Thank you all again for your wonderful reviews! 1936 is officially winding down, and I've been pleasantly surprised at how it's turned out. The wolves were a blast and we had a lot of family stuff, as well. This is the first part of a two-chapter Epilogue, both set in 1940.
Thank you to ColdOnePaul for his ideas/help with this chapter!
Note: There are two italicized paragraphs in the first section that quote directly from FDR's Fireside Chat On National Defense, which aired on the date shown directly below.
May 26, 1940
It was Sunday evening, and we were doing what every family in America was doing tonight: sitting in our living room, listening to President Roosevelt's Fireside Chat. If there was anyone in the country who hadn't been tuning in before now, the title given out for this one would surely get their attention: On National Defense.
He had begun these radio addresses back in 1933, and had continued them on occasion. They hadn't really interested us, being for the most part concerned with the economy, national programs, party, etc. They had certainly brought millions of human Americans comfort and assurance during the Great Depression. But the human world was once again throwing itself into turmoil. The lingering echoes of the Great War had never truly faded, and now things were deteriorating quickly in Europe again. Bombs were falling, people were dying, and names like Adolf Hitler, Benito Mussolini, and Joseph Stalin were echoing in every mind I came across.
I felt like a fool for ever having thought of Aro as a tyrant; he was a kitten compared to these men. I idly wondered what he thought of Fascism... and hoped he wasn't getting any ideas.
Much of the northern hemisphere was in a state of chaos. Jews in Eastern Europe were having their rights taken away weekly now. There were whispers about mass executions in Poland. Stalin was somehow managing to crush his own people, while simultaneously gathering up nation after nation, bulking up his power as he went. He had helped Hitler crush Poland last year, and between the two men, Eastern Europe was quickly being devoured. Stalin was now making overtures of friendship with Japan, in an effort to keep the majority of his strength focused on the European theatre. Japan was stirring up trouble of its own in China, and the United States was quickly losing patience, replacing it with trepidation. But this week, most of the world's attention was on Western Europe.
Last month, Germany had invaded Denmark and Norway. Two and a half weeks ago, Belgium, the Netherlands, and France had been next. The Netherlands were already lost, and Belgium was expected to surrender unconditionally sometime this week. France was still being torn to ribbons, but fighting hard. But it would soon fall, as well- Mussolini had fully committed Italy as an Axis power and was cheerfully helping with the invasion. And then what? Would Hitler turn his eye to Britain? And what about Stalin? Would the Soviet Union achieve its peace with Japan, and what would that mean for the United States? The world was holding its breath to see what would happen next, and those who had clung to the ideal of America burying her head in the sand were finally forced to admit what fools they had been.
The future, and America's role in that future, was a worrying topic. So tonight, the whole country sat in its collective living room and waited for the President's assurance that everything would be all right.
But we weren't going to get it.
"It's about to start," Carlisle murmured, and Rosalie came in from the garage, joining the rest of us as we waited. FDR's voice came through, commanding and yet compelling in its warmth.
At this moment of sadness throughout most of the world, I want to talk with you about a number of subjects that directly affect the future of the United States. We are shocked by the almost incredible eyewitness stories that come to us, stories of what is happening at this moment to the civilian populations of Norway and Holland and Belgium and Luxembourg and France.
I think it is right on this Sabbath evening that I should say a word in behalf of women and children and old men who need help - immediate help in their present distress - help from us across the seas, help from us who are still free to give it.
We listened in grim silence as he went on to describe the horrible events that taking place right now, even as we sat and listened about them.
Emmett barked out a laugh when FDR begged everyone listening to donate to their local chapter of the Red Cross. Carlisle gave him a disapproving frown, and Rosalie smacked him so hard he fell off the couch.
"He was talking about money, Emmett, not blood."
"Still, you gotta-"
"SSHH!" we all hissed. Emmett raised his hands in apology and we listened on as the President continued his update on what he had once called "The War in Europe". Tonight, it was "the approaching storm".
This was no longer a conflict that could be comfortably held at arm's length. This was a World War. Another one. I had been mostly aloof, growing up during the Great War. Without actually knowing too many details, I had assigned most of my hopes and attention to the glory and heroism that I would soon bring to my country, by becoming a soldier. But this time, I just sat with my family, listening in horror as the human world did its best to devour itself, and the rapacious ideologies of a few tyrants crushed all sorts of freedoms under their boots.
America would not be caught unprepared in the approaching storm; that was the theme of tonight's Chat. The President went on to detail the sweeping improvements that were being made to the Army and the Navy. Production of the implements of war was a booming industry, and it would be booming further in the coming weeks. But war was not being declared; it was not even mentioned.
As the President moved on to discuss social issues and economic considerations, Carlisle leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers to his lips as his thoughts moved closer to home, toward England.
Once France fell, there would be no guarantees. My father's homeland would be next in Hitler's sights, and he was still thirsty.
September 7
I graduated high school again, and summer came and went without ceremony. We were planning to stay for another year, at most, so I had decided not to go to college this time. I did, however, begin a correspondence course in Mathematics.
It was a Saturday evening, and I had spent most of the day up in the mountains, hunting alone. I had purposely gone when I wasn't too thirsty, and had had the time of my life wandering through the northernmost part of the forest, tracking my prey at a leisurely pace and observing their habits. I didn't think I would ever be interested enough to study zoology in earnest, but I did enjoy these impromptu "studies" from time to time.
Before heading home, I spent an hour or two perched in the highest branches of a gigantic spruce, closing my eyes and listening to the sounds of the rainforest, as it throbbed with life in late summer. Our four years here had been wonderful, and I was even more in love with the climate, and the landscape, than when we had first arrived. The land here was so alive, and so beautiful. In our previous homes, I hadn't spent much time in the wilderness, other than to hunt. This was the first place where I had actually made a habit of enjoying the nature for itself- sometimes for days at a time, alone. The absence of thoughts was always soothing, and breathing in the damp richness of the woods around me, along with its thousands of native species, made it easy to forget that I wasn't alive, myself. And the hunting here… amazing. It wasn't quite as stocked as it had been in the beginning, since the Elk moratorium had been lifted. But half the fun of hunting was the pursuit, anyway. I had been ridiculously spoiled these past four years with a steady diet of my favorite prey. But in addition to the cougars, I also had developed a liking for bobcat, and surprisingly, Roosevelt Elk. I supposed that even those humans who preferred red meat at every meal tended to enjoy a salad from time to time. I had had elk before, in our other locations, but they had never been this good.
Carlisle and Esme had enjoyed our time here, as well. After he had overcome the initial challenges of having a day job, and the awkwardness with the wolves, my father had thrown himself eagerly into his unusual role as the lone physician in an American frontier. He had brought the hospital as up to date as he could, eventually getting the Board to approve the addition of a children's ward. He had run three safety clinics for the logging companies, kicked off the fundraising for a permanent medical clinic in Forks, and even established an anonymous scholarship for local students interested in attending medical or nursing school. Esme's touch was everywhere at the hospital, as well. What had previously been a barren, ugly building was now a bustling, warm hospital, complete with quiet music, regular volunteers, colorful décor, and what had to be the most adorable children's ward in the entire state.
Rosalie and Emmett loved it here too, though most of their attention was still on each other. Their newlywed enthusiasm had begun- just barely- to slow down, and by some miracle, their cabin was still standing. Emmett, having graduated a year earlier than me, had begun a correspondence course of his own, and was already halfway to a degree in U.S. History. Rosalie still spent all her alone time ensconced in her garage, restoring the Rolls-Royce to its former glory, and beyond. She was a miracle-worker.
The wolves hadn't even been a problem- in fact, we had never heard from them once since the night we made the treaty. There was only one dark spot in our time here, and that was my continued failure with the blood challenges. Carlisle wouldn't have called it a failure, of course- I had made some progress. But it had been painstakingly slow, and even Emmett had passed me in less than a year. I still couldn't comprehend what the problem was, and neither could Carlisle. We even had Emmett stop doing the challenges with me – much to his relief- in hopes that by taking his mind, and his thirst, out of the equation, that I would do better. But it hadn't worked.
I had a theory- that it was somehow due to my years away, and my indulgence in human blood at the time. It wasn't that Emmett hadn't drunk human blood, in his early days, but he had never been on a steady diet, like I had. It was possible that I had permanently ruined my chances at ever coming close to my father's own level of control. I didn't share this theory with him, though- I had no wish to reopen our debate from '35. Besides, there wasn't anything he could do about it. We still did the blood challenges from time to time, but they were getting fewer and fewer. Even Carlisle had to admit that we really weren't getting anywhere. And he hated causing me any kind of pain. The challenges themselves weren't painful anymore, because he had changed the rules last year. I now had to stand even farther away, to the point where I felt a mild ache in my throat but absolutely no venom flow. So it was physically easier, but Carlisle wasn't blind to my building impatience and disgust with myself- and he didn't like contributing to it.
I tried not to be too frustrated, but it was difficult. With each year that passed, I watched my dream of attending medical school slipping farther away. Still, there were other benefits to the small amount of desensitization I had achieved. I was calmer in general now than I had been four years ago, and though I still had quite a temper- especially around my sister- I had fewer outbursts than before. I certainly hadn't broken any phone booths in a while, and Emmett had accused me of getting boring more than once. Whether this was due to the fact that I was four years older, or the blood challenges, I would never know. It wasn't what I had hoped for, but I was grateful nonetheless for the time that Carlisle and I had spent trying, and for the extra inch of humanity it had given me.
I headed home when the shadows began to lengthen. The house was quiet; Emmett and Rosalie were off in their cabin, as usual, and Esme was still at the hospital, reading her Saturday Bedtime Stories to the five or so children staying in the hospital tonight.
I found Carlisle sitting on the roof.
This was never a good sign, and his mind was strangely blank. He wasn't blocking me out; he was simply blank. I leapt up beside him, waiting nervously for him to speak as he continued to stare at the sunset in frozen silence. I knew it wasn't an emergency involving Emmett or the wolves- if it was, we would already be packing. Still, I had never seen him like this before. After three interminable seconds had passed, I couldn't stand it anymore, and cleared my throat loudly.
He stirred to life, turning to look at me with confusion in his eyes. "It's begun," he whispered. "They're bombing London." He gave me a rushed mental playback of the radio report he had just heard. What's this world coming to, Edward?
It wasn't the sort of question that wanted to be answered, and certainly not by someone as young as me. I sat with him in silence as he tried to picture the street he had grown up on, pitted with craters and choked with fire and smoke. He wondered if the church would survive the bombing. He wondered if Nazi combat boots would soon trample his father's grave. He wondered if his homeland, which hadn't truly been invaded for centuries, was finally about to fall.
"I didn't know you cared so much about the Old World," I said, using the term he sometimes used in his thoughts. "I hardly ever see you thinking about London, or your human past, or any of it."
"I usually don't," he admitted. "But in times like this, a man can't help but... I mean, imagine if it was Chicago. Wouldn't you feel something, if that were the case?"
I tried to picture it. I tried to picture my parent's house, flattened to a charred ruin by a German bomb. I tried to remember the faces of my friends- it was so long ago. I tried to comprehend the possibility of the American flag outside my old school, replaced with a swastika on a field of blood-red. As fuzzy as the memories were, the ice that formed around my dead heart felt real enough.
"Yes," I said simply. "I would. But you don't really think it will come to that, do you?" I could picture Britain being overcome, but not the United States. It didn't seem possible.
"It has already come to that, son," he said tiredly. "For millions of people in Europe it has already come to that. For some, in other parts of the world, it's always been like that. There are some people, Edward, that live their entire lives without a single taste of the freedom that we possess here. The world is a dark place, sometimes. Even without men like Adolf Hitler."
I thought about reminding him that these were human problems, but it didn't seem to be the time.
"But that's why you came here," I reminded him. "To the New World. And besides, America will have to enter the war eventually."
Yes, but how long will she wait? And how long will she stand? The Germans aren't the only threat. And if England falls as quickly as France did…
For half a second, I wondered if all of Carlisle's fellow colonists were as shaken by the news tonight as he was. Then I remembered, feeling foolish, that he was the only one left. Of course, there was Garrett.
Garrett was one of the few nomads that Carlisle had encountered since his arrival in the American colonies- he had first run into him in Yorktown, during the Revolutionary War. I had never met any of my father's friends yet, but I remembered that Garrett had fought against the British redcoats, in his human days. I wondered if he was throwing a party tonight, or on his way to single-handedly fight the Nazis. From what little I had seen of him in Carlisle's mind, I could easily picture either one. He sounded like a fascinating person.
"I wonder what Garrett thinks of all this," I said aloud, hoping to snap Carlisle out of his gloom. It worked perfectly.
"Garrett!" he said with a smile. "I haven't thought about him in years. I wonder what he's up to? I wonder what all of them are up to?" I can't believe I've never introduced my family to any of my nomad friends. When did I become so settled?
I snorted a laugh. "You're joking, right? We've moved five times in the past ten years!"
Carlisle finally unwound himself, reclining back on the apex of the roof and laying his head on his laced fingers, staring thoughtfully up at the emerging stars. "We've moved, yes, but we haven't really traveled. It's been so long…" Too long. I don't want all of you growing up, thinking that- He caught himself with a smile. I want you all to see some of the things that I have seen. Yes, I think it would do all of us some good to take a vacation.
What he meant was, it would do me some good. He was picturing the frustrated look I had often sported over these past four years- usually for the few days following our blood challenges. He was thinking now that it was worse every time. I wasn't offended, though- not too much. It would do him good, too. From the growing excitement in his thoughts, I could tell that this was exactly what he needed. I was sure that men all over America were feeling the same way tonight- though not on their rooftops- but how many of them had the freedom to pick up their family and travel the world, safely away from bombs and human suffering?
"How long a vacation?" I asked curiously.
He shrugged. "I don't know. We'd better talk to the others before we make any plans, hadn't we?"
His words filled me with pride. I liked being up here with Carlisle, thinking over family decisions together. It was like it had been in the beginning, just me and him.
Father and son.
.
.
.
When everyone was back together in the house the next morning, Carlisle announced his idea, and it was well-received.
"Of course, we'd be avoiding any war zones, and Europe in general," he qualified. "But other than that, I'm open to suggestions. There are a few friends I'd like to see, but we could also do some different kinds of hunting, in different climates."
"The Amazon!" Emmett said excitedly.
"The African jungle," I added with equal enthusiasm. Now that I thought about it, I would love to try real lion.
"Our island," Esme murmured, slipping her hand up to touch Carlisle's elbow. "Just you and me, for that part."
We all smiled, watching our parents. It made sense, of course- they had been married almost twenty years, and other than their brief honeymoon on Isle Esme, they had never once travelled alone together. It was long overdue, by any count.
Carlisle was speechless. His mind flew through vivid memories of their first visit to the island.
I shuddered. "Moving on, please." Carlisle looked appropriately sorry, and Esme just giggled, her face turned into Carlisle's shoulder.
"I think that's a great idea," Rosalie said. "You two deserve it. That's so romantic, having a second honeymoon. Come to think of it, I've never even had a first one." She nudged Emmett with her elbow, looking hopeful.
"That's debatable," I coughed. Emmett just waggled his eyebrows and thought about-
"All right!" I said loudly. "Let's get back on topic. Carlisle and Esme will go to the island, and you two will go somewhere else, and…" I stopped abruptly. What was I going to do?
"Let's not do it that way," Esme said quickly. "We might be traveling for a while, so there's no rush to all separate at once."
"Agreed," Carlisle said, trying not to look at me. Even Rosalie- Rosalie!- was looking at me with soft eyes and pitying thoughts.
I hated it when they did this. Just because I didn't have a mate didn't mean that there was anything wrong with me, or that I needed anyone to change their travel plans in a misguided effort to avoid hurting my feelings. And I couldn't stand being pitied.
"I'm perfectly capable of enjoying myself alone," I said, as smoothly as I could.
"It's not that," Carlisle said carefully. "It's just that the world is rather uncertain just now, and I don't think it's the time for us to all be running off in different directions."
"It's a human war," Emmett protested. "What do we care if they want to blow each other up?"
"I'm not entirely sure that a vampire wouldn't be killed by an exploding bomb," Carlisle answered. "But it's more than that. Human wars have a way of bringing out the worst in our kind, as well. Battlefields- whether they are military or civilian- have a way of stirring up the nomad populations everywhere, and it's also during wartimes that a lot of newborns get made by accident."
"Like Garrett," I put in.
"Exactly. I don't feel that we're in any sort of imminent danger, as long as we stay away from Europe, but I'd feel more comfortable if we didn't all split up. Besides, it's a family vacation. Perhaps we could make an extended stay in Brazil at some point. Esme and I could spend a couple of weeks on the island, and then, Emmett, you and Rosalie could have a turn, as well. That way we'll be able to all stay close to one another."
Emmett grinned and nodded. Excellent! Whales, nothing. I'm hunting SHARKS.
"Sharks?" I asked, amused. Everyone but Rosalie laughed. She wasn't too happy with Carlisle's Brazil plan, but she decided to think about it later- when I wasn't around, no doubt.
"Oh!" Carlisle exclaimed, looking back and forth between Emmett and me. "I had forgotten about your courses. It would be quite difficult to continue your studies without a permanent address. Perhaps we should…"
I waved my hand dismissively. "I can do it another time- it's just mathematics, after all. Nothing is going to change in the next few years. It was more of a hobby, anyway. Emmett?"
"Course shmourse," he said, thinking of sharks and gorillas. "Let's get going."
"Gorillas?" I echoed incredulously, setting off another round of laughter- fortunately, Rosalie joined in this time.
"It's settled, then," Carlisle said happily. "I'll give my notice at the hospital tomorrow, and we'll put the house up for sale."
"Why?" Esme asked. "We've held onto houses before." I love it here.
"I don't think we'll be coming back here anytime soon," Carlisle said sadly. "Things have gone quite well with the wolves these past four years, but I doubt if our returning to the area would be taken kindly."
"But I like it here," Rosalie argued. "I mean, we all like it here, right? Couldn't we come back in a century or so?" Maybe those mangy dogs will die out.
"Possibly," Carlisle answered. "But possibly not. At any rate, I think it will make the wolves feel better if they see us sell the house."
"Who cares what they think?" Emmett growled. He still hadn't forgiven them for biting Rosalie.
"Emmett," Esme murmured in disapproval.
Emmett quieted, but grinned to himself as he imagined us cutting through Quileute land on our way to our "vacation", and diving into the Pacific from First Beach.
"That's about the dumbest idea I think you've ever come up with," I snapped.
"It was a joke," Emmett said defensively. What's the matter with you?
"Sorry," I sighed. "I guess I'm a little sad to be leaving the Peninsula, too."
So what you're saying is, that you and Rosalie agree on something?
"I-"
Rosalie interrupted us with a gasp. "Wait a minute! Wait, wait, wait! What about the Rolls-Royce?" My baby! It's not even finished!
"I hadn't thought of that," Carlisle admitted. "We could put it into storage somewhere-"
"Storage?" Rosalie echoed in disgust.
"And you and I have fairly new cars," I pointed out to Carlisle. "It would be kind of a shame to sell them, wouldn't it?"
"Well… I guess we could do what human families do in this situation," he mused.
"What's that?" Esme asked.
"Dump them on our relatives," he said cheerfully.
I sighed in defeat. "You can't mean…"
"I do," he replied. "Let's drive everything up to Denali and visit for a while. It'll be a nice way to start our travels."
Emmett punched me in the shoulder. "It'll be fun, Eddie." Polar bears! "And just think, you'll get to see Tanya again!" Ha ha ha!
"You know she misses you," Rosalie added with a smirk.
"I know," I moaned, and everyone started laughing again.
Coming up next: Denali and the Amazon, and then on to 1950 !
