^^ Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
It was quiet when Chelsea and Vaughn returned home from the Mirabelle's shop. No words had been spoken after leaving the shop. Adrian was fast asleep at that point. Chelsea sighed, closed his bedroom door, and began to pace. Vaughn watched her. He felt nothing but cold hard fear. If he was picked he would never see her again, his Chelsea. This was a fact and it was gnawing at him.
She looked up at him smiling. That did it; he was in no mood for her optimism, it's like she didn't even care! His look turned into his customary glare
"Why the hell does this not bother you?" he snapped. Her smile fell from her face.
"Vaughn…" she whispered looking down at the wooden floor. "Everyone we know is either excited or scared at this point. But if you think I'm not bothered by this, then you're wrong. It would have been one thing if you were fighting somewhere else. You may end up going to the very front lines…not many people make it back…" Chelsea began to cry for the first time since the announcement. She hiccupped, "M-maybe you won't get picked? M-maybe they'll-"
Vaughn just let go of her arms. "Be realistic! Every effing guy here is going to get picked!" he spat venomously "We've all heard what happens to people fighting in the war. It's a death sentence." With that remark, Chelsea began to cry even harder.
She turned away from him, and ran to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Chelsea curled up into a ball when she hit the bed and sobbed harder. Vaughn was right, it is a death sentence. Not even her optimism can shield her from the terrible truth. Her hear t felt like it was breaking, she may never see him again. She'd never be held by him, or see his rare smile. And if the war was lost….she shuddered at the dark thought.
Chelsea felt a hand on her back. She knew who it was, but she didn't look up. Instead she whispered. "I'm scared Vaughn. Believe me, I'm so scared and I can't bear it."
"…I know, so am I." he mumbled. He gently embraced her from behind. He could feel her tremors. Feeling bad about his earlier accusation he placed a kiss on the back of her neck.
"But whatever the outcome is tomorrow Chelsea, I need your support. Goddess knows I need you."
"It's like a Goddess damn show to these people." Vaughn growled. Denny looked up at his friend. They may never agree 100% of the time, but today he did.
"There are so many of us, I never realized how popular the island got." Said Elliot thoughtfully.
There was five large tents set up on the beach. The ominous battle ship still looming over the beach. The men were in line with many others. Vaughn was behind Denny and in front of Elliot. They've been waiting in the long line since 7:20, ten minutes before they were suppose meet. It was 11:30 now. Curious villagers were at a distance, watching to see if a loved one, a father, a son, a brother was qualified to fight.
Chelsea was by his side when they got to the beach, but a solider had asked her to wait amongst the crowds.
"Vaughn…"
"Just wait for me at home Chelsea," he replied. "I know you're busy harvesting today."
She had just smiled and kissed him on the lips. "I'll see you at home, love."
It had been an interesting turn out; almost all of the young men were waiting in line. Most were given the call to war. But there were a few exceptions…
"This is horse shit that we have to wait this long…."grumbled Vaughn.
Denny grinned cheekily. "Could be worse, you could actually be shoveling horse shit from the barn."
Elliot couldn't help but giggle at the comment. Even Vaughn smirked a little.
"Believe me, I'd rather be doing that."
"Hey Vaughn, isn't that Pierre?" asked Denny. And indeed, the petite man came sprinting from a tent to the trio.
"Y-you're all never going to believe this." Panted Pierre.
"Have you been drafted?" all three asked.
"No! They said that although my culinary skills could be of much use, my stature would make me vulnerable and-"
"So they said you're too short." Vaughn said bluntly.
Pierre grew red from embarrassment. "In so many words…But it's not just that…" He glared at Denny who hooted with laughter.
"T-That's too funny!" he choked. "I never really thought about it, but Pierre, you're freaking tiny!"
"Oh shut up will you!" Pierre snapped. "I also am exempt because I'm a Gourmet you idiot! I'd be an easy target because of my celebrity status, not because I'm…petite."
Denny just continued laughing. Pierre, offended and embarrassed, stormed off.
"You know Denny…you shouldn't laugh at Pierre because he was denied because of his height." Said Elliot.
Vaughn added darkly, "Yeah, you might be drafted, and then who's going to be the one laughing?"
*silence*
"You know Vaughn," said Denny in a weary tone. "You're a buzz kill."
Vaughn just grunted in response.
"Name?" said the man behind the desk. Vaughn finally made into the tent. His insides were twisting and he felt like throwing up. But he still kept his stone façade.
"Vaughn Vaults."
"Age?"
"33."
"Current occupation?"
"Animal Dealer at Mirabelle's Shop, part-time rancher at the Sun Dance Ranch."
Ok, Mr. Vaults, I'll need you to go into the next tent to cover physicals…"
And that's how things went. People asking him a questions then being moved to the next tent.+
It was only after an hour in the fourth tent (Which was a waiting tent, go figure." That he finally was called over to the fifth and final tent. He was greeted by the captain.
"Vaughn Vaults?"
He grunted in response. Captain Falkner looked up, a little bit irritated. He continued.
"As an order from the main land, you are to be drafted and will be serving your country on the front lines…"
Vaughn had stopped listening by then. He had heard enough. His face was blank, but he was screaming on the inside. Screaming and cursing. His fate had been set.
"We will depart in three days." Was the last thing Vaughn heard before he numbly nodded, grabbed his folder with information, and stumbled out of the tent.
He ran straight into Denny the second he stepped out of the tent. They both looked at each other with grim faces. No words passed by them, it was just unsaid. They both were going to be sent to fight. Both men decided to wait for Elliot, who approached them not that long after.
"I'm going to be sent to fight..." he whispered. Looking at the other two, new they also had been given the same news.
"What division are you going to?" he croaked. Denny looked up, and replied "27th division."
"Same," Elliot looked sick, "What about you Vaughn?"
Vaughn looked at his information, "29th division." He said emotionlessly.
Denny shook his head, "How the hell am I going to tell Lanna …?"
'Good question.' thought Vaughn
'How am I going to tell Chelsea this?'
Chelsea was humming as she threw in the last of the strawberries. She smiled. 'This is going to be a good shipment.'
Looking over her farm, she inhaled the sweet spring air. It was a rare moment where she could think. She was thinking of anything, trying to avoid thinking about the war.
Chelsea was a legend. She started with nothing, practically raising the island out of the dirt to the status that it has today.
She had many cows, sheeps, and chickens grazing on the long grass outside the large barns. Fields of growing wheat sprouted next to the patches of growing fruits and vegetables. Her green house was also thriving off of fall plants.
It wasn't just her farm that she was proud of. Chelsea had many, many friends that she made over the years. Everyone respected her, as a farmer, and as a caring neighbor.
And her family. Her son was growing up so fast. He has his father's facial structure and most of his personality. Adrian was quiet, observant, and blunt. But Unlike his father, Adrian was gentler. Vaughn. She blushed, thinking of her lover. Vaughn wasn't the most dotting of men, but he definitely loved her. No, he was not the type of man to profess his love in public; he still even had trouble kissing her in public because of his embarrassment. But he didn't have to declare his love to the world. Chelsea knew that his love for her was great. He only smiled for her and Adrian and that was enough proof for her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a figure moving up the path to her farm.
Vaughn.
She rushed over and embraced him. She look up to his face, which was covered by his hat. Smiling she said, "Welcome home, Vaughn!"
Normally, she got a grunt out of him. But not a sound. Her smile slowly faded.
"Vaughn? Is everything OK?"
"Chelsea…" he gently touched her face. "No…"she whispered She closed her eyes. 'Please Goddess, no…'
"I've been ordered to go and fight."
