I Will Come to You
I Will Come to You
Caity scrambled to wash her hands. A ruined building had partially collapsed on relief workers, right at the end of her shift, and as she was still training, she was told to help treat the minor injuries. If she hurried, though, she would still make it in time to meet Peter back at the university.
She moved with surprising speed despite the cane needed for any sort of distance. The previous summer's ordeal had left her with a stiffened leg, similar to what many polio survivors experienced. Not that it deterred her. Caity devoted so much time between her studies and work that she often spent more time outside the house than within it.
Peter was waiting for her when her taxi arrived. He looked troubled.
"Well, there's a face to be greeted by," Caity jested as she climbed out. "Are summer classes really that bad?" Peter slowly turned to fully face her, and all humor fell from the moment. His left cheek and eye were freshly discolored. "What happened?"
"Couple of boys in our year. They've been strutting about the last few weeks because they've enlisted; I apparently draw attention for preferring to settle down and teach instead of fight."
"So they took swings at you?"
"It was just an argument at first," Peter said without looking her in the eye. "They were taking the mickey out of another student because he said he couldn't get up the courage to enlist. I couldn't stand for it, and confronted them. We ended up throwing a few punches." He hung his head.
Caity touched his cheek gently. "It was admirable, though I wish you didn't get into so many disagreements about this war. How does this sound—why don't we skip the studying for now, go to my house, and fix something nice for supper. I think Father was planning on inviting your family. I could use a relaxing evening, anyway."
Peter was about to answer when the door behind him opened, and two young men in sharp new uniforms appeared. They immediately noticed the couple standing nearby. The taller of the two whistled.
"What do we have here? Looks like the leashes come shorter every day," he commented suggestively. Next to Caity, Peter stiffened. She squeezed his hand.
"Yeah, why don't you let 'im be a man while he still has the chance?" the other chimed in.
"Just ignore them," Caity murmured soothingly. "Let's go home. Forget them." By the time their taxi reached the Millers' residence, the tension had subsided a bit.
"You're home early," Dr. Miller said over the evening radio. "I'm afraid supper's not quite ready yet."
"There's no hurry. We just got bored with the quiet of the library, is all," replied Caity. Peter set the schoolbooks down and pulled a chair out for Caity. She sat down carefully, knowing her father was still attentive of everything she did. They needed a change of subject.
"Anything new on the front?"
Her father gave her a curious look. "You're always asking about news."
"Because Peter's father is out th—"
"I know, I know. I'm no less concerned than you. It's just that reliable news is a little scarce on our end, between the Americans barreling in and our own forces being so secretive after those embarrassing defeats." The doorbell rang. "Ah, that would be your family, Peter. I took the liberty of inviting them to supper, since your mother said that they wouldn't be able to stay for Caity's birthday tomorrow." Dr. Miller left to let them in.
"I keep forgetting that Lucy's play is tomorrow," Peter said apologetically.
"Going to see it is just as fine a present as any," Caity assured him. "Though it would be nicer if your father could see it with us."
"I know. It's been so long since we've heard from Dad. I hope the war ends soon now that the Americans have joined."
"So do I, Peter…" Caity slipped her arm around his.
"There you two are," Mrs. Pevensie broke through the moment. "How was school today? I'm afraid I've been so busy with—Peter, what happened to your eye?"
The boy's hand went instinctively to his face as all eyes turned to him. "Got in a row, is all. University recruits so puffed up they needed a good kick up the—"
"Peter, I will not hear language, whatever they did," his mother interrupted sharply. "They may be childish for picking fights over such a petty frame of mind, but you decided to rise to the bait. Soon they'll be off to training, and you can go back to studying in peace. For now, however, patience will have to do."
"Yes, Mum," Peter muttered to the table. Caity squeezed his shoulder gently before getting up and retrieving a cut of meat form the refrigerator. This she placed over his eye and cheek.
"Leave that on for awhile, and it should bring the swelling down a little It won't look so bad in the morning."
Peter let his hand rest on top of hers for a few seconds before taking hold of the cold meat.
Dinner was a simple affair, owing to war rationing. But June weather was pleasant, and the Pevensies had brought a small chocolate cake. Lucy led everyone in a rousing chorus of 'Happy Birthday.' It was more than Caity could have asked for. Despite the lighthearted festivities, though, the subject soon returned to the war.
"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it," argued Peter. "All I mean is does every man's part of the war effort have to be on the front. You're a doctor. Caity's finishing her training as a nurse. There are other ways to help besides fighting."
"So you wouldn't consider enlisting ever?"
"Not if I can help it. I don't want glory, and I don't need to prove anything. What I've seen of war is enough to tell me that."
Dr. Miller smiled. "Well spoken. I shan't bother you about it further, then."
Caity found Peter's hand under the table. The adults weren't aware, but she, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy all knew what Peter really meant. He was referring to the struggles to free Narnia, of which the Pevensie siblings had been at the forefront. Caity had only been told the stories. The former Kings and Queens never chose bloodshed unless it was impossible to avoid.
"Well, I suppose we should be heading home," said Mrs. Pevensie, rather abruptly. "Tomorrow's a busy day."
In the flurry of activity to clean up, Caity managed to pull Peter into the back hall. "Promise me you'll stay safe. If I could ask for any birthday wish, it would be that a black eye is all you get for this war." She knew it sounded childish, but the thought of Peter appearing in a military uniform kept surfacing in her mind.
"I promise, with all the power I have in this world," he replied, brushing her cheek with his fingers.
"Peter?" Mrs. Pevensie's voice echoed from the front of the house. Peter rolled his eyes, gave Caity a brief kiss goodbye, and led the way out of the hall.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Peter, there's a notice just up for all the blokes in the school! Come on."
"Gimme a moment, Geoff."
"You won't be able to get through the queue and make it to class on time," Geoff warned. He was grinning over his shoulder as he walked away. Peter returned his attention to Caity whom he was walking to class.
"I'm alright from here," she assured him as she adjusted her grip on her cane. "This is about where we part anyway. Go on, don't be late." Her lips touched his cheek before she turned and disappeared down the hallway.
Peter reluctantly headed for the bulletin board, joining the knot of young men around it.
ATTENTION:
MANDATORY meeting for all men aged 18 through 40 years,
at 2.00 this afternoon,
in the gymnasium.
Your professors have already been notified.
"How convenient," Peter said drily. "We're headed for class in the gymnasium anyway. What do you think this is about?"
"Beats me," snickered Geoff.
Despite his friend's lighthearted attitude towards the subject, Peter couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding all the way to class. How many issues would pertain only to the men in the school? Sure enough, the rapidly-growing crowd in the gymnasium was faced by several uniformed officers. Uh-oh.
"If you could be seated and quiet down, please," boomed the foremost of the group. "We wish to take up as little of your time today as possible. As you may have surmised," he gestured his colleagues and the crowd at large, "this meeting concerns the war, and His Majesty's Armed Forces. If the Allies are to achieve victory, we will need the help of men like you.
"You will be tested in several areas over the next few days, after which those of you who meet our qualifications will be notified. Schedules are being distributed as we speak, detailing when and where each group is to report. The first session takes place today. If you have already enlisted, then of course this will be simple for you.
"It is a great honor to serve one's country in such times as these. Not just anyone is requested to do so. If you do receive further notification, it will include information on when and where you are to report next. You will not be simply uprooted from your lives. Now, if we could proceed in an orderly fashion to your first tasks…"
Peter, having reached some sort of numb state by this point, was finally passed a copy of the aforementioned schedule. He would be remaining in the gymnasium, where something akin to the stations of an obstacle course was being assembled. Car tires, mats, a padded climbing wall, and cones were set up around the huge space, and some of the officers were now taking up positions. Once everyone else had left, the group assign to stay were counted off to the different areas and given instructions. There were pushups, pull ups, agility, and a distance run. Peter had always been athletic, though this time he wasn't nearly as pleased with the fact.
The following sessions comprised of various mental and physical examinations. And with each one that took place, Peter grew more and more nervous.
"Perhaps there are exceptions one could request," Caity suggested after the final one. "After all, you are in the middle of getting your teaching license."
"If only it were that easy," groaned Peter. "Except half the officers present kept watching me. Not just watching the group. Watching me. I stick out too much as a candidate to get away with anything."
There's still a chance. Have faith. You'll find your way to where you're supposed to be." Caity slid her arm around his tense one. She was being severely optimistic, possibly even in denial, and she knew it. Yet she had to keep up hope somehow. To dwell on the possibility of Peter having to leave for war would be unbearable.
A stifling week went by. Caity completed her nurse's training with flying colors, though the news only slightly lifted the pall that had settled around the families. Peter took to spending more time away from everyone. For the first time, Caity felt at a loss How could she promise that their fears would never come true?
On the last day of summer classes, she spotted Peter leaving the headmaster's office. He looked as if he faced the gallows. An envelope hung limply in his hand.
"Geoff's got one, too." The expression in his deep blue eyes was one of utter helplessness. "We're to be sent to Dover in three weeks."
The frayed thread of composure snapped somewhere deep in Caity's heart. Tears that had refused to come now burst forth as she suddenly rushed forward to embrace him. His arms held her tightly.
"Don't let go," she whispered urgently.
"I don't think I could bear to," replied Peter. "If I have to do this, if there's no other choice, I need you to help me be strong. Please."
It scared Caity to hear her strong, supportive Peter begging so desperately. He was a courageous and natural leader. But circumstances had changed. No longer was the field of battle filled with archers, swordsmen, and creatures engaged one-on-one. The enemy was collective, bolstered by industry, able to dispatch entire groups of soldiers without them ever getting close enough to fight back. And there would be no Aslan to back them up.