the cobblestoned street filled my ears. I started praying silently in my head that God will make these people go away, and make our journey to a safe place easy. Mama had said on our goodbye that we will see her again and that this was only temporary, after the war everything will go back to normal, she had said. But her voice was not convincing and as I stood awaiting my fate, I found myself thinking of my cubby house. It was in our back garden where a great big oak tree stood. It had been there since before we had bought the house, and somewhere hidden in its ancient leaves, lay my cubby house. Papa had built it for my tenth birthday, while Mother was completely against the idea because of how high it was. From the instant I laid eyes upon it, I loved it. It became my secret place which only I had the key to. I remember thinking that if one piece of my old life could be saved I wished for it to be my cubby house. I made a promise to myself that I would return to it and my family, one day.

The boots were moving now. One was coming close, while the other further away. I shrank back against the wall, wishing that I could just evaporate into thin air.  They began to speak in a language I didn’t understand.   Their voices sounded angry with someone or something. Please make them go away. The boots close to our hiding place came so near, that I heard the heavy breath of their owner.  My own breath caught in my throat at the hideous raggedness of the process. Dead was not a word that I liked to think about, but right then the thought popped into my head. What would it be like to die? Does it hurt? Or is it magical? Suddenly, I wasn’t so scared anymore; curiosity had gotten the better of me. I felt Luce lean over the side of the wall, then shrink back as fast as lightning. Her grip drew me closer to her. For a moment, everything was silent. I waited for a reaction of some kind from anyone or anything, even the soft breeze had come to a stand still. There was only one: the sound of an order being spoken in that language I didn’t understand. The boots began walking away, further away. Luce leaned over again, this time her hand covering my eyes moved to my hand and pulled me with her.

Before I knew it we were running again. Faster this time, with a somewhat frantic state of mind. We ran to the outskirts of outer Paris which is not that far from our house, when the shooting started. We were resting at a water pump on the side of the now dirt road. My heart was beating against my chest, like a trapped animal trying to escape its steal cage. I was looking up at the sky just as the big full moon appeared out of nowhere, thinking how beautiful this world is, when I heard the dreadful sound of bullets flying in the distance. I don’t exactly know how I knew that the small cylinder-pointed metal objects were the source of the awful, sharp deafening sound that filled the air long after they were finished. I fell to my knees and began crying. Now I understood why Mother seemed to cry so often in the past few months. She hated war. And so did I.

***

The morning sun rose above the horizon somewhat hesitantly over the dark field of grass. After the terrifying event last night, Luce tried her best to calm me down, but I knew all too well what was happening. We walked further away from Paris (further away from Mother and Papa) until we reached a small town on a cliff which faced the ocean. As we approached it I heard the most beautiful sound that had ever filled my ears: the sound of crashing waves.

I thought we would be staying in a hotel of some kind preferably a decent hotel. But last night was a night of many lessons. I had finally learnt how spoilt I was. Because there was no hotel of any decency, we ended up sleeping under a big apple tree. Luce said that if we didn’t want to get caught, this was the best way to avoid it. And it wasn’t all that bad. Luce had packed two warm blankets and a candle with matches that she left alit until Philippe and I were fast asleep. This didn’t take long because all I can remember is eating some homemade bread with cheese and the next thing I knew, I awoke to the morning call of an owl at twilight.

I was the first to wake up so I decided to climb the big apple tree to get a better look of our surroundings, and to pick some apples for breakfast. The view was breath taking and the further I climbed, the more of the vast stretching ocean I could see. As night slowly drew close to its end I looked down at Philippe who was sucking his thumb, a habit that he hates to admit, and Luce was sleeping opposite him looking so peaceful in her dreams that I dared not disturb her. I bit into the sweet tasting apple and watched as the first of the sun’s rays penetrated the open Atlantic.

The full moon was still up, somewhat refusing to fall just yet. What lay before me was nature at its best. I watched in awe while the moon and sun fought to dominate the sky. It was magical to see the sky split between light and dark. I felt like I was dreaming, as if I was part of a magical fairytale, and I wished for it to never end.

***

“Run!” Luce screamed while the soldiers grabbed at her arms. I was hiding behind two big wooden crates with Philippe as we waited for Luce to return. She had gone to the general store to buy food for us. But she never returned.

We had spent just two days in the town by the ocean when soldiers started arriving in search of someone named Luce Marcel. After she found out that she was wanted we made a plan if she ever got caught. And now she had. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t take Philippe and run to the nearest ship like I was supposed to while knowing that I would be abandoning the woman who sacrificed her life for our safety. It just wasn’t right. So I stayed crouching while watching her fight the soldiers who were now pinning her to the ground.

“What do we do?” Philippe whispered, sounding angry and frightened all at once.

“We’re going to fight”, I growled as I watched the wild look in Luce’s golden brown eyes.  

“Leave her alone!” I cried, grabbing a rotten tomato from a nearby crate and throwing it as hard as I could at the soldiers. It landed with a splash on the soldier who had his back to us. He stiffened for a second then turned to face me. Philippe was starring wide-eyed, looking from the soldier to me and back again, trying to stifle a laugh. I glared at the man ready to throw another tomato, this time at his face. His features were unreadable while he straightened his uniform. Philippe grabbed a tomato and held it out, threateningly.

“Ready?” I whispered through gritted teeth. My heart was beating dangerously fast in my chest but I was not frightened. I was angry with everyone, Mother for making me leave my life, Luce for making me sleep on the floor and now this stupid soldier who was going to take the last piece that reminded me of my old life: Luce. I had finally snapped. My hand tightened around the dripping tomato. I dared to look into her eyes and I was surprised to see the anger evaporate to sincerity. I could not loose her, not now.

After saving Luce we ran down to the cove where the docks stretched out over the Atlantic. Luce lead the way to a ship called the Serithia which she had known the captain of and helped us on board. But the soldiers weren’t far behind and were probably angrier than ever. If this was not a life or death situation, I would have laughed at their appearance: the rotten tomatoes had stained their navy green uniforms as well as their faces.

“Stop them!” one yelled in French with a strange accent. But instead of the people helping, they stood and laughed at the soldiers’ comical appearance. This was the first sound of laughter that I had heard in days, and it was contagious. Before I knew it I was laughing with the crowd of onlookers. Luce cracked a smile too, a real one this time.

Philippe and I were standing on the deck watching her go to lift our suitcase when I realized that the laughter had stopped. Something deadly filled the air. Then I saw the gun…pointed at Luce…and the malicious smile of the soldier behind it.

“Luce!!!!” I gasped. She looked up at me, startled by the terrified expression that read across my features.

But it was too late. The bullet sliced through the air faster than I could have ever imagined. Its explosive exit from the gun was so loud, that it was unbearable to hear. Luce didn’t scream, she just fell to her knees and closed her eyes, letting herself look at the world for one last time. Then she collapsed on the deck in a heap.

“No!!!!!!!” I screamed as I ran to her side. Tears streamed down my cheeks while I held her dying body in my shivering arms.

“Please Luce…” I whispered while my life came crashing down. There was nothing more I could do but stay by her side. She gripped my hand tightly and whispered something too soft for me to hear. I leaned closer to hear the last words of Luce Marcel:

“Francesca Imperiou,” she swallowed “the world is not a bad place; it just needs people like you to change it” and she slid her most prized possession into my hand.

***

…remembering her words I wiped away the tears, took our suitcase from the captain of the Serithia and lead my brother to a seat on the docks of this unfamiliar land. I closed my eyes and let the soothing sounds of nature calm my aching body: the soft splash of waves as they lapped around the Serithia, the squawk of gulls as they flew over the greenish blue ocean and the creak of wood as the crowd of people stepped over it. My eyes snapped open at the call of a strange creature that I had never heard. The trees in this part of the world were taller and slimmer and there were a lot more than in Paris. Even the ocean looked an odd tinge of very strange green sea grass. My gaze drifted to the shore line where the remarkably white sand seemed to stretch for miles. It almost looked like the white powder that our servants used to use when making bread.

“What do we do now?” Philippe asked in a tired voice.

“I don’t know” my voice was barely more than a whisper.

Suddenly a shadow was cast over me. I stared up to see to whom it belonged. It was a man with a gentle smile holding a book in one hand and a pen in the other. He smiled down at me then said something in another language.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand you, sir” I said staring down at the eroded wood feeling ashamed that I had never bothered to learn another language.

To my surprise, the man answered in fluent French, introducing himself as Nicholas Henderson. I stared up at him in shock.

“Where are you parents?” the question was simple enough, but I still felt a stab of pain in my heart.  I looked back at the wood and tried my best to hold back the tears.

“I’m sorry” he said softly.

“Look, you must be hungry, come with me, I’ll take care of you.” He held out his hand. I glanced at Philippe and saw him waiting for my answer. Then I pulled out Luce’s ring. It was silver with a large blue sparkling sapphire placed in the centre, and on the inside the words “Marcel " 1849” were engraved in smooth, sharp letters. This was no ordinary ring, this was a families’ heirloom. Almost 100 years, I thought as I held it in my hands before putting it on and taking the hand of this kind stranger. This was it. The beginning of my new life in a land called Australia.

 

The end

 

Author's Note

please be very critical and honest about what you think of this story. Just try and ingnore the grammatical errors.

Thanks ^_^

Reviews

[Nothing Personal]

Another well described tale. It has innocence, it has pain, it has anguish, it has vivid imagery and a wonderful romanticism. My best part is when Francesca sits on the apple tree and stares into the sky..Oh you have done such a masterstroke there with your concept , description and delivery. I liked the story..However, one thing : I could not understand how the children managed to escaped the wrath of soldiers by hurling tomatoes and How they were spared when Luce was killed. I felt those sections a bit sudden and rushed if you know what I mean. In and all. a good story. I really enjoyed reading it...

[CalebSchadeck]

i'm lost at how she initially got to Australia, and I think the stroy would flow alot better in a third person piont of veiw with the main character telling it from the future. I can see where it is going and Throughout the whole story you grow to fall in love with the main character which I like, great story

[CalebSchadeck]

im sorry I could only had time to read to the first set of stars dividing the story but the beginging is great.... I have a hard time telling what time period that the story is set in i think you should make that clearer from the begining. I shure the rest is great as the begining and I look fwd 2 reading it soon