We interrupt this program to give you Winnie's perspective.
Chapter Five: Heart Breaker
Christmas 1927
A sudden wave of nausea woke Winnie Barnes early on Christmas Day. Waddling as quickly as her round belly would allow, Winnie reached the bathroom in time to throw up into the toilet.
Through the retching from her constant morning sickness, Winnie heard the children waking. The pattering of small feet on the wooden stairs matched the cheers of children finding presents under the Christmas tree in the living room.
Bracing herself against the wall behind the toilet, Winnie pushed herself to her feet. She splashed cool water onto her face and smoothed her hair before hurrying downstairs. The kids always ripped into the presents like vultures attacking their prey. Winnie wished she had some of their energy - nothing could stop those youngins.
"Wait until later to open those," Winnie ordered, her hand pressed to the small of her back to counterbalance the increased weight in front.
"Aw, please, ma!" Ten-year-old Bucky complained while he pressed a box wrapped in old newspapers to his ear. "It'll take forever to wait!"
"You waited all month, what is a few hours more?" Winnie replied, gently steering Bucky toward the kitchen. She pried three-year-old Suzie's fingers from a shiny ornament that somehow sat on the ground. She hung the ornament back onto a higher tree branch and moved on to her third child. Four-year-old Travis reluctantly shuffled away from the tree when Winnie gave him a firm tap on the shoulder, his socks gathering static in the worn-out carpet.
Sitting at the dinner table, Bucky swung his legs back and forth in his chair. His lips protruded in a pout, his arms crossed over his chest signaling his impatience.
"Steve said that Sarah lets him open his gifts right away. Why can't we?" Bucky pouted. He yelped a bit when a spark traveled from Travis's finger to Bucky's arm. Bucky almost toppled out of his chair while swatting at his younger brother. Travis giggled and climbed into his chair across from Bucky and out of arm's reach.
"We always wait until after church to open the gifts. You're old enough now to understand," Winnie said, ignoring the boys' little spat. Turning toward the cupboards, she started to make breakfast. Usually, she made a special Christmas breakfast, but she lacked the energy and desire to do so this year. Being seven months pregnant while grieving George's death left her physically and emotionally exhausted.
Oatmeal and toast would have to do for now.
"Why?" Travis questioned, circling back to the issue of waiting for presents. He picked at the crust of his toast before Winnie cut it off. Satisfied, Travis munched on his crustless toast while Winnie offered the crust to Bucky who happily wolfed it down.
"Because your father started that tradition and I am going to stick with it," Winnie responded, pushing Suzie's glass that balanced precariously on the edge of the table closer in.
That kept the kids quiet for the rest of breakfast.
George's death shadowed Barnes's family like a cloud of despair. Suzie and Travis were too young yet to understand what happened. Since Bucky had the most memories of George - aside from Winnie - George's death hurt more for him. Winnie could see it in the way Bucky avoided playing baseball - one of George's favorite pastimes - and how Bucky's grades dropped from A's to B's. She would have to reprimand him on that eventually, but she could hardly bring herself to leave the house.
The telegraph sent by two military officials at the end of August came of out nowhere. Even though the Great War ended years ago, the army still requested George's help with training exercises and handling new equipment.
The army's new equipment failed.
They said it was a swift death - as swift as hitting the ground from five hundred feet allowed.
Four months after George's death and closed-casket funeral, the whole ordeal still hung heavy on Winnie's heart. She felt weighted down, exhausted, and afraid for the future. Split between finding a job and taking care of three rambunctious children - with a fourth on the way - Winnie struggled to keep herself from falling apart. Sarah offered to help as much as she could, but the hospital demanded long hours and Steve seemed to always fall ill.
Breakfast passed in hushed tones, with a minor argument about who would eat the last piece of toast. The kids forced Winnie to cut the toast into three parts to please the hungry vultures.
Clearing the table and wanting some time to herself, Winnie ushered the kids upstairs to change out of their pajamas while Winnie cleaned the dishes. She would help them later, right now she could hardly keep herself from throwing up again.
Fighting the wave of nausea, Winnie organized the dishes into their respective cupboards. Deciding halfway through that the dishes would only become disorganized again, Winnie left the bowls to air-dry near the sink. Taking a deep breath, she hauled herself upstairs to help the kids change.
Preparing the children for the Christmas church service proved to be a difficult task. This was their first Christmas without George. The eeriness of the silent house reverberated among the walls. Without George practicing the choir songs for church, the house felt desolate. He always sang in the choir - sometimes taking one of the kids up there with him during church. The kids loved it and always fought over it.
Now, George's chair at the table sat empty - devoid of his newspaper and coffee. His eye smile and toothy grin used to light up the room. Now even the brightest lamps could not fill the darkness.
Every Sunday, George would mess up his hair into crazy hairstyles to amuse the kids. Winnie would scold him about proper church attire, prompting George to smooth his hair back down with a wide grin.
Whenever he came home from work, he would pick up the kids and swing them around. Despite Winnie's worrying, he never dropped them. He loved the kids - Winnie could see it in his eyes when he would squat down at the door. A stampede of little feet would tackle him while filling the house with cheerful shouts of "Pa!"
George always kissed Winnie whenever he left for work, returned home, and before bed. Their passion for each other never faded. Winnie would still wake up in the middle of the night, longing for his warmth on his side of the bed.
The bed felt too big for her now. She wanted to cuddle up to him and have him run his fingers through her hair while planting kisses on her neck. She wanted to grab hold of his nightshirt and pull him close, letting go only to wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his chest. She wanted to listen to his heartbeat and soak in his aroma.
She wanted him to walk through the front door and pick her up and spin her around - laughing like it was their wedding day.
Alas, he lay buried six feet under near an oak tree in their church's cemetery. The coroner refused to let her see George before the funeral, saying that the mangled body was too gruesome for a woman's eyes.
A tragic accident cut short eleven years of marriage.
Now, the only part of him she could hold onto was the memories of their time together. His memory lived on through her and the kids. George and Winnie's love for each created the three children upstairs and the one growing in her womb. Although the children were a handful sometimes, they each possessed a unique combination of Winnie and George that symbolized everything their wedding vows ever stood for.
"Until death do we part," Winnie thought as she finally reached the second floor.
Trusting Bucky to pick his clothes, Winnie went to wrestle Travis into his suit pants and shirt. Travis whined the whole time, complaining that he couldn't breathe because of the tight shirt collar.
His very vocal complaints proved otherwise, but Winnie ignored him and moved on to Suzie.
Suzie's high-pitched complaints echoed in the bedroom. Despite being the youngest, she surely made up her size in volume. If she hated something, she let everyone know. And now, Suzie unabashedly criticized Winnie's fashion choices. She wanted to wear pants like her brothers, but Winnie had already picked out a cute red dress for her to wear last night. Besides, the older women at the church would judge her if she allowed her daughter to wear a suit instead of a dress.
Suzie either had to wear a dress or Winnie has to deal with snide remarks from the old women.
Fighting with a toddler sounded easier.
"NO!" Suzie shouted, her little arms folded across her chest in defiance as Winnie held up the dress.
"It's cute, and you're wearing it whether you like it or not," Winnie responded. The three-year-old shook her head and stood on the opposite side of Winnie's bed.
"Bucky and Travis don't wear dresses," Suzie argued.
"They're boys, sweetie. Boys don't wear dresses," Winnie said.
"I don't wanna!" Suzie protested.
Sighing, Winnie crossed the room and picked Suzie up. Hugging her close, Winnie whispered into her daughter's ear: "It's only for a couple of hours. Then you can change when you get home, okay? You won't get presents if you don't wear a dress."
The thought of losing her presents frightened Suzie enough to stop struggling. The toddler finally relented, but her frown showed her dislike.
Suzie pouted the whole time Winnie fussed with the dress and tied the belt into a bow at the back.
The socks and shoes were easier, but heaven forbid that Winnie tried to tie a red ribbon in Suzie's hair. Suzie yanked herself out of Winnie's grasp and flew out of the room the moment Winnie pulled out the ribbon.
Deciding to pick her battles, Winnie tucked the ribbon into her pocket in hopes that Suzie would behave enough in church to let Winnie tie the ribbon.
Walking slowly down the stairs due to her swollen belly, Winnie grabbed her coat and the keys to the car and double-checked the kids' outfits.
"Bucky, tie your shoes," Winnie scolded when she noticed Bucky's unlaced dress shoes.
"Why?" Bucky asked. It was a stupid habit of his that annoyed Winnie to no end. He never liked tying his shoes. Even as an infant, he would kick whenever Winnie would attempt to do something so atrocious. She was silently waiting for the day when Bucky would trip over his laces - maybe that would teach him to listen.
"Because I said so," Winnie replied, buttoning up her winter coat and herding the trio of kids out the front door. Locking the house behind them, Winnie took a deep breath and sent out a silent prayer that the kids would behave in church.
Turning around to face the short walkway of their front yard, Winnie waddled down the path. She plucked a snowball out of Bucky's raised hand and tossed it to the side.
"Aww, you're no fun," Bucky pouted, his attempt to throw a snowball at his brother ruined.
"In the car, now," Winnie ordered, snapping her fingers at Bucky.
Bucky complied and piled into the front bench seat of their 1910 Model T Ford. Suzie and Travis already squeezed in together in the front seat, tugging at the blanket shared between them.
Reaching the front of the Model T, Winnie cranked the lever in the front while Bucky reached over Suzie and Travis to adjust the throttle lever on the steering wheel.
It did not start.
Winnie tried again, managed to start it, waddled over to the driver seat, and prepared to leave for church.
The car rolled a few feet before stalling.
Annoyed, Winnie slid out of the seat and trudged over to the front of the car again. The kids' arguing distracted her from starting the vehicle.
George had taught her how to start and drive the 1910 Model T twice before, but George usually drove it instead of her.
He loved that stupid vehicle. He had bought it brand new before Winnie and George had even met. He had driven it from the Ford parking lot to his family's farm in Indiana because he refused to let anyone else drive it. He used it for work on the farm but took care of it well enough that it still ran and performed well.
They had shared countless memories in the car. For their first date, George took Winnie on a cruise around his hometown. They had driven away in the car after their wedding in 1916. They used it to haul their belongings when they moved into a townhouse in Winnie's hometown of Brooklyn. In fact, Bucky was probably even conceived in the backseat during their honeymoon.
George would always help her in and out of the front seat, kissing her once she sat down.
Winnie remembered riding home from the hospital after the birth of each of her children. Each time George would drive slowly to make sure that their newborn baby would not wake up from the bumps.
All those memories could not help Winnie figure out how to start and drive the damn vehicle.
After the third failed attempt, Winnie sat staring out of the windshield, her gloved hands gripping the steering wheel as the kids beside her argued over the blanket.
"Stop pulling," Suzie whined. As the youngest, she sat squished between Winnie and Travis. Bucky sat on the far side, near the door, yanking the blanket back. Winnie did not trust them to sit in the backseat alone, so they sat in front with her - which started to prove to be a mistake.
"You gotta share," Bucky snapped.
"I'm squished!" Travis shouted.
"But I'm cold!" Suzie protested, her little fingers pulling the blanket towards herself.
Being bigger and older, Bucky managed to tug the blanket out of Suzie's grip and tuck it more around his legs.
Wailing, Suzie buried her face into Winnie's side, babbling incoherent nonsense. Travis kicked his legs in an attempt to make more room for himself.
The children's squabbling faded to white noise in Winnie's head.
One word from George would make them behave. Now, Winnie could hardly take care of herself let alone three rambunctious children.
The children seemed more unruly after George's death. Winnie struggled with preparing meals, cleaning the constant flood of laundry, maintaining the house, managing Bucky's school schedule, and finding a job to provide for her family.
She felt drained, debilitated, and left in an emotional fog that would not dissipate.
They used to have their life figured out. George provided food and money for the family while Winnie took care of the children and the house. Now, however, she felt spread too thin without a strong yet gentle hand assisting her.
She longed for George to wrap her into a warm embrace and plant soft kisses on her hair, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
The only hand that reached out to her was the icy wind whipping around the car.
Suddenly overwhelmed, Winnie sank her head onto the steering wheel and sobbed.
She cried for the loss of her beloved George - her husband and best friend. She cried for the happy life that could have been. She cried because of the cruel fate of the world, her life came crashing down like George's faulty parachute. She cried for her children, wishing that they would behave. She cried because she felt inadequate to care for her children. She cried because George would never experience another Christmas or see their children grow up.
She cried because she hated feeling hopeless and alone. She cried because she wanted the stupid car to start and make it to church in time and to have a happy Christmas without all the grief.
Through her sobs, Winnie heard the children quiet down in shock. The car stopped shaking from the children's tug-of-war.
"I'm sorry, ma," Bucky's muttered, his voice somber and soft.
"'M sorry, ma," Suzie and Travis echoed.
Wiping her tears with the back of her gloved hand, Winnie looked over at three little faces, their eyes wide with concern.
Reaching out, Winnie wrapped the children - her and George's children - into a hug. The kids hugged her back, for once devoid of questions or arguments.
They stayed like that for a while, letting Winnie cry out her emotions.
The first Christmas without George would be difficult, to say the least, but how much worse could life become?
Life became worse. Albeit, several years later, but definitely worse.
A mother's worse nightmare became true.
Ever since the letter explaining Bucky's supposed capture and death, Winnie felt her life start to crumble again.
Flashbacks of George's death haunted her every night since Bucky's letter. She dreamt of George's mangled body laying on the ground with Bucky bleeding out beside him. Sometimes the bullet would shift from Bucky's stomach to his head or his chest. Or George would fall from the sky with Bucky staring in shock at his plummeting father, too distracted to notice the mine he would step on. Or both men would blow up in a fiery explosion. Or both her husband and son would plunge from an extensive height, their bones crunching from the impact.
She could hear Bucky's cries for her to help him, but she always stood rooted to the spot, unable to comfort her baby. They always stared at her, begging for her with their eyes. Sometimes, Bucky would lie bleeding out, reaching out to her. Sometimes a mine would sever his limb and it would lie several feet away from his body, but his hand always pointed in her direction.
Her imagination did not need to run wild with Travis's death, his outstretched hand real and vivid.
After the first bullet struck their pastor, Winnie sat rooted in fear, her knuckles turning white from gripping the seat of the pew. Her limbs refused to move until she heard a pained grunt to her right. Red bloomed on Travis's shirt when he fell to the floor, seemingly in slow motion. One hand rested on his chest, the other outstretched and pleading for her aid.
Becca and Suzie huddled on the floor beneath the pew, shaking in terror. Suzie's hand blocked Becca's view of Travis's dead body.
Spurred into action, Winnie dropped to her knees, not caring about the bruises forming from the impact.
"My baby…" Winnie cried, tears falling from her steel-blue eyes. She reached out with a shaking hand to press against Travis's cheek. Her other hand grasped Travis's hand which still radiated heat.
Sobbing into Travis's hair, Winnie's heart skipped several beats. A wave of dizzying nausea washed over her and she struggled to breathe through the ache in her chest.
Out of the corner of her eye, Winnie saw Becca and Suzie crawl under the pews toward the basement stairwell.
"Please, Lord, protect them," Winnie prayed, her hands clutching her dead son's limp body. "Protect my daughters, since you so cruelly took away my sons."
Rocking back and forth with Travis wrapped tightly in her arms, Winnie stroked Travis's hair and pressed kisses to his cooling forehead. She did not notice his blood staining her dress and pooling around her knees.
Glancing up through Travis's hair, Winnie watched one of the gunmen jump down from the choir loft and wade through the piles of bodies. He stood uncomfortably near where Becca and Suzie hid underneath the last row of pews.
Protect them. A voice in Winnie's head urged. You are their mother - protect them.
With a mother's tenderness, Winnie laid Travis down on the floor and pressed a final kiss to his forehead. Standing up, Winnie took a deep breath, picked up a hymnal book, and clambered over the pews. Without a second thought for her safety, Winnie swung the hymnal book at the back of the gunman's head.
The man cursed and whirled around on her, more pissed off than injured.
"Bitch!" the man shouted, spit flying from his mouth in rage. Despite the outburst, Winnie succeeded in moving his aim toward her instead of her daughters.
"Burn in hell, bastard," Winnie snapped through gritted teeth. Tears rolled down her cheeks while she clutched the book white-knuckled in her hands.
A second later, another bang pierced the air. A firey, piercing pain laced up Winnie's left side, and her knees buckled before she hit the floor.
Before her vision went black, Winnie watched with a teary smile as her daughters finally reached the stairwell and tumbled down into the safety of the darkness.
The buzzing of muffled voices woke Winnie up. She blinked to clear the spots dancing in front of her eyes. A yellowing, incandescent light hung above the hospital bed she lay in. The smell of disinfectant and blood attacked her nose, sending another wave of nausea crashing over her.
Sensing a commotion to her right, Winnie groaned and rotated her head to the right-hand side of the bed. The little movement sent the spots waltzing again and she blinked several times to clear them away.
"Ma!" Suzie's voice exclaimed, her warm hand slipping into Winnie's clammy one. Her voice sounded shaky and concerned, but Suzie's hand gripped Winnie's like a lost child.
"Suzie?" Winnie croaked out, her throat dry. Her vision swam when she attempted to sit up to view her daughter better. Suzie fluffed up the pillows and arranged them in a comfortable position. Winnie sighed and rested against the pillows, fighting nausea and dancing spots. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Suzie pulled her chair closer to Winnie's bed and sat down instead of hovering over her mother. A frown pulled at Suzie's lips and she appeared to have been crying. Her tangled hair stuck to her forehead in sweaty knots. A mild bruise circled Suzie's left eye, the skin already turning dark. Despite Suzie's disheveled appearance, Winnie found no other visible injuries on her oldest daughter.
"I'm okay, ma," Suzie replied. Up close, Winnie could see Suzie shaking in her chair, their clasped hands the only motionless part of Suzie. Suzie's reddened eyes roved over Winnie, searching for something unknown.
Winnie allowed herself to take a small sigh of relief. Allowing Suzie to continue her silent search, Winnie glanced around the hospital room. Bandages wrapped around Winnie's stomach. The thickest part of the bandages bunched up on her left side, covering the bullet wound.
Moving on from herself, Winnie took in her surroundings. A wooden clipboard hung from the bed frame at her feet, the attached paper unreadable from her current angle. Curtains on both sides of the bed separated her from the other patients. A bedside table offered a glass of water but Winnie saw no sign of her youngest daughter.
"Where's Becca?" Winnie asked, worry welling up in her stomach. Her heart fluttered and skipped a few beats, fearing the worse. She swore that both girls escaped the church, but the lack of Becca's presence sent shivers up her spine.
"She's in the bathroom," Suzie replied, gently squeezing Winnie's hand. "She's fine, but you need to calm down. The doctor said you had a mild heart attack and you're at risk for another one if you get too worked up. You also lost a lot of blood. It wasn't enough for a blood transfusion, but you'll pull out the stitches if you move too much."
Settling down against the pillow, Winnie closed her eyes to try to calm her nerves.
"Anything else?" Winnie asked, her eyes still closed.
"The bullet missed all vital organs, but you're still stuck in bedrest for a few weeks while the stitches heal," Suzie explained. "The doctor said to drink a lot of water."
Suddenly feeling woeful, Winnie's breath hitched in her throat as her eyes started burning with tears.
"Travis…oh Travis. My baby…" Winnie muttered. "My baby…"
The reality of what happened finally hit her and Winnie broke down into sobs. Suzie attempted to console her, muttering about a possible heart attack, but Winnie continued to weep.
"When will it end? When will it end?" Winnie cried. "First George, and then Bucky, and now Travis. Why, Lord, did you take my family away from me?"
"Ma," Suzie's voice broke through Winnie's sorrowful cries. "You still have Becca and me. We're still here. We're okay."
Through her tears, Winnie's eyes latched onto her daughter's face. She could see a bit of George's determination etched on Suzie's face. A fiery sadness blazed in Suzie's eyes, the same eyes she shared with her mother. Winnie could tell that Suzie wanted to help - to do something - but Suzie's slumped shoulders told Winnie that her daughter had finally started to give up. Suzie tried to hold everything together, but Winnie could see through the cracks in Suzie's walls.
Winnie knew that Suzie hated feeling useless whenever a situation fell out of control - something that Suzie and George shared. It saddened Winnie to see her daughter so disheartened when Suzie used to be cheerful and passionate.
"Darling, do you know why your middle name is Lily?" Winnie asked, her hand cupping her daughter's cheek.
Suzie shook her head, allowing Winnie to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Suzie's eyes shimmered with tears, reflecting Winnie's grief in the oceanic, twin pools.
"Lilies are beautiful, durable flowers. They symbolize purity and passion as well as confidence. They are symbols of Mary, the mother of Jesus, who is the greatest woman to ever walk the face of this planet," Winnie explained. "When we picked your middle name, George and I never thought that it would fit you so well. You're a beautiful young lady and I know we've had our differences but I could always see the passion burning bright within you.
"I've been holding onto you too tight, Suzannah. I've never had a sister and when I learned I was pregnant with you, I couldn't contain my excitement. I had so many ideas and dreams of what we could do together, like play dress up and style each other's hair. I know now that you never enjoyed the same things I do. You're a completely different person with your own dreams and hobbies. I've been hurting both of us because I never let you pursue what you wanted. I've criticized your differences and selfishly wanted you to follow my plans. I never understood that you and I have different views of what makes a woman.
"I always thought that you were never going to be ready for the world, but now I realize that the world isn't ready for you."
Tears pooled in Suzie's eyes, her bottom lip quivering despite biting it in an attempt to stop the movement. Winnie sadly smiled and guided Suzie's head down to kiss her daughter's forehead.
"Take care of Becca for me," Winnie choked out while nausea and lightheadedness returned. An unseen hand gripped her heart, squeezing with all its might. She suddenly felt exhausted and weak, her hand slipping from Suzie's face.
Through the buzzing in her head, Winnie could hear Becca enter the room while Suzie gripped Winnie's limp hand.
"Ma?" Suzie said, her voice muffled despite sitting next to the bed.
"I'm…o…kay…" Winnie muttered, the left side of her face feeling numb. Her lips refused to move, her entire left side seizing up.
"Ma!" Suzie shouted this time, her concerned face blurring in and out of Winnie's vision. "Help! A doctor, help!"
The room swam in front of Winnie's eyes. She tried blinking to clear her vision, but each time her eyelids became heavier and heavier.
"Mama, no!" Becca's voice mixed with Suzie's, both daughters gripping their mother's hands.
"Please! No!"
Winnie attempted to squeeze her daughters' hands, but an unseen force pinned her arms down to the bedsheets. The blackness kept edging in, her daughters' concerned faces swimming in and out of focus. Her eyelids felt like bricks and a hammer pounded on the inside of her head.
"...Ma…"
"..Please…"
"...Mama..."
Mustering the meager amount of strength left in her body, Winnie forced her lips to work and whispered:
"I…love...you…"
Lethargic, Winnie slipped into the darkness for the final time.
Did I spend time watching five different videos just to write one scene about the 1910 Model T? Yes, yes I did. Did I know that Suzie means 'lily'? No, no I did not. So, apparently, Suzie's name is Lily Lily Barnes. Oops. :-/ Also, learn the warning signs of a heart attack and stroke.