A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry about Una's brown eyes- They'll be brown. The fact is I prefer brown eyes to blue eyes. Thanks for pointing that out to me, though.
Chapter 2: The Song of the Piper
Jem Blythe was young, tall and handsome. He was a born adventurer. He did not share his brother's passion for beauty and romance; he did not care much for the delicacies and intricacies of the earth and human nature, like Walter did. All he cared about was adventure, risk and experimenting.
He had, of course, matured over the years- since he had been thirteen. Eight years had changed him. The oldest of the merry group of children- no, young adults- we know so well, Jem was the one who had laid down the rules when they were young. He shared their want of fun, yet he knew when and where to draw the line.
Jem had at first been very lonely at Redmond. In his first year, he had been alone- none of his old pals- Walter, Jerry, Nan, Di or Faith had been there. While the others saw a lot of each other either at Queens or at home, Jem was alone, getting slowly used to an entirely new world. But then he had the hope of looking forward to his second year- when Jerry and Walter should be coming with him back to Redmond. But Walter became very ill with typhoid- and the fever had hit him very badly. He hadn't been strong enough to go to Redmond, and only Jerry was with himin his second year.
In that one year, his respect for Jerry rose, and he and Jerry became closer than ever. He became as close to Jerry as he had been to Walter, and found in Jerry a lot more than he had ever seen in Walter. He loved Walter, of course, but he had never been able to connect with Walter's romantic outlook on life. Jem was practical, and so was Jerry. This was the bond that was between them, and though to an outsider looking in there may not have seemed to be much in their relationship, there was no friendship greater than theirs.
And so, slowly, life at Redmond became less tedious for Jem, and he began enjoying his stay there, with his increasing popularity. Jem's good looks made him a big favourite with the girls, and there was a swarm of girls waiting to dance with Jem in the numerous dances that Redmond held for it's students. Jem enjoyed the attention for a while, then grew used to it, and finally, by the end of the second year, he began to detest it. He realized that all the girls that he met had been frivolous and shallow, an did not care so much for the person he was, as for his popularity with the entire staff and student body. Yet, there was one who had inspired in him what he had then thought was more than just a crush- he had mistaken it for love- and this girl- woman- was Suzette King.
Suzette King had visited Jem at his Ingleside home when they were much younger. He had harbored a small crush on her then- but he had never suspected it to be rekindled in his heart after so many years. She was a pretty girl, and had blue eyes with depth and meaning in them. Jem had asked her to many dances at college, and soon, they were instantly paired up together. But Jem realized, on closer association with her, that Suzette King, though a nice person at heart, could only be a good friend to him. It would be difficult for this historian of events to explain the true nature of this realization, and so we shall not dwell into it. All that can be said is this- that Suzette and Jem stopped dancing together at all Redmond dances, and soon put an end to all of Redmond's juicy gossip. They remained very good friends, though, and were often seen talking and walking together in and around the campus.
And then came third year. Jem Blythe was graduating this year, presumably with the highest marks in his batch, and as President of the Student Body and his sorority. He was a very important person in college now, and was constantly surrounded by students and teachers- finalizing one event or the other. It was a wonder then, that Jem Blythe was conspicuously absent from the first dance that year. Instead, he was seen talking pleasantly to a young, beautiful, bright girl form the first year.
Redmond could not stop talking. Who was she? Where did she come from? Was she from the village, or was she a town girl? Why would the student body president prefer to spend time with a first year instead of attending a college dance? And when had Jem first met this mystery girl?
Faith Meredith became popular. She was often called 'the mystery girl,' and did not like this popularity one bit. She confronted Jerry about it, asking him if this was the welcome that every first year got, and his reply did not satisfy her. "You," said Jerry, almost accusingly, "shouldn't have kept dear old Jem away from all his adoring fans- especially on the night of the year's first dance."
Faith was furious- why, she hadn't bargained for this in her new life. But soon things changed; people began to actually respect her- without even knowing her. From 'mystery girl' she became 'oh…you lucky girl!', as she was often addressed by her classmates and her seniors. Life, Faith decided, was curious.
The only reason Jem Blythe was talking to Faith Meredith that night, was because they decided they had a lot of catching up to do, and, since neither of them was dancing- Jem, because he didn't want to, and Faith because she was a minister's daughter- they felt that it was the perfect time to catch up on their half-lost friendship. But the 'catching up' soon changed- and it became a more regular thing. Initially, it was only rarely that the two talked to each other alone, but then, as they grew fonder of each other's company- as opposed to that of their dense classmates'- they did it more often. And so it was, that, gradually, there was more substance in Redmond's gossip. Faith and Jem were more than friends, now, and had grown to admire and respect each other. And though they didn't know it, they were actually falling in love.
Walter Blythe wasn't very keen on the dance in the lighthouse. He knew that the sight of couples sweethearting around him was not going to please his eye. Especially that of Faith and Jem. He had decided, initially, that he wouldn't go. But when his father asked him to go, so that he could keep an eye on his little sister, who was attending her very first dance, and was, as we all know, absolutely excited about it, he couldn't say no. He was protective about Rilla, and would go only to take care of the poor little thing. As a brother, Walter Blythe was one to be dreaded.
Also, he thought, since he did feel like off-loading his feelings to someone, he could talk to Di on the way there. And, so after the talk of war, he left to get ready. And when he came down, he was looking his handsome best, all ready to get the night over with. He cornered Di from the beginning, so that Nan wouldn't take her away from him. Of course, that was a far fetch, considering that Jerry was going to join them, he decided he had nothing to fear. Making sure that Rilla was fine- she was walking with Gertrude Oliver- he made his way down the winding road with Di.
"So," she started, " what's going on with you? You seem a bit distant, lately."
Walter did not answer immediately. He looked down at the ground, and then he said, rather vaguely, "You know…things…life…"
Di did not like his reply. "What is wrong, Walter," she asked looking him directly in the eye, "You've changed so much this summer. What is it?"
But before Walter could answer her , they were at the manse, and had to first greet the Merediths. Walter looked brokenly at Faith, who was looking radiant in blue silk, as she took Jem's outstretched arm. They walked on together, and Walter looked back at Di, to make sure she hadn't seen a thing. His wishes came true. Di was busy talking to Carl, and had not seen the look on Walter's face. Walter knew, that if indeed she had seen him, his secret would be known to her. Di knew Walter like the palm of her hand, and the same was true of Walter. They could read into each others' looks. And Di knew that something was going wrong with Walter's life.
And so, when all greetings were over, she questioned him again. "Tell me," she said, "what's happening with you- what's happening to you."
"I can't tell you the whole truth," Walter said slowly, "but I will tell you this- that I feel broken."
"Why?" she couldn't be satisfied with that answer.
"because…," Walter stammered, not wanting to tell her, but one look at her face, and he knew he must tell her, "because I'm in love."
Di could only stare. Then she regained her composure, and said, slowly, "Well then, what's the problem?"
"The problem? The problem is that my love is unrequited. She doesn't love me, Di, and I know that she never will. She belongs to someone else, and will never be mine."
"How can you be so sure," Di, the romantic spoke now, "Maybe it is you that she after all loves, but doesn't know it yet- don't look so hopeless, Walter dearest!"
"You don't seem to understand, Di," Walter said, "she can never love me- never- I know it with all my heart. And- and the man she does love is deserving of her love. I couldn't ruin everything for them- they're madly in love with each other, and it shouldn't be otherwise."
Di was silent for a while. They were in the boat now, and the Four Winds lighthouse was in full view. They looked into the water silently. And then, as they got off the boat, Di asked the question she had been meaning to ask from the very beginning.
"Who is she?" she asked, looking at him. But she got no answer.
"Do I know her," she asked again, "Walter! Who is she? Is she from around here? Or is she from near the school that you teach at? Walter!"
Walter was silent, and intended to be silent all through this line of questioning. Nothing, not even his eyes, would give him away. His eyes were expressionless, and Di had to give up exasperatedly.
They took their tables at the side of the dance floor. They were both quiet, and just as Di was about ask him again, when she was asked to dance by a boy from the Glen. She couldn't refuse. He seemed young, and eager to ask her, and she did feel like dancing on this beautiful enchanted night. She shot Walter a look that said, "You wait till I catch you later!", and was off.
Walter sat alone, admiring the dancers, looking out for Rilla, and occasionally walking out to look at the moon and feel the breeze. He danced once or twice- first with a young girl form the Harbor, and then with Kate Drew- just for the fun of it, and not so much because he liked any of them or their company. And then, as he took his seat after the second dance, Jack Elliott brought the news. England had declared war on Germany. Walter Blythe turned very pale right at that moment. He knew that this was the worst
news he had ever received in his life- in nay of their lives. He went out of the room immediately, and saw Jem hurrying up the steps to the Lighthouse.
"Have you heard the news, Jem?"
"Yes," said a happy Jem, "I'm here to ask Captain Josiah to hoist the flag. Hurrah! The piper has piped at last, Walter!"
But Jem did not wait longer- he was off, and left Walter paler than ever. There was a flurry of excitement at the lighthouse, but they soon got back to their dancing, and all was normal again. At least, to all, but to Walter and a few others. In all the confusion, he couldn't find Rilla anywhere, but decided she could be alright. He needed to be alone then.
Walter left the fury of the lighthouse to find solace in nature. He stood by the rocks, feeling the cold breeze blow through his entire form. His heart, like Jem's, was racing- but for an entirely different reason- he, and he alone understood the enormity of the situation that was before them. The pain and suffering, the heartbreak and agony that was to follow in the next few years, only Walter knew perfectly. And he did not like what he knew.
He looked across at the dreaded seas, and its roaring waves, and felt that life couldn't be worse. He heard the boats leaving, and was about to go, when he saw an abandoned figure sitting alone in the darkness- on the rocks. A forgotten figure, and soon he thought he recognized it.
"Faith?" he asked into the darkness. She turned around and looked at him; he had startled her- she thought she was alone. "Come," he said to her, giving her his hand, "the boats are leaving."
They made a slow, silent way back to the boat.
Faith found Jem in his merriest mood. She tried hard to listen to his animated conversation about wars- but she had become numb and lifeless. Her every move showed what a changed person she had become. Only that morning she was telling herself that the day would be wonderful, heavenly- and that too in italics. And now- here she was, holding on tight to Jem, hoping that all this was a nightmare.
And now, she knew, there was another challenge before her. She knew Jem would enlist. And she had to be brave for him. How could she? When she felt like everything was falling apart? But she must. Get a grip, Faith, she told herself. Jem led her to a corner in Rainbow Valley. He, too, knew that this was going to be a difficult time. They would have to make promises, and be brave. But he was certainly in higher spirits than she was.
"You must go?" she asked, looking faithfully into his eyes. But he did not have to say- his look was answer enough.
"Then," she said quietly, "you must. Only promise me this- that you will come back alive to me?"
He only kissed her, and then held her half-limp form in his arms, and they stayed liked that for a while.
And then, quite suddenly, he spoke. "Faith, I love you. Marry me- when- if I return." She only gave him a faint smile, and then both of them disappeared into the darkness.
Faith found Walter in rainbow valley, looking up at the moon. She desperately needed to talk to him- so much had happened, and so fast, that she hadn't had the time to take it all in, and come to terms with the fact that there was a war, and that her boy-brother Jerry and her love, Jem were going. She thought it all unfair, that young Canadians had to fight in England's wars. And it had pained her that something as cruel and wicked as war should come and shatter their happy days.
"Oh! Walter," she said, as she sat next to him, with tears in her eyes, "Why? Why must all this happen to us? Why must Jerry and Jem and all our young men go off to battle, when they have their whole lives before them, with all its wonderful opportunities? I can't take this anymore, Walter- I didn't cry before Jem, because I knew he'd think me a coward, but I have to cry,- you, more than anyone else can understand, Walter," she leaned in on his shoulder, "Our little world is falling apart!"
Walter put his arm around her, and she clung on to him as she wept; they sat there like that for a while, and then he asked her, "Did you reason with him? Jem, I mean?"
"I didn't, I knew it wasn't wise- Jem becomes very passionate about war, and I didn't want him to think that I was afraid, or that I was discouraging him from doing something that he strongly believed was his duty. You know how Jem is…he wouldn't have listened," sobbed Faith, "He's always wanted to go to war, it's been his dream since…well…since forever. I myself would have gone, if I were a man- it isn't war I fear- it's the fear of losing Jem. He told me he loved me. I needed to pour out my heart- but Jem wouldn't have listened. I came away to someone who would."
She looked pleadingly at him, and wept and wept and wept.
"You're not being a coward- it is natural," he said to her, wiping the tears from her face, "A person who cries is not a coward- it is the inability to recognize one's fears that is cowardly. Don't cry, Faith, Jem will come home safe, I know it."
She didn't say anything, but tried to take hope from Walter- he had known all along of this- he knew it when they were children, he had said the piper would pipe, and on that happy summer morning, he had spoken of an impending doom. Walter had known.
"Do you love him?" he asked of her, slowly.
She looked at him, and then at the moon, and whispered, "I didn't know before, but now I know- I do. With all my heart, I love him, Walter, and I cannot bear to lose him!"
They sat there for a while, and then went back home, arm in arm, quietly crying.