( If anyone is familiar with the video epic of Anne, they know that the
third volume of the Anne of Green Gables series is a departure from the
books. I suppose the gurus of Hollywood thought people would prefer to see
Anne live through the war as opposed to her offspring. So this is based on
the third volume of the Anne movie series, Anne: The Continuing Story.)
(What would have happened if Jack had fought back & lived?) Chapter One: Beginning Again
The lights on the train flickered as the car gave a slight lurch. Anne giggled as she met the eagerly waiting lips of her husband, Gil. Just as they began to deepen the kiss, a muffled shout and crash came from Jack's compartment. Anne drew away from Gil and met his quizzical gaze with one of her own. The sound of a gunshot rang though the car, and Anne gave a start.
"Jack!" she cried, rushing out of the compartment. The car gave another lurch, and Anne braced herself by placing a hand on either wall. Cautiously, she made her way toward Jack. The lights flickered, and in the brief darkness Anne caught sight of a figure fleeing in the opposite direction. As she came upon Jack's compartment, she stifled a scream. Blood had begun to soak through his shirt, as Jack lay sprawled on the floor. Anne nearly fell into the room, her heart pounding.
"Oh, God, don't let him be dead," she wept through her sudden and uncontrollable tears. Anne knelt on the floor and tried to pull Jack into her lap. "Gil!" she turned her head to scream into the hall. But her voice was not her own, only a mere whisper.
"Jack, Jack," she called to the unconscious man. She gathered Jack in her lap, trying to believe he wasn't dead. "Oh, Jack, who did this?"
"Hey, beautiful," Jack said breathlessly, as his eyes fluttered.
"Who did this? What's going on?" Anne repeated. Jack turned and met her gaze.
"Keegan," he whispered. Anne placed a hand on Jack's shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. She drew her hand away, wet with blood. She stared at it in disbelief, and watched as Jack's right arm came across his chest, and feebly flicked at his wound.
"What goes around comes around with outlaws; Keegan must be getting scared." Jack smiled at Anne, all previous barriers broken.
"No, no. It's going to be OK. Gil!" Anne turned again to shout into the hall. She had found her voice and Jack was beginning to frighten her. A frantic note came into her voice as she again cried for Gil. Her beloved husband rushed into the room, concern spread over his features.
"Oh, God," Gil answered, kneeling beside Anne. Jack closed his eyes in pain, and remained silent. Gil took off his jacket and laid it beneath Jack's head, trying to pillow it. Jack met Anne's eyes again, the blue filled with purity.
"Whatever happens to me, take care of Dominic. He loves you."
"You're not dying. Shh," Anne answered, glancing at her husband.
"We need to get him off this train. Get my bag, Anne; I smuggled some supplies. Go, Anne!" Gil ordered at Anne's hesitation. Anne left quickly, allowing Gil to do his well-trained work. She swept Gil's bag off the shelf overhead in their compartment. She nearly overran a steward as she rushed back into the hall.
"Miss? Some of the passengers said they heard a clamor coming from this car. Is everything all right?"
"No. A man's been shot, and he needs to get off this train." The man's eyes shot open in shock.
"Are you sure, miss?"
"Of course, I am," Anne snapped, trying to push past him. But the man was much larger than the petite woman, and he easily stopped her barrage past him.
"I'll speak to the engineer. He can wire for an ambulance to meet us at the next stop." The man rushed off, leaving Anne a bit dazed. Recalling her duty, she hurried back to Gil. She handed him the bag, and watched as Gil ripped open Jack's shirt, exposing a fresh surge of blood down the man's lean body. Anne stared at her old friend in dumbfounded shock before Gil snapped at her.
"He's all right, Anne. He passed out. Get me a blanket. Rip something thin into strips." Gil took out instruments from his bag and began his methodical work. "If we don't get off this train soon, he's going to bleed to death." Anne nodded, and snatched the sheet off the bunk. She began tearing it into strips, trying not to look at Jack's form on the floor. Gill sighed and leaned back on his heels.
"I hesitate moving him, yet being on the floor just makes him closer to the movement of the train."
"I can help," Anne offered, setting the strips aside. Anne placed her hands under Jack's shoulder blades and she caught her breath as he gave a grunt of discomfort.
"Stop! Stop! I was wrong, stop!" Gil shouted, grabbing the sheet strips, and pressing them against the wound. Anne sat on the bunk and let her head fall into her hand. Gil placed a reassuring hand on her knee while keeping one hand pressed against Jack's wound.
"How did it get like this? It wasn't supposed to be like this," Anne cried quietly.
--- .. --- .. ---
"Anne, wake up," Gil shook his wife awake. Anne started awake and glanced about her.
"Where's Jack?" she asked with panic. Gil drew her to her feet and held her.
"We stopped at the nearest station. An ambulance came, and several men helped me load Jack. He started bleeding heavily again, and they're taking him to the nearest hospital."
"Please let me go to him. What if he died, all alone in a foreign hospital, without anyone he knows."
"Of course. Come on." Gil led her off the train and onto the station. It was nearing midnight, and the stars danced in gleeful ignorance of the shattering of Anne Blythe's world. The station's desolation haunted the air surrounding them, and Anne was grateful to climb into a waiting taxi. Gilbert held her hand throughout it all, never speaking a word. The hospital was crowded with wounded soldiers, the lucky ones who managed to crawl off the battlefields and into the nearby towns. Anne watched in awed silence as doctors and nurses bustled about, so sure and confident. Gil took her elbow and led her away from the activity and down a hall, and took several turns.
"They told me they'd take him here. I suppose they're stitching him up now," Gil said, as they entered an empty room. Anne sat on the bed, and smoothed the sheets.
"I know I hated him once. I hated him just a few months ago. But then.suddenly.I saw him. For the first, real time. Not just a writer trying to live up to his father's name, not just a silly boy in a noble's war, and not just a boy with a responsibility he wasn't ready for.but a man. A man with dreams, and challenges, and feelings. He loved Colette, and he loves Dominic." He loves me, too, Anne thought. Gil stood in the door, watching Anne. "He helped me find you. He gave up when I gave up; he pursued when I pursued. He depended on me, and trusted me.even when he knew I disliked him." Anne smiled to herself. "Isn't it funny? He knew I disliked him, but he knew I wouldn't betray him. He made me like him; I didn't have much choice."
"Is there something I can do for you two?" a nurse interrupted. She looked frazzled and ready to snap. Anne offered a smile.
"You wouldn't happen to know about that man who belongs in this room, would you?"
"No, miss, they just told me to make it ready for a patient. Apparently a bad accident and he'll be here at any moment."
"Accident? No accident, he was shot! Do you understand that? He helped the Americans enter the war; he won this war for the Allies. And now he's dying alone somewhere in this cursed hospital!" Anne's voice gradually rose to a frantic scream. Gil stepped forward and held her as he shooed the nurse away with a glance.
"Come, Anne, let's wait somewhere else." Gilbert led her out of the desolate room and up a flight of stairs. Unknowingly, he led her to the nursery, where Anne paused. She stopped a placed a hand against the clear, cold pane. She watched as the infants inside wriggled and writhed, whined and wailed.
"Do you think he misses me?"
"He's all right," Gilbert assured his wife. Since they had been reunited, Gil had continually worried over Anne. She seemed to draw further away from him as time had passed.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd run away and leave me for Jack and his son." Gilbert attempted to lighten the mood. Anne didn't turn towards him, but smiled tautly.
"I would if I knew where Domi was." Gil placed a kiss atop his redhead wife's hair.
"Maybe Jack's back." With a gentle insistence, Gilbert led Anne away from the window. Sighing, Anne allowed herself to be steered away from the newborns. For once her imagination and poetry refuted her. Anne's fairies and sunshine days had disappeared and she was left with the cold, hard reality of the forbidding hospital. The fact that her very dear friend might die sneered at her. It snickered and pointedly laughed before her, leaving her conscience raw.
But Anne did not have to wait long for the reality to tease. As they returned to the impersonal room to which Jack had been assigned, Gilbert caught glimpse of life inside. He gave Anne a reassuring squeeze before pointed towards the room.
"Jack," Anne breathed, her heart catching in her throat. "Do you suppose he's all right?" Anne turned to Gilbert, her gray eyes full of watery concern.
"I don't guess either of us will know until we ask," Gilbert said logically. They entered the room, and the observing nurse looked towards them. Gilbert released Anne and she glided to Jack's side, carefully sliding her hand into his and holding it gently. Gil sidled over to the nurse. He nodded towards the hall, and the two exited quietly.
"Good news," Gilbert announced as he reentered the room. Anne glanced towards her endeared.
"Oh, please, Gil, don't detain it any longer." Gilbert smiled.
"The nurse says they removed the bullet, and they hope for him to make a recovery. They don't know if it'll be full or speedy, and they don't think he'll ever have the same agility or motion with his left arm, but it won't be too disabling." A sob of joy escaped Anne's lips, and she ducked her head.
"Thank God," she whispered, touching Jack's hand to her lips. Gilbert joined her side and kissed her hair.
"No one could ask for a more devoted friend than you, Anne Shirley," Gilbert said, laying his cheek atop her head.
"Blythe," Anne added, looking at him, her gray eyes overflowing with grateful tears, "Anne Shirley Blythe."
(What would have happened if Jack had fought back & lived?) Chapter One: Beginning Again
The lights on the train flickered as the car gave a slight lurch. Anne giggled as she met the eagerly waiting lips of her husband, Gil. Just as they began to deepen the kiss, a muffled shout and crash came from Jack's compartment. Anne drew away from Gil and met his quizzical gaze with one of her own. The sound of a gunshot rang though the car, and Anne gave a start.
"Jack!" she cried, rushing out of the compartment. The car gave another lurch, and Anne braced herself by placing a hand on either wall. Cautiously, she made her way toward Jack. The lights flickered, and in the brief darkness Anne caught sight of a figure fleeing in the opposite direction. As she came upon Jack's compartment, she stifled a scream. Blood had begun to soak through his shirt, as Jack lay sprawled on the floor. Anne nearly fell into the room, her heart pounding.
"Oh, God, don't let him be dead," she wept through her sudden and uncontrollable tears. Anne knelt on the floor and tried to pull Jack into her lap. "Gil!" she turned her head to scream into the hall. But her voice was not her own, only a mere whisper.
"Jack, Jack," she called to the unconscious man. She gathered Jack in her lap, trying to believe he wasn't dead. "Oh, Jack, who did this?"
"Hey, beautiful," Jack said breathlessly, as his eyes fluttered.
"Who did this? What's going on?" Anne repeated. Jack turned and met her gaze.
"Keegan," he whispered. Anne placed a hand on Jack's shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. She drew her hand away, wet with blood. She stared at it in disbelief, and watched as Jack's right arm came across his chest, and feebly flicked at his wound.
"What goes around comes around with outlaws; Keegan must be getting scared." Jack smiled at Anne, all previous barriers broken.
"No, no. It's going to be OK. Gil!" Anne turned again to shout into the hall. She had found her voice and Jack was beginning to frighten her. A frantic note came into her voice as she again cried for Gil. Her beloved husband rushed into the room, concern spread over his features.
"Oh, God," Gil answered, kneeling beside Anne. Jack closed his eyes in pain, and remained silent. Gil took off his jacket and laid it beneath Jack's head, trying to pillow it. Jack met Anne's eyes again, the blue filled with purity.
"Whatever happens to me, take care of Dominic. He loves you."
"You're not dying. Shh," Anne answered, glancing at her husband.
"We need to get him off this train. Get my bag, Anne; I smuggled some supplies. Go, Anne!" Gil ordered at Anne's hesitation. Anne left quickly, allowing Gil to do his well-trained work. She swept Gil's bag off the shelf overhead in their compartment. She nearly overran a steward as she rushed back into the hall.
"Miss? Some of the passengers said they heard a clamor coming from this car. Is everything all right?"
"No. A man's been shot, and he needs to get off this train." The man's eyes shot open in shock.
"Are you sure, miss?"
"Of course, I am," Anne snapped, trying to push past him. But the man was much larger than the petite woman, and he easily stopped her barrage past him.
"I'll speak to the engineer. He can wire for an ambulance to meet us at the next stop." The man rushed off, leaving Anne a bit dazed. Recalling her duty, she hurried back to Gil. She handed him the bag, and watched as Gil ripped open Jack's shirt, exposing a fresh surge of blood down the man's lean body. Anne stared at her old friend in dumbfounded shock before Gil snapped at her.
"He's all right, Anne. He passed out. Get me a blanket. Rip something thin into strips." Gil took out instruments from his bag and began his methodical work. "If we don't get off this train soon, he's going to bleed to death." Anne nodded, and snatched the sheet off the bunk. She began tearing it into strips, trying not to look at Jack's form on the floor. Gill sighed and leaned back on his heels.
"I hesitate moving him, yet being on the floor just makes him closer to the movement of the train."
"I can help," Anne offered, setting the strips aside. Anne placed her hands under Jack's shoulder blades and she caught her breath as he gave a grunt of discomfort.
"Stop! Stop! I was wrong, stop!" Gil shouted, grabbing the sheet strips, and pressing them against the wound. Anne sat on the bunk and let her head fall into her hand. Gil placed a reassuring hand on her knee while keeping one hand pressed against Jack's wound.
"How did it get like this? It wasn't supposed to be like this," Anne cried quietly.
--- .. --- .. ---
"Anne, wake up," Gil shook his wife awake. Anne started awake and glanced about her.
"Where's Jack?" she asked with panic. Gil drew her to her feet and held her.
"We stopped at the nearest station. An ambulance came, and several men helped me load Jack. He started bleeding heavily again, and they're taking him to the nearest hospital."
"Please let me go to him. What if he died, all alone in a foreign hospital, without anyone he knows."
"Of course. Come on." Gil led her off the train and onto the station. It was nearing midnight, and the stars danced in gleeful ignorance of the shattering of Anne Blythe's world. The station's desolation haunted the air surrounding them, and Anne was grateful to climb into a waiting taxi. Gilbert held her hand throughout it all, never speaking a word. The hospital was crowded with wounded soldiers, the lucky ones who managed to crawl off the battlefields and into the nearby towns. Anne watched in awed silence as doctors and nurses bustled about, so sure and confident. Gil took her elbow and led her away from the activity and down a hall, and took several turns.
"They told me they'd take him here. I suppose they're stitching him up now," Gil said, as they entered an empty room. Anne sat on the bed, and smoothed the sheets.
"I know I hated him once. I hated him just a few months ago. But then.suddenly.I saw him. For the first, real time. Not just a writer trying to live up to his father's name, not just a silly boy in a noble's war, and not just a boy with a responsibility he wasn't ready for.but a man. A man with dreams, and challenges, and feelings. He loved Colette, and he loves Dominic." He loves me, too, Anne thought. Gil stood in the door, watching Anne. "He helped me find you. He gave up when I gave up; he pursued when I pursued. He depended on me, and trusted me.even when he knew I disliked him." Anne smiled to herself. "Isn't it funny? He knew I disliked him, but he knew I wouldn't betray him. He made me like him; I didn't have much choice."
"Is there something I can do for you two?" a nurse interrupted. She looked frazzled and ready to snap. Anne offered a smile.
"You wouldn't happen to know about that man who belongs in this room, would you?"
"No, miss, they just told me to make it ready for a patient. Apparently a bad accident and he'll be here at any moment."
"Accident? No accident, he was shot! Do you understand that? He helped the Americans enter the war; he won this war for the Allies. And now he's dying alone somewhere in this cursed hospital!" Anne's voice gradually rose to a frantic scream. Gil stepped forward and held her as he shooed the nurse away with a glance.
"Come, Anne, let's wait somewhere else." Gilbert led her out of the desolate room and up a flight of stairs. Unknowingly, he led her to the nursery, where Anne paused. She stopped a placed a hand against the clear, cold pane. She watched as the infants inside wriggled and writhed, whined and wailed.
"Do you think he misses me?"
"He's all right," Gilbert assured his wife. Since they had been reunited, Gil had continually worried over Anne. She seemed to draw further away from him as time had passed.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd run away and leave me for Jack and his son." Gilbert attempted to lighten the mood. Anne didn't turn towards him, but smiled tautly.
"I would if I knew where Domi was." Gil placed a kiss atop his redhead wife's hair.
"Maybe Jack's back." With a gentle insistence, Gilbert led Anne away from the window. Sighing, Anne allowed herself to be steered away from the newborns. For once her imagination and poetry refuted her. Anne's fairies and sunshine days had disappeared and she was left with the cold, hard reality of the forbidding hospital. The fact that her very dear friend might die sneered at her. It snickered and pointedly laughed before her, leaving her conscience raw.
But Anne did not have to wait long for the reality to tease. As they returned to the impersonal room to which Jack had been assigned, Gilbert caught glimpse of life inside. He gave Anne a reassuring squeeze before pointed towards the room.
"Jack," Anne breathed, her heart catching in her throat. "Do you suppose he's all right?" Anne turned to Gilbert, her gray eyes full of watery concern.
"I don't guess either of us will know until we ask," Gilbert said logically. They entered the room, and the observing nurse looked towards them. Gilbert released Anne and she glided to Jack's side, carefully sliding her hand into his and holding it gently. Gil sidled over to the nurse. He nodded towards the hall, and the two exited quietly.
"Good news," Gilbert announced as he reentered the room. Anne glanced towards her endeared.
"Oh, please, Gil, don't detain it any longer." Gilbert smiled.
"The nurse says they removed the bullet, and they hope for him to make a recovery. They don't know if it'll be full or speedy, and they don't think he'll ever have the same agility or motion with his left arm, but it won't be too disabling." A sob of joy escaped Anne's lips, and she ducked her head.
"Thank God," she whispered, touching Jack's hand to her lips. Gilbert joined her side and kissed her hair.
"No one could ask for a more devoted friend than you, Anne Shirley," Gilbert said, laying his cheek atop her head.
"Blythe," Anne added, looking at him, her gray eyes overflowing with grateful tears, "Anne Shirley Blythe."