Enlistment Form
Brooklyn, New York
"O'Connell, Micheal," the enlistment officer calls. "Kaminsky, Henry." Everyone in the room is male, all with their shirts off for physical evaluation.
"Boy, a lot of guys getting killed over there," Steve says as he reads the eulogy section of the newspaper. He stands out among all of the men, for he's smaller, shorter, skinnier, just not what you would expect for a man his age.
"Rogers, Steven," the enlistment officer calls. Steve puts down his newspaper after folding it.
"It kind of makes you think twice about enlisting, huh?" The man next to Steve says. He's much more muscular than Steve is. You could probably touch fingertip to fingertip if you wrap your hand around Steve's bicep.
"Nope," Steve says right away, walking towards the desk the man called his name from.
"Rogers," the enlistment officer says. He opens Steve's file and takes a look at Steve with a little confusion in his face, as to why a man like Steve would try to enlist in the army. "What did your father die of?"
"Mustard gas," Steve says. That's kind of a lie, but that's what he's been telling people since he was 11. "He was in the 107th Infantry." That part isn't a lie, he was in the 107th. "I was hoping I could be assigned…"
"You mother?" The officer says, cutting Steve off.
"She was a nurse in a TB ward. Got hit. Couldn't shake it," Steve answers. The officer looks over Steve's health issues, which include Asthma, Scarlet Fever, high blood pressure, heart trouble, the list goes on.
"Sorry, son," the officer says, implying that he's not going to accept him into the army.
"Look, just give me a chance," Steve begs. This isn't the first time he's been denied into the army. He wants this so bad, no one will give him a chance, not one.
"You'd be ineligible on your asthma alone."
"Is there anything you can do?" Steve asks.
"I'm doing it," the man raises an eyebrow. "I'm saving your life." The man stamps ink onto the enlistment form. It reads '4F,' meaning he's denied enlistment. Steve looks down solemnly, wishing someone will just take a chance on him.
….
"War Continues to ravage Europe," a narrator says in the movie Steve is watching. "But help is on the way." The screen shows men lined up to fight for their country. It shows men being checked up on by a doctor. "Every able-bodied young man is lining up to serve his country. Even little Timmy is doing his part, collecting scrap metal." The screen shows a little boy throwing some metal into a pile. "Nice work, Timmy!" The narrator says in an over enthusiastic tone.
"Who cares?" A man in the audience exclaims. A woman who just lost her husband looks at the man with tears in her eyes. "Play the movie already!"
"Hey, you wanna show some respect?" Steve says quietly to the man, hoping he will shut up and let people mourn for their loved ones.
"Meanwhile overseas our brave boys are showing the Axis powers that the price of freedom is never too high," the narrator continues. The screen now shows gurney's being pulled away, bodies on them covered in a sheet.
"Let's go! Get on with it!" The same man yells. "Hey, just start the cartoon!" Everyone in the audience looks at the man with shock or disgust on their face.
"Hey, you wanna shut up?" Steve exclaims, having enough of this guy. The narrator continues but Steve doesn't pay attention to him. The man stands up and turns to face Steve, with an angry expression on his face. It's ironic that the narrator says "will face any threat no matter the size," at that point.
….
All that can be heard in the alley is skin on skin, not in a good way either. The man has just punched Steve, and since Steve has no muscle, he can't hold himself up and he falls down, hitting a few metal trash cans. He scrambles to his feet, only to be punched again. He grabs the lid of the trash can and holds it up like a shield. The man grabs the edges of the shield and yanks it out of Steve's hands. He uses the momentum and punches Steve one more time. Steve stands up, panting, and holding his fists up like a boxer would.
"You just don't know when to give up, do you?" The man asks.
"I can do this all day," Steve breathes out, he has a cut where his cheekbone is and a busted lip, but he'll still fight any day. Steve goes to punch the man, but he blocks it and punches Steve again, making Steve twist around and fall on his stomach, hitting the trash can once again.
"Hey!" A woman says, walking into the alley. She grabs the man by the elbow and yanks him towards the alley entrance. "Pick on someone your own size." She's wearing a military outfit with a cap on. She has a paper in her hand as well. The man goes to punch her but she backs up and the man misses. She punches the man in the cheek, making him yell in pain and twist away. She kicks him in the behind, making him stumble out of the alleyway. The woman, Ava, or Avery, turns back around to see Steve getting up from being on the ground. "Sometimes I think you like getting punched," she says. Steve has been in about 100 fights in his life, none of them ending well.
"I had him on the ropes," Steve says leaning against a wall. Ava bends down to pick up Steve's enlistment form from earlier.
"How many times is this?" She asks, unfolding the paper. She examines it quickly, noticing it doesn't say he's from Brooklyn. "Oh, you're from Paramus now? You know it's illegal to lie on your enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?" Steve then looks up from rubbing the aches out of his face, to see Ava in her uniform.
"You get your orders?" He asks, solemnly. He doesn't want his sister to go, she could get killed or worse. He believes that being captured and tortured is worse than being killed. He's supposed to protect her from harm, he's the older one, granted only by a couple of minutes.
Ava takes a moment, before responding, "the 107th," she says, proud that she got into her dad's Infantry. "Commander Avery Rogers, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow."
Steve shakes his head with a scoff. "I should be going," he says in disbelief. He claps his hands together to wipe the dust off of them. Ava looks sad for a moment before smiling that bright smile of hers.
"Come on, Stevie," she laughs, wrapping an arm around her brother's shoulders. They slowly walk out of the alleyway. "My last night! I got to get you cleaned up, then we gotta go get James." When she says James' name a bright smile shows up on her face. She can't believe that she met her soulmate when she was only 18. She let's go of Steve and throws his enlistment form to the ground.
"Why? Where are we going?" Steve asks as they walk side by side.
"The future," she says, handing him the newspaper in her hand, that tells him where they're heading. Steve looks at the first article on it. 'World Exposition of Tomorrow."