I'm back with a rewrite. I had too many ideas after publishing this story the first time, so I decided to go back and rewrite it. After reading a wonderful story, We Were Soldiers by The Urban Spaceman (on FFN), I found a lot of motivation to work on this WW2 story. This story will be longer, better, and more developed than the original, but it will still follow the same storyline as the previous version.
This will also NOT have a happy ending. We all know how Bucky's story ends.
If you want a more interactive reading (with links, pictures, videos, etc.) feel free to check out my AO3 version (same username and story title). I can't get links and pictures to work on FFN, but AO3 (and Wattpad, if you prefer that one) do, so I've added some extra content that I think enhances the story.
Without further ado, enjoy! :)
CONTENT WARNING: Swearing
Chapter One: The Letter
The bustle of New York City—crying kids, angry drivers, overwhelmed mothers, and that one newspaper boy who always stood at street corners yelling the latest headlines—no longer sounded the same to Suzannah "Suzie" Lily Barnes. Born and raised as a Brooklyn kid, she had known New York all her life, but this time, it felt different, quieter, suffocating.
Maybe the collective anxiety about the war dampened everyday life like a thick, woolly blanket. Everyone listened to the newspaper boys to hear about the frontlines, hoping that their son, brother, or husband would not appear in the weekly obituaries.
Sometimes, people found out about a loved one's death in the newspapers before a letter arrived.
Unfortunately, the obituaries did not cover presumed deaths, only confirmed. Telegraphs or letters informed families of presumed deaths or soldiers missing in action. And somehow, it felt worse.
The letter had come in early October in 1943, on a day when the weather almost made everyone forget about the war. The sun shone through the perfectly clean windows that Suzie's mother always kept crystal clear. The air had felt crisp yet pleasant as Suzie walked home from the post office after a long day at the harbor.
Mail duty fell on Suzie since the harbor was the closest to the post office, which she did not mind. She liked the chance to be alone before she arrived at the lively Barnes house.
Winnie Barnes, since she was the mother, always checked the mail after Suzie brought it home. Standing at the stove, Winnie would sort through the bills and junk mail, usually ignoring it until after supper.
However, when Suzie had handed her mother the mail on that fateful day in October, Mrs. Barnes froze after looking through the letters, her hand still on the wooden spoon she was using to stir the gravy.
The cheerful feeling in the Barnes household immediately evaporated once Winnie shared the news of Bucky's capture and presumed death. Travis, Suzie's older brother by a year, went out and got drunk that night. Becca, Suzie's younger sister by three years, had stood there confused for the longest time before running to Bucky's room and crying herself to sleep on his bed. Suzie had left her mother at the kitchen table, the gravy burning, to lock herself in her room and stare at a framed picture of the family all night.
The reality of war had finally hit.
Still numb, Suzie currently counted the supplies before loading them into crates, ignoring her coworkers. Her job had become mundane and pointless, knowing that Bucky was out there, in the hands of the enemy.
The letter had completely destroyed Winnie Barnes. After a parachuting training accident that led to the death of Suzie's father, George Barnes, Winnie had refused to let any of the kids near anything remotely similar to the military. Naturally, when Bucky enlisted, she felt devastated but not nearly as distraught as she was now. Mrs. Barnes had even looked at a few gravestone designs for Bucky to be 'spiritually' buried next to George.
Sometimes, it felt like Suzie was the only one who still believed that Bucky was still alive. Her mother immediately believed Bucky was dead. Travis went out drinking nearly every night after his shift at a weapons factory. Becca, who was just starting to be more social, had retreated back into her shell and refused to talk to anyone.
Suzie knew that she should feel glum; however, she felt angry. Angry at the Japanese for bombing Pearl Harbor and forcing the United States to join the war. Angry at Bucky for enlisting after he promised that he wouldn't. Angry at the army for putting Bucky in danger. Angry at Hitler for causing the war in the first place. Angry at her mother and siblings for giving up on Bucky so easily.
Sounds of sobbing broke Suzie from her silent fuming. Marking down the crate number on a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard, Suzie turned to see one of the few other women at the harbor crying. Suzie's boss stood in front of the woman, angrily berating her and gesturing wildly, spit flying from his mouth at every word.
"Hey!" Suzie shouted, setting down the clipboard on the wooden crate and marching over to the conflict. "What's going on?"
"It's none of your damn business, Barnes," Suzie's boss shouted, his pudgy face beet-red, showing off his triple chins. His stomach bulged from the top of his pants, the buttons on his stark-white shirt straining to contain his bulk. "Get back to work."
"I'm not going back to work until you leave her alone," Suzie retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and standing between the other woman and the boss.
The boss scoffed, sweat beading on his balding head despite the cool November weather. "What is with women? You're too damn emotional."
"You're the one who's 'too damn emotional.' Yelling at someone like that," Suzie snapped.
"She messed up the count! You bitches ruin everything you touch. I only hired you stupid women because I'm short-staffed. I could do better than all of you combined," the boss yelled.
"Let me see your hands," Suzie said. The boss, looking confused, held out his right hand and let Suzie flip it over so that his palm was facing up. "Oh, would you look at that," Suzie mused out loud. "They're so soft. Probably because you're too stupid and lazy to do anything so you just pay others to do things you say that you 'could do better.' Probably never worked a day in your life and take pleasure in bossing others around because you're bored and rolling in money.'"
The boss scrunched up his face and yanked his hand away. The woman behind Suzie let out a small laugh.
"How about you go take your money and shove it," Suzie made a little click with her tongue as she pointed upward with her index finger, "right up your ass. It won't hurt so much, with those soft hands of yours." Suzie wiggled her fingers at the man and turned sharply on her heel, gently guiding the other woman away.
Suzie strode away as the boss yelled profanities and threatened to fire her. The other woman, whose name Suzie never learned, stopped when they reached the crate Suzie was previously working on.
"Thank you," the woman said. "It was amazing, seeing someone finally stand up to him."
"It's no problem. He's a douchebag anyway," Suzie replied, picking up the clipboard.
"He's probably going to fire you for making him look stupid," the woman continued.
"Yeah, well, it wouldn't be the first time. Or the second. Or even the third," Suzie said, jotting down a note on the clipboard. "My mom says I have a temper. I say I just can't stand people bullying others, especially if the other person cannot defend themselves. Not saying that you couldn't defend yourself, it's just that he's been doing that to too many people, and-"
"It's okay. I completely understand. I don't have as much confidence as you, so thank you again for helping me. I really need this job, but it's awful when people are using this war to take advantage of other people."
Suzie froze, the clipboard digging into her hands as her grip tightened, the letter flashing in her mind. "Right, the war." She blinked a few times to bring herself back to reality. "The war that we are supporting… by sending them these supplies… that we should get back to working on before we're definitely both fired."
The woman nodded and gave Suzie a quick hug before heading back to where she was previously working.
Right, the war. The war forced so many people, the Barnes included, to find jobs to support their families when all the men were out dying or captured. The war claimed lives, either by death or by ruining the chances of having a happy life free of turmoil.
The war stole Bucky away from home, refusing to return him and leaving his family to suffer.
Despite being the third out of four kids, Suzie knew how to take care of herself. Maybe it was because she was the oldest girl. Maybe it was because she inherited her father's stubbornness even though he died when she was three. Maybe it was because she was sick of others treating her like she did not matter.
A tomboy at heart, Suzie never focused on her looks, mainly because she found it a waste of time. Besides, makeup and hair products cost too much to constantly buy when the Barnes family struggled with finances during the Depression. Her shoulder-length, chocolate-brown hair was either loose or in a messy ponytail. She usually wore trousers instead of skirts or dresses, something that she and her mother constantly argued over. She roughhoused with her older brothers and played in the dirt, earning her a fair share of scars. She taught herself how to box after Becca was almost assaulted by a group of teenage boys when the youngest Barnes girl was ten. Knowing how to throw a punch certainly helped since Steve constantly ended up in trouble, which usually resulted in Bucky, Travis, or Suzie pulling the little punk out of fights.
Suzie knew how to defend herself, handle bullies, deal with perverts, and throw a mean fastball.
What she did not know was how to handle losing a loved one.
The letter dissolved all hope of Bucky returning. Although he was older than her by seven years, Suzie felt the closest to him. Some would say it was because they shared such similar appearances. Suzie and Bucky inherited their father's chocolate brown hair and mother's steel-blue eyes. Travis and Becca inherited their mother's sandy brown hair and their father's warm, brown eyes. Not that Suzie remembered her father much.
Bucky made her feel important. He listened when no one else did. He let her tag along whenever he and Steve hung out. He helped her when she started high school and wanted to burn her math homework after learning about imaginary numbers.
He was the life of the party, a giant nerd, the beacon of hope and joy, and a hero in Suzie's eyes. To her, he was strong and untouchable with a heart of gold.
Now, his room stood empty, silent. Dust coated his collection of boxing and baseball trophies. A small picture frame housed their family photo, the one with baby Becca and no George since he died a few months before Becca was born. A picture of their father sat next to the family photo, along with another picture of Bucky and Steve after one of Bucky's boxing matches. A few of Steve's artworks hung from the wall next to the bookshelves and trophies. A lopsided clay pot that Suzie made in the second grade sat on the desk beside the stationary set Bucky used for his old job as an office clerk. George's old guitar rested in a stand on the right side of the desk near the window. Bucky played whenever he had the chance. Becca loved the music and would refuse to go to bed every night without it. He would even bring it to church and sing, just like what George used to do.
Searching through the closet, Suzie pulled out a brown, wool jacket. It was well-worn, but still nice since everyone in the house knew how to take care of their belongings. With the cold weather on the way, the jacket would help keep Suzie warm at the docks.
Folding the jacket over her arm, Suzie closed the closet door and walked out of Bucky's room. Travis's arm across the doorframe stopped her at the doorway.
"What are you doing in Bucky's room?" Travis asked, his sandy brown hair messy and his brown eyes slightly glassy from drinking.
"I need a jacket for work," Suzie said and ducked under Travis's arm. He frowned and grabbed her wrist, spinning her back to face him.
"I thought Ma told us to stay out of his room," Travis replied, closing the door behind them.
"If Bucky were here, he would let me take it. Mine has a hole."
"But, he's not here," Travis protested.
"Then why's it matter if I take his jacket?" Suzie yanked her hand away from Travis and strode to her room. Slamming the door shut, she leaned against it, sliding down so that she sat with her knees curled up to her chest.
Clutching the jacket to her chest, Suzie fought back tears.
Her brother, the one who always supported her independence even when their mother constantly badgered Suzie to act more ladylike, no longer stood by her side. It felt like the war had ripped out a piece of her heart. Her anchor, her cornerstone, her lifeline when life became too tough for her to manage alone, was gone.
And he might never return.
The next chapter will hopefully be posted sometime during April. I only have about a month left before finals, so updates will be sporadic.