The Child Lives On

Chapter Twenty Two

War is an unpleasant business, to put it mildly. A soldier needs some hope to get him through, a reason to keep fighting. Of course, my parents were reason enough, I'm sure; and yet, it was my little friend's face I would see when I dreamed at night. The men in my unit teased me because I talked in my sleep. "Emily, Emily, oh, Emily," they would say, kissing their pillows. I didn't take it personally. They were just trying to cover up their own fears, and more than ready to hurry home to that someone special of their own.

Returning to Binghamton, I was not the same man who had left four years before. For one thing, I didn't have pimples. For another, I had courage; and having courage, I intended to find and marry the woman I loved. When I told Mom, she was appalled. In the living room, with a hand to her mouth, she was giving me that look. "You can't marry a little girl," she said. "It's scandalous."

"But she's not a little girl," I insisted.

"She walks like a little girl and talks like a little girl…"

"But I've known her for fifteen years."

"Doesn't matter. She's little and she's a girl."

"But she's just the right size."

"Just the right size? What are you talking about? She's barely four feet tall."

"I'm not much taller."

"Have you lost your mind? You're a good foot and a half taller."

"That's not so much."

"You tower over her. Is that what you want?"

"Men do marry little women, you know. A whole book was written about it."

"She's not a woman, Timmy. She's a girl. G-I-R-L, girl. Can't you get that through your…"

"But she's so nice."

"She is nice, I grant you that."

"And I love her."

"That may very well be, but you can't…"

"Yes, I can."

"No, you can't."

"Yes, I can."

"No, you can't."

"Watch me," I said, as I marched out the door.

"Mark my words," she called out, "You will regret it."

Mom's opposition only made me more determined. In my mind, Emily and I were the modern day Romeo and Juliet. As luck would have it, I found her easily. She was sitting next to Margie, her governess, on our own special bench at the park. The memories came flooding back, making me smile. Some of the happiest moments of my childhood were spent just chatting with her on that bench.

Margie stifled a laugh when she saw me approaching with flowers and chocolates. After whispering something to Emily, she got up and left, and found some hidden vantage point to watch, I'm sure.

Wasting no time, I dropped to my knees and proposed. Emily turned me down point blank.

"In all my years," she said, "you are the only man to ever propose to me. I suppose it had to happen sometime. I will not hold it against you, I promise. The war has twisted your thinking. C'est tragique. Tim, get up and sit next to me."

Utterly dejected, I sat beside her.

"I care about you," she said, "and it is because I care about you that I have to say no."

"If you cared about me, you would say yes."

"Not everything you desire is good for you."

"I thought you loved me."

"Nous sommes amis, that is all."

My heart was breaking. "Why?" I cried. "Why won't you marry me? Is it because I'm short? Is it the glasses?"

Ignoring my idiodic questions, she put forth a question of her own. "Tim, what do you seek in a wife?"

"What do I seek?" Thoughtfully rubbing my chin, I gave her question due consideration. What do I seek? "Let's see… I guess... Someone to take care of the home, raise the children…"

'Viola!"

"Huh?"

"You have hit the proverbial nail on the head."

"What nail?"

"Mon ami, think about your words."

"My words? What words?" Frantically, I retraced my steps. "Take care of the home, raise… Oh! Children. You don't want children. Don't you like children?"

"Of course I like children. Ce n'est pas le problème. Mon dieu! Why am I telling you this?! It is the… the… the process. I cannot… you know… consummate..."

"Soup?"

"Huh?"

"Nothin'."

"Tim, has no one told you about the birds and the bees?"

"The birds and the bees?" It finally hit me, like a howitzer. "You mean…?"

"Oui."

"You can't…?"

"Um hmm."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

My hand went to my forehead. I let out a sigh, realizing I had just dodged a bullet. Emily smiled, opened the box of chocolates and held it out to me. "Bon appétit," she said. We ate the whole box.