Chapter Two

Jasper

As I traveled back to Texas I met a nomad, Amy, who was headed in the same direction. I gave her only my given name Jazz, my mother had called me that sometimes affectionately. We traveled together for a few days and both being lonely we had sex, it was a relief from the frustration boiling in my body but it only served to make the loneliness ache so much harder to tolerate and as I sank into depression she left without even a goodbye and I never saw her again. Reaching the farm I watched as the family there went about their daily chores, a man, his wife, and their little daughter. Listening for any clues as to who they were I discovered it was my brother Samuel's son and his family, the little girl my great-niece. she was very beautiful, like my mother, with honey curls and a perpetual smile.

I watched them for days wishing I could introduce myself, become a part of the family again but it was impossible, how could I explain my appearance. When they went into town one day I got in through an open window and went upstairs to my old room. It belonged to the little girl now and there was nothing I recognized. Up in the attic though was a different matter. There were boxes covered in dust, one which had my name scrawled on it in chalk. I traced the outline of the letters recognizing my mothers writing, she must have put my things away when I went missing. I opened the box not knowing what to expect. Inside were memories of a childhood long gone, a few wooden animals that my father had carved so I could play farms in the dirt of the yard, my knife which I'd forgotten to take with me, an old and very moth-eaten bear that my mother had sewn for me while she was pregnant and at the bottom a simple wooden frame containing the photograph I had sent her of me in uniform. I took it out of the frame and turned it over. Written on the back was a short message,

"I hope I can help to keep you all safe, your loving son Jasper. xx"

If I closed my eyes I could see myself writing those few words and wondering if the photograph would make it home. Everything was delayed since the war started and post often disappeared or was burned by the enemy but it had made it through to her. I put the things back and shut the box sitting back on my heels as waves of anguish rocked my body and soul, if I still had one. They were all gone, every one of my family, the family I had known no longer existed. The closest I had now were the family that now owned my old home. Looking up I saw it was getting towards noon and they would soon be back so I crept back downstairs and out, hiding so I was close enough to hear them.

The little girl Hannah was full of the things she'd seen in town, especially a new doll they had in the store with honey curls like hers. When they went through to eat I retraced my steps back to the river wondering if I had been like that once. Wide eyed and innocent, if so it had long since died. A little while later I heard footsteps and saw Hannah approaching so I melted back into the trees to watch her. She collected reeds from the creek bank and sat on the grass in the shade trying to plait them together. I watched for a while as she struggled then something made me step out into the open and crouch down a little way from her,

"What are you trying to do?"

She looked up but she wasn't scared she just smiled,

"Grandpa showed me how he and his brothers used to make baskets for their mummy so she could carry the eggs but I forgot and now he's gone so I'm trying to remember."

I saw it as clear as day, us boys making the baskets for our mother and he'd passed it down, or tried to anyway.

"Can I show you?"

"You know how?"

She sounded excited,

"Yes, if I can remember"

She handed me some rushes and my fingers remembered, the basket was made in minutes while she watched.

"Now you try."

I watched her helping out when she got stuck and when she heard her father calling her she jumped up.

"I have to go now. Thank you"

"You're very welcome."

I watched as she picked up the baskets and ran back through the trees to the house, then followed her smiling at her enthusiasm. She ran into the house,

"Mummy, mummy, look what I did"

Her mother stooped down to look at the baskets Hannah held out.

"You remembered Hannah, well done"

"Can we go collect the eggs like Grandpa did?"

"We already did it today, it will have to wait until morning"

Hannah frowned then smiled,

"Can I show daddy then?"

"Show me what?"

Her father had come in behind her unheard,

"Look daddy I made baskets like Grandpa"

"So you did, you remembered what Grandpa showed you"

"Not really but the man at the creek showed me how"

"What man? Didn't I tell you not to talk to strangers young lady?"

"He's not a stranger daddy, I've seen him before"

"Where? Here?"

"At grandpa's"

"At grandpa's? When?"

"He was on the dresser"

"Hannah I don't understand what you're talking about. Is this an imaginary friend?"

"No daddy I'll show you"

She ran upstairs and into the attic and I heard the boxes being moved. When she ran back down I knew what she would have in her hand. Sure enough it was the photograph.

"See daddy, that's the man"

he took the photo from her and looked at it with a sad smile.

"That was grandpa's older brother Jasper. He died in the war honey"

She shook her head,

"No, I saw him, the man by the creek and he showed me how to make the baskets."

So my brother had kept my photo on the dresser, he hadn't forgotten me.

"Show me honey"

Father and daughter went out together but they were soon back.

"No one there."

His wife nodded looking at the photograph again.

"He never did get over Jasper's death did he?"

"Who? My dad? Well, the whole family was devastated when they got the news. My grandfather spent the rest of his life trying to locate his body. They had a memorial for Jasper but it was hollow without a body. My grandmother carried his photograph in her apron pocket the rest of her life. She'd lost two sons then."

"But there was never any trace?"

"No, no body, no news on how or where he died, he just vanished from the face of the earth, buried somewhere quickly with no marker. He was a brave man."

My nephew wiped the dust from the frame and put it on the mantelpiece.

"Why would Hannah say she saw him?"

"I don't know, I like to think maybe he came back and made contact, let us know he was OK, whatever happened to him. Shame it didn't happen a few years ago before dad died though. He always said Jasper was around somewhere just not in our world any longer."

I couldn't stay here, it was just too painful and I might bring danger to them but I had one thing to do before I left. The next morning very early I pushed an envelope under the door of the town store, it contained the money for the doll and a note for Hannah. I went back just to make sure she got it and sure enough the store delivery boy turned up about an hour later with a parcel.

"Did you order anything from the store?"

"No, not since the new pans you wanted"

"Is there a note?"

"Yes its addressed to Hannah"

The little girl ran downstairs then, her golden curls bouncing as she moved and they handed her the parcel. She pulled the paper off excitedly to find the doll with a shriek of joy.

"Daddy look the doll. Did you buy it for me?"

"No honey, what does the note say?"

She unfolded the paper and studied it.

"It's from the man, the one who helped me make the baskets."

Her father took the note from her and read it out loud.

Dear Hannah,

I thought you might like this, now you can make her a rush basket to sleep in. Be good and remember your grandpa, he was good to me.

"Is it signed?"

"No."

They would never know who sent her the doll but I felt a warmth towards the little girl, the innocent child I could never know, never see again. I turned away from the house running, trying to get away from the crushing desolation in my soul.