Awakenings
"And so goodnight. We go over the top at dawn."
Walter Blythe awoke with a resounding ache in his head, and those last words he wrote to Rilla repeated in his head. Slowly he opened his eyes to find that he was the last place he expected to be; a clean bed in what appeared to be a hospital. It was definitely a far cry from the mud and blood soaked No Man's Land, which is where he thought he would be. Wherever he was smelled so very sterile as compared to the stench that permeated throughout the trenches of the Western Front that his nose burned. He cracked open his eyes a bit to be blinded by bright sunshine streaming from a window. The brightness caused him to flinch, thus garnering the attention of the man sitting in a chair next to him.
"Johnny? Are you awake? Come on, old friend. Wake up! We need to you wake up... soon," the man told him while gently tapping his cheek.
"Johnny?" Walter asked in a confused haze. He wondered where he had heard that before. It sounded very familiar to him. He reopened his eyes to see the man who did look very familiar to him and told him, "You must have me mistaken sir with someone else. My name's Blythe, Private Walter Cuthbert Blythe of the 1'st Canadian Infantry Division. Where am I?"
The man sat down as if to steady himself. "Walter?" he asked quietly. "You say your name is Walter Blythe from Canada?"
"Yes sir, Prince Edward Island, Canada to be exact; a little town called Glen St. Mary. My father's the local doctor there. I was a student at Redmond University before I joined up last year."
"Last year?" the man asked. "What's the last thing you remember, Mr. Blythe?"
"Walter's head ached as he recalled, "I remember going over the top at dawn to take over Courcelette. Things were bad straight from the beginning. We were using those new tanks. They were supposed to lead the way, making it safer for us. They moved too slowly, and caused more confusion than good, though in the end, I suppose the objective was obtained. We fought hard to get what little ground we obtained. The Germans were well entrenched there, and our artillery hadn't cleaned it all out."
"We were advancing fairly well, though the Huns gave us as much as we gave them. By eight in the morning, we had made it to the Sugar Factory. I knew what time it was because the church bells were ringing, or whatever was left of them was. That was when I saw my friend Tommy fighting hand to hand with a German. The German had the edge on Tommy and managed to shoot him in the chest. I screamed and ran to him. Tommy fell to the ground. I knocked the gun from the German's hands and we wrestled on the ground."
"A blind anger took over me. I suppose that anger was what kept me alive as long as it did. He tried to choke me with my dog tags; thankfully, they broke off my neck. The release allowed me to grab my knife and finished the German. I killed him, you know? I took that boy's life. I didn't want to kill him, but I had to. I saw the light go out in his eyes." Remorse coursed through his soul and he openly began to weep at the recollection.
The man patted his back, "We all did things then that we're not particularly proud of. What else do you recall?"
"I ran back to Tommy, who was shaking violently and complaining of it being so cold. There was nothing cold about the weather on that day. I knew my friend was dying. I wrapped my coat around him. I tried to carry him to an ambulance but there was too much artillery fire and smoke and I couldn't see where I was going. Then a shell exploded somewhere, and everything went black. The next thing I recall is waking here."
The man sighed, contemplating whether or not to call for a doctor or a nurse. Finally he asked, "Do you not remember anything from the last eight and a half years, Mr. Blythe?"
"Eight and a half years?" Walter asked - the pounding in his head growing louder and louder. "Have I been here all that time?"
The man shook his head. "No, no sir, you've only been here for a few hours. You were in an automobile accident."
Walter thought hard about this information and told the man, "Yes, it's rather foggy, but I seem to recall hitting my head on the steering wheel just after seeing someone fly out of the car. That someone's my wife, isn't she?" Walter asked as the fog slowly began to clear in his head. "Gideon!" he exclaimed, remembering the man next to him. "You're Gideon!" You're married to Ginny, and you have four children. I'm married! I'm married to Katie, and we have a son and a daughter." Walter stopped for a moment, then suddenly said, "Hope looks like my mother! She acts like her too! She's not a hop-out- of-kin. We're expecting another child too." His eyes grew dull and serious as he asked Gideon this next question, "Tell me Gideon, what happened to Katie - to the baby? Where are they?"
Gideon was thrilled that his friend had not forgotten him and more importantly Katie and the children. "Katie's..." she didn't know how to tell Johnny - Walter this. It tore him up emotionally to have to be the one to do it, but he had to. "Katie's in a bad way, John er, I mean Walter. She's in a real bad way. You know she was thrown from the car?"
Walter nodded, and Gideon continued to tell him the details of Katie's injuries. "Well, she landed on her left side, and broke her leg in two places, her arm, her shoulder, and a couple of ribs."
"Can I see her?"
"She's in surgery right now, Jo-Walter. There's some complications with the baby." Gideon didn't know exactly how to say the rest, so he just offered his condolences and stayed with his distraught friend until the doctor came to examine him. A little while later, Walter was told to take it easy for several days, but that he was free to go home. Home was the last place Walter wanted to be without Katie. He had so much that he wanted to tell her, but even when she made it through the surgeries, yes surgeries, she was expected to remain unconscious for a length amount of time.
Ginny, somewhere - at some point Ginny had appeared, urged him to go home to rest and see Tenny and Hope. He refused though. He dared not leave Katie's side, lest she awake. Her face - her angelic face had been the first site his eyes had seen when he awoke after Courcelette, and he was determined that his face would be the first she would see when she awoke - if she awoke.
She seemed so pale and small in that starched, white hospital bed. She always had been just a slender slip of a thing with a figure that he had to acknowledge was "light and pleasing." Now she only seemed frail; such a fragile little thing. She was but a faerie, a nymph, no she always was so much more than that to him. She was everything, and everything had suddenly become such a broader term with the return of his memories - his identity. He would trade every last memory of Rainbow Valley and the Harbour Light just to see her green eyes shine again.
Somehow Ginny knew to bring a copy of Tennyson for Walter to read to Katie as she slept her deep slumber. He didn't need the text though, the words had never left him though he never recited with as much emotion as he did at Katie's bedside. With every verse, every meter of rhyme he shed salty tears upon the bedside, awaiting his Elaine to awaken.
Sometimes tears are the heart's prayers that the body is too weak to voice, and Walter's tears were heard that night. Something stirred in the bed as Walter cried. He heard a low moan and lifted his face just in time to see the brilliance of her eyes once they opened. Brilliant they were, but with a more ethereal brilliance than he had ever before seen.
In a hoarse whisper she asked, "Why does my love have tears in his eyes?"
"They're tears of joy upon seeing you awake, my dear," he answered between sobs. "I have so much to tell you, and so much love for you at the same time that my cup runneth over."
Katie studied his face and knew that something about him had changed. "You remember now, don't you?"
He kissed her forehead softly, "I remember everything. I remember my name. I remember my mother and father, all of my brothers and sisters, Susan who helped in the house, I remember the house's name, and I even remember the names of the cat."
"Names?" Katie asked.
"Yes, names. Some days he was Dr. Jekyll and some he was Mr. Hyde. So, we called him both."
"Do you remember anyone else?" she asked. "Someone with haunting eyes, perhaps?"
"You, my Katiest of Katies are the only love my heart has truly known. I had close friends and infatuations, but never was there anyone but you. It truly was Providence that crossed our paths in war-torn France," he honestly told her.
"What then is your name? Johnny never really suited you at all - it just stuck."
"My name is Walter Cuthbert Blythe."
Katie looked him over as if in a new light, "Walter. That suits you ever so much more than Johnny. Yes, Walter. It seems to match those lovely eyes of yours. Blythe isn't a terrible surname either. Katie Blythe. Hope Blythe. Tenny Blythe. Walter Blythe. It all sounds perfectly conjured - like out of a book."
"Can you tell me how you feel, dearest?" Walter asked, noticing a wince of pain after she took a deep breath.
Then suddenly Katie knew that things were far from fine, "I'm sore and hurt what feels like all over my body and inside. Breathing hurts, and I feel empty. +"Walter," she whispered imploringly, "the baby--is all right--isn't it? Tell me--tell me."
Walter was a long while in turning round; then he bent over Katie and looked in her eyes. Ginny, listening fearfully outside the door, heard a pitiful, heartbroken moan, and fled to Gideon's arms where they wept together.+
Walter and Katie sat a long while in tearful silence thinking of the child they never knew. Then with a sudden rush of determination, Katie announced, "I can't think of this right now. It-it hurts too much, and everything seems to hurt too much. Please, please Walter tell me all about your life before the war. Tell me of your family, your friends, and your dreams. I get to fall in love with you all over again it seems."
"Well, only because you want me to. I've never been fond of talking about myself. Now my older brother, Jem, he is a little more known for bragging. Jem's given name is James Matthew, he's a year older than me. Then there are the twins, Anne, called Nan so as not to confuse her with my mother, and Di, short for Diana. See, even I have twins in my family. My mother always assumed that was her lot in life. After the twins is Shirley, the little brown boy - though I assume he's not so little any longer. Last, but never least is Bertha Marilla, called Rilla. I had a pet name for her, Rilla-my-Rilla. The six of us had a fairly idyllic childhood, but who wouldn't with a home like Ingleside, and a father and mother like ours we couldn't help being happy."
"You will love me even more when you learn who my mother is. She is none other than Anne Shirley-Blythe, the authoress of "Kindred Sprits and Bosom Friends," your favorite book as a girl."
"Katie laughed a weak little laugh, and said, "You're not serious."
He gave her his most serious of all looks, "I'm very serious. The book is basically an autobiography of her early life."
"She didn't really break a slate over..."
"My father's head?" he answered for her. "Yes, she did. She was known in Avonlea for her temper, but that quelled quite a bit before we children cam along, at least it did for us."
He recounted all he could of his family's history; of his mother's time as an orphan, or his father's pursuit of his mother and to become a doctor. He had just finished telling her of Rilla's showing up at Ingleside with a war-baby in a soup tureen when he noticed that she had fallen into an uneasy sleep. He found that the doctor was waiting for him outside the room and slowly left her side, noting the grave look upon the doctor's face. He openly wept as he was told the prognosis was anything but good and that it was best to prepare for the worst.
On hearing the doctor's prognosis, Walter fled the hospital. This news was too much for him to bare, and he sought solace anywhere, but couldn't find it. He was lost because he knew he was losing her. Just as she refused to think about the baby they had lost, he refused to believe that she was lost. It was beyond consideration. The world just simply could not exist without Katie in it.
He returned to the hospital to find Katie awake and speaking with a nurse who had her reddish-brown hair neatly pulled back beneath her cap. Katie was smiling and obviously enjoying the company of this nurse. The nurse turned to him, and her eyes seemed very familiar to him. Her snow-white skin seemed almost to glow in the yellow haze of the gas lights. Walter laughed inwardly as he recalled an ongoing joke he and Katie had shared about the hospital that still used gas to light its rooms. How many more laughs would they share together? Suddenly everything seemed final in the knowledge that his days with Katie were numbered.
The nurse left them alone together, and Walter was amazed that Katie's eyes still held a radiance, and she still seemed happy. It was as if Joy had come to visit her. After he kissed her hello though, he face turned serious, and he noticed that she was flushed with fever.
"Walter, I think you should contact your family. I think that you and the children will be needing them soon."
Taken loosely from Anne's House of Dreams.
I know that the previous chapter was anything but good, however I hope that this chapter and the next will be everything you've been expecting and more. Please leave me reviews!