Chapter 22: I promised
There is no turning back - Hugo Chavez
1945.
A cold and bitter Sunday morning caused Joelle Cole to wake up earlier than usually. She pushed her blanket to the side and got out of the bed, checking the time.
"Seven in the morning," she sighed and opened the window widely for some fresh air, inhaling the scent of the cold snow below. Had it not been for something that grasped her attention, she would have remained standing there for a little longer. A loud crack in the back of the room caused Joelle to whirl around in panic - too often she had heard the loud sirens that warned the citizens of London about any bombing attacks in the past. Dark times lay behind Joelle and war has made the young woman a very cautious person. She withdrew her hand from her chest, realizing it was merely a broomstick falling to the ground. Joelle stared at it for a few more seconds, then decided to pick it up and start her work.
The orphanage was a messy place since her absence.
"Joelle..." Said a raspy voice. Joelle nodded and smiled as she entered a room, letting the light in.
"Don't worry, Ellie. Don't worry," she said. Mrs. Cole looked up weakly - the war left far more traces on her than on her niece. A fair amount of her right face was burnt and covered in scars - witnesses of The Blitz bombing attack as of September 8th in 1940; at least that's how they referred to it in the articles and news. But that was Mrs. Cole's least problem.
"Do you think you can keep it in?" Asked Joelle as she sat down on a stool next to her aunt's bed, a bowl of hot soup in her hand. Mrs. Cole glanced at the bowl, then sighed.
"We can try," she croaked and tried to sit. The shocking diagnose came last year - Pancreatic cancer. Joelle carefully prepped the pillow for her aunt to assist her sitting up and held out the spoon to Mrs. Cole's mouth, unaware that this would be the last day she would have spent with the ill woman, who died just hours after she had fallen asleep.
"No, Amy. I don't want you to see him!" Hissed Martha Stafford.
"Kiss my ass, Martha. I can do whatever I please!" Amy hissed back, lighting up a cigarette, putting another behind her ear, then walked off to get out of the door but stopped abruptly when Joelle appeared next to it. The both of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Amy merely shoved past Joelle; not a single word was spoken.
"Did you bring the bread?!" Asked Martha harshly, ripping the paper bag out of Joelle's hands. Martha Stafford has become the new matron of Wool's orphanage right after Elizabeth Cole passed away - much to Joelle's dislike, but she put up with it. Not for the sake of Martha, but for the sake of the children in the orphanage.
"I don't know where to go with Amy! I would kick her out - but ah, I can already hear the local article barking about it. Go, go, fix the food already, we don't have all day!"
Joelle had her arms crossed and stared at Martha with an unimpressed face.
"I am doing this for free, Martha. The least you can do is watch your tone. You can't afford to pay someone if I'm gone. Or can you?" and with that, Joelle walked off into the kitchen, ignoring Martha's grumbling.
"Is she gone again?" Asked a voice. Joelle glanced back to see Dennis Bishop sitting in the dark corner of the kitchen. Joelle cleared her throat, then nodded.
"Yes."
"She's seeing that old git again," groaned Dennis, lowering his head. Joelle walked over to him, kneeling down to Dennis's level.
"Amy is of age. There's nothing we can do about it, sweetheart."
"He's forty..." Said Dennis. Joelle nodded with a sigh, glancing to the direction of the door, then back at Dennis. He had dark shadows under his eyes and bloody scars on his wrists. It pained Joelle to see Amy and Dennis like this, still remembering the poor but happy children they once were. Now they were less than poor.
"Hello," said a clear and kind voice from behind. Joelle smiled as she turned around to see Billy Stubbs walking in, hanging his coat away. Billy has grown up to be a friendly and kind young man, his blond hair, however, turned a mid brown as he grew up. He had dark brown eyes and carried a bright smile that lit up Joelle's mood.
"Hey honey," she said. "Going somewhere?"
"Yeah, in a bit, Eric asked me to bring his books, he forgot them," said Billy. Joelle felt a light shot of pain in her chest. Eric Whalley moved out of the orphanage four day ago. It was a painful loss to watch them growing up and then leave. At least Eric and Billy were still best friends - enough of a reason for Eric to show up occasionally. Of course it was only a matter of time until Billy would move out as well.
"Dennis. Come on, get up from the cold floor," said Joelle then. Dennis looked up to her, then away again.
"I'm not a child anymore. You don't need to tell me what to do," he murmured. Joelle stared at Dennis, looking at his messy black hair that was glued to his forehead; he hadn't washed it in days. His saggy clothes were stained, shoes ripped, and Dennis's once bright eyes could not be duller these days.
"I don't mean to tell you what to do. I'm asking you to get up from the cold floor, please," Joelle smiled. Dennis had his chin rested on his knee, his face turned away from her.
"Joelle! When will the food be ready?!" It shouted from upstairs. Joelle sighed, glanced at Dennis, was about to say something but she did not. She got up and walked over to the stove, blankly preparing lunch.
"It tasted better when you were younger," commented Martha when she ate the soup after the children were done and out of the dining room. Joelle stared towards the bowl, then looked out of the window, watching the snow falling down from the dark sky.
"I will go home now," she said colorlessly and got up.
"Come here a little earlier tomorrow," said Martha after a moment of silence. Joelle stopped walking, glanced over her shoulder, then grabbed her bag and coat, leaving without another word.
After a short ride on the bus Joelle arrived at her apartment. She took off her boots and her coat and walked into the small living room that beheld a bed, a tiny table and a chair. She sighed after washing her hands in the little bathroom, walked over to the kitchen niche and picked up a cup, preparing a tea while sitting down to eat the sandwich that she wanted to eat all day. She fell asleep to The Basic Principles of Psychoanalysis.
Joelle woke up around five in the morning, rubbing her eyes. She glanced at her full cup of cold tea, then to the half eaten sandwich. She stretched and rubbed her eyes, vanishing into the small bathroom to wash up. At six she already fixed breakfast for the orphans.
It was a surprising quirk of life to turn down all cards of misery at once for each protagonist; as if there was no time to waste. Joelle Cole got home late this day, it must have been early in the morning already when she did. She had no time to finish other chores, but she was lucky to realize that it was Saturday when she woke up. Stretching and yawning heartily, she sat up, glancing to the ceiling. A knock on the door caused her to flinch. She frowned, not knowing who it could be this time of the day. Joelle walked to the door, trying to see who it was, but couldn't. She carefully opened the door.
"Joelle!" Cheered a young man. Joelle sighed in relief, smiling. "Hello Bryan, erm.
Did I miss something?"
"We wanted to have a brunch together, don't you remember?" Bryan asked and walked in. Joelle shook her head. "I'm quite forgetful these days. I'm sorry. Go sit down already, I'll be there in a minute."
"So," started Bryan after Joelle returned fully dressed in normal daywear. "How's life treating you?"
"Fine, fine," said Joelle, biting into a fresh roll that Bryan brought. "Wool's is just taking up most of my time. How about you?"
"Well; we've had a dozen of thievery files charged the past few days. People start to realize that some live better even after war," sighed Bryan, putting jam on top of his bread. "Other than that, nothing fancy. I've seen Amy the other day," he looked up to Joelle, "Opium I think. It's such a shame. I let her run, though..."
Joelle stared blankly ahead, nodding for a moment, then ran a hand through his hair. "I wonder if I could have helped it. I wonder if-"
"You have done everything you could to prevent these things from happening."
"Dennis, too...I don't know what to do, Bryan, I just don't know how to help. The last time I tried to help somebody-"
"Let's not talk about it," said Bryan, rubbing Joelle's hand. Joelle nodded, sucking in her bottom lip, then forced a smile. "You're right."
Bryan left about an hour later. Joelle felt oddly empty after he had gone, there were things left unsaid between them that neither she nor Bryan had the courage to address. When Joelle arrived at the orphanage, she was greeted by a few 'new', children. They were not exactly new, just younger than those Joelle had met those years back.
"Has Amy returned?" Asked Joelle when she handed over plates of soup for everyone. Martha and Dennis both shook their heads but none of them said a single word. The atmosphere was quite thick and tense; only now Joelle noticed how much better it was when her aunt was still alive.
"I will be here late tomorrow," said Joelle. "I won't be able to return until the evening. I have a lot of readings to do and essays to write," she said. Martha frowned.
"I asked you to be here Sunday, too. We need you here in case you haven't noticed."
"I can't," said Joelle. "You'll have to cook yourself for once instead of sitting in your office and pretend you have so much work to do," said Joelle sharply.
"How dare you speak to me like so, girl!" Martha hissed. "Your aunt might have allowed your little breakouts of attitude, but I will not!"
"Lucky I'm not yours to command, right?" Smiled Joelle and put on her coat. "Have a nice day." And off she walked with her back straight up, not ducking when Martha threw a cup of tea Joelle's way. The young woman sighed, shaking her head, just glad that her dear aunt would not see any of what Wool's Orphanage has become.
Reading her assignments was one of the rare times Joelle truly enjoyed existing. She wrote down a lot of notes and commented and criticized many statements while appreciating every bit of new information that shaped her horizon. A smile was spread across her face but as soon as her gaze fell out of the window again and she watched the snow, her smile vanished. Her eyes became heavier and cloudier with each snowflake that danced down in the dark sky, falling to the thick layers of snow in the empty yard.
Joelle shook her head and turned her face away, trying to ignore the memories in her head that, almost painfully, begged her to remember. She got up from her small table to fix herself another cup of tea, sniffing on the herbal steam when it rose up to her nose. Fully calm again she smiled and walked back into the living room - but dropped the cup of tea with a loud gasp and widened eyes. A screech erupted form her lips when her eyes instantly fell out of the window again - where right in front of it a tall snowman was built, staring at her with its eyes of rocks. Joelle quickly closed the curtains.
"Hey everybody," cheered Joelle as she returned to Wool's Orphanage Sunday evening. She closed the door behind her. "So cold!" She smiled, trying to be in a good mood for everyone. She frowned when nobody greeted her back and had the slight idea that Martha might have taken the kids out, but shook her head. It was late, where should they have gone?
When Joelle walked ahead into the dining room, her world started to spin. Ahead of her lay two people - Martha and Dennis, in thick layers of blood. Joelle screamed from the top of her lungs, walked backwards, her eyes wandered over to the staircase and Joelle screamed once more; it was almost crowded with the dead bodies of the remaining inhabitants of Wool's Orphanage; Amy amongst them. Joelle broke out in tears, she shook her head in attempts to make herself believe that this was not real, that it was just another nightmare, but it did not work. They were dead. Somebody killed them. They were dead. Joelle tried to walk back towards the door but merely found herself dizzily swaying to the left, holding onto the wooden panels of the walls. Her heartbeat was the only sound she could hear for a long time, she inhaled deeply and once more tried to make her way to the door, but a voice behind her froze her to stand still.
"Hello Joelle."
Ear deafening silence invaded the room; even so much that the drops of blood from the ceiling were audible. Joelle's lips parted, she slowly spun around.
There in the distance stood a tall, young and handsome man, maybe eighteen years old. Joelle shook her head in disbelief, her hand reached to her mouth in shock.
She knew at once who he was.
