Hi everyone! Gah! I'm really sorry for being such a horrible author, but so much has happened in my life since I first started writing this story. I'm now a Junior in college and all of my time has been devoted to working and going to school.
Why did I pick this story back up? Well, every now and then I would get an e-mail notification that someone had added my story to their Favorites List. And honestly, that's very uplifting for me to think that people are still enjoying this story. I can't completely promise that this story will continue regularly, but I will try my hardest!
ENJOY! :)
Not too far into the Alabama wilderness was a small wooden cabin. The cabin was roughly hewn, yet sturdy in every facet of the word. Inside, on a rickety cot, laid a man and beside him sat his loyal daughter.
Her heart was heavy as she looked into the weak eyes of her dying father. Their color, once bright blue, had degenerated into a dull grey – reminiscent of a dusty mirror. He grasped her hand lightly.
"Eva," He whispered.
The man's voice was rough but raw with emotion.
"Hush Poppa. Stay quiet."
He paused and coughed – hacking crimson into a tattered rag that was stained from previous use.
"Eva, I want you to know how much I love you."
His eyes were desperate as he clawed at the edges of consciousness.
"I never said it much," He continued.
A single tear streaked down his cheek.
"I know Poppa, I know."
And then he was gone.
She was understated and overwhelmed – clothed in the memory of her mother, a black silk dress.
In a solemn voice the pastor continued,
"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
Amen.
Silently the congregation slipped away – mingling amongst the other graves – perhaps remembering forgotten loved ones – perhaps discussing what they would do that Sunday – already forgetting the man who had lost his life.
His absence was insignificant to all but a few – namely his young daughter Eva.
The pastor stood graveside and gathered his meager belongings – a bible, a fistful of paper black with the ink of his sermon, and his dignity. He looked at the girl. Hard for words, he clumsily placed a large hand on her shoulder and in a warm southern drawl said only what he thought would comfort her.
"Eva, darlin', you know your papa loved you very much. He was an upstanding war hero and any young woman, like yourself, should be proud to be his daughter."
Her lips pursed and she nodded – avoiding eye contact.
"Thank you, sir." She mumbled.
He gently patted her on the back and then set off behind his flock.
She didn't even feel the first few drops of rain as they careened downwards – senses dulled from pain.
What did this girl, barely a woman, have left?
She was the sole heiress to the Harris fortune – a crumbling house, a couple hundred dollars, and a dozen or so empty whiskey bottles.
She was tired of her Podunk town. She was tired of being the "Harris girl."
Wearily she walked, like a Queen of the Dead, through the moistened graves and through the rusty cemetery gate. She weaved through the empty streets of her tiny town. The grimy glass of the storefronts hadn't been scrubbed clean yet by the rain, but their bold red "Closed" signs were clear. Like a moth, she gravitated toward the one lit building.
"Join the U.S. Army!" Colorful posters depicting strong men and beautiful women stared down at the soaking wet girl, urging her to come in and give Uncle Sam a hand. She obliged.
The recruiter, an older veteran with glasses, looked surprised when she walked in.
"For God's sake, you're going to catch cold if walk around in the rain like that!" He scolded.
"Sir," She mumbled.
"I'd like to join the Army."
The man paused and studied the girl. She looked athletic and intelligent, an excellent fit for the Army Nurse Corps.
"Sit down Miss. I have an opportunity for you and we have a lot to discuss."
Thanks for reading!