Spoiler! :
The Journal of Benjamin Parker
February 11, 1942 10am
Hospital in London, England
There's the huge expanse of blue sky above with no clouds to mar its indescribable vastness. Not even on the horizon, did the masses of white build.
We were young boys, most just out of high school. Some, so eager to take a bite out of Hitler, had lied about their age and were still without a diploma. That was my squadron, most of them dead now. We were on the verge of life as we were on the verge of battle.
Before we were even sent into the fray, it was over for us, boys who had just begun, who were waiting for reality to take place of this unbelievable nightmare.
It ended with a whistle for most.
For me, there was the earsplitting whistle as a half-hearted warning and an earth shaking explosion as light and sound joined. I was thrown through the air, surrounded by blue, blue, blue ruined by dust and chunks of my fellows. In the horror of the dirt and blood, there was a moment of freedom in the sky I was hurtling through. Painful impact on earth packed down by hundreds of feet brought the disgust, the pain to the forefront.
There was black for seconds spread over eternity, and the ground shook again. Black faded into blue, breathtaking in my disoriented state. Screams of other soldiers came from miles away while the world stilled. My arm burned, but I couldn't look to tend to it.
Movement on the edges of my vision surrendered to stationary blue. The sounds of battle came to me in bursts of head splitting noise and dead silence. In those times of silence, I could have sworn I had gone to stay with my Creator. Only the fact that I was looking up at the sky instead of looking down, laughing at the silly mortals fighting amongst themselves solidified the fact that I was alive.
June 17, 1942 7:30am
Lillie's Boarding House in Charleston, South Carolina
Somehow I'm still surrounded by blue.
If you're reading this, I hope you're a grandchild sitting in the lap of an old and gray version of myself. Maybe, your a grief stricken wife I'll meet tomorrow morning at church, only to leave years from now. I hope you're not my mother who swears by a journal, claiming of its power to calm a distressed mind, for I have decided to take the advice I shunned when I was staying with her four months ago.. For now, I'll imagine you're a stranger, favoring me with a pitying ear as you share nothing of yourself.
My room was the last open and is painted a bright cheerful blue. Waking out of dreams filled with the sky and the war, I find it disorienting, but I'm happy to be sleeping in a bed, surrounded by this sickening blue or no.
I stare at the pure parchment I've already marred with an ugly scrawl created by one who writes with the unfavorable hand and listen to a fellow boarder slaughter the latest patriotic hit on the piano as I think of what I could possibly write about now that my adventure has ended before it could begin, writing to write. I suppose I should do as any novelist would and start at the beginning, not the beginning of my life, but the beginning of this new chapter. I've gone from the farmland of the West to the battlefields of Europe, and now I've made myself welcome in a city of the South, a place like nothing else. Instead of green plains of grass and dark areas of fertile soil, I can look out upon an ever moving sea. Instead of being alone with the wind, I share the sound of the waves sliding upon the shore with hundreds of others. It's new and refreshing and reassuring.
Somehow, I found myself using the money the Army paid me and my parents could afford to give me, to rent a small room in the home of a new widow carrying her husbands only lasting legacy. Now I share breakfast and dinner with two other tenants and spend my day walking the line between getting drunk enough to forget all the people dead, to numb the pain of an nonexistent arm and drunk enough to get kicked out of a christian lady's house.
It's morning, and I'm waiting to hear the call for breakfast. I'm stone cold sober, and trying to build up the courage to turn the page back to read what I'd written months before. Instead, I'm going to finish this sentence and close the journal, telling myself I'm not a coward.
Later
Tommorow pay day for Lillie. Spent rest o mony n drnk this afternon. Hav non for rent. Don't now wat to tel her. Just want to slep. Think abot it in th mornin.
June 18 8:30
On the Beach
I wince internally at my entry last night and stare at the sparkling ocean. Twilight makes it a dark blue. Ever since I was sent back, I dislike blue if you haven't been able to tell. It mocks me and my loss. I think of the unreachable blue sky, how it laughs at us suffering below it. Blue is just a color. The sky is just air and atmosphere. Lillie's cold eyes that sparkle angrily as she places grits in the four empty bowls are what I'm really thinking of.
She collected the rent money as she served breakfast.
The colonel twisted his waxed mustache and muttered of the price as he does every month, though it's probably the cheapest in town. Lillie smiled and tapped the colonel's shoulder playfully, replying as she always does, “Come, Peter. I cook good enough for you, don't I?” She then gave him an extra spoonful of breakfast. Miriam handed over the bills with a smile and patted Lillie's protruding belly as she does every morning, commenting on how soon the birth will be.
Today, when answering Miriam's soft spoken comment, she deviated from the routine. “It's a week overdue.” She winked as if sharing something with only Miriam. “I think I'm ready for this baby to come out.” Miriam laughed and said encouragingly, “It'll come when its time comes, and you'll just be the happier.”
I watched Lillie spoon the grits onto my plate and waited. Based on what I'd seen with my fellow boarders, she would give me a pass, but she doesn't like me. I don't know if she just doesn't take to people quickly or if she really doesn't like me.
“Where's your rent, Ben?”
“I don't have any money?” I murmured, looking up bashfully.
She doesn't act as she does when Miriam has no money because her well married sister forgot to send the monthly check. Lillie frowned, eyes glittering like the ocean now before me. “Drink it all away?”
I opened my mouth only to close it. Somehow, I had made myself believe everyone was oblivious to my condition when I stepped in for a meal.
She accepted the silence as an answer. “Don't come back if you don't have the money tonight.”
She left to put the pot back into the kitchen, and the dining room fell into silence. Miriam won't meet my eye, but the colonel whacked his black cane on the table top.
“I'd take what you want from yer room now. I'm not gonna let you back in with yer money.”
I stood then, abandoning my breakfast waiting for grace to be said over it. “I need to go out,” I spat and left the room.
As the ocean reflects an orange sunset, I realize sand is rather uncomfortable, maybe more so than an apology. I throw the cigarette not allowed in the house into the sand and step on it. The colonel would be on his daily walk in about ten minutes. The pistol no one's supposed to know about unmanned in the bedside table...
I think some grovelling may be in order.
June 19 9:15pm
Lillie's Boarding House
I jogged from the beach to the house and leaned against the wall of an alley when the colonel walked by with Miriam on his arm. I watched with slight amusement when he pushed her against the brick just past the house and pressed his lips to hers. I had known something was going on with them. He ignored her chatter too well, and she didn't mind his lack of attention too easily.
As they turned the corner, his cane tapping against the cobblestones, I made a dash for Lillie's door. I was at the door, the knob was turned, and I froze. I'd been at this house for about two months, had tried charming Lillie. She was better than me. She had better morals, a better lifestyle. She went to church and let whoever come and stay for dinner because they needed something to eat.
I was a bitter man without his right arm who said a prayer before meals because it was required. What could I say to make her give me another chance?
I opened the door without another thought. I suppose I could say I was a bitter man without an arm.
“Peter?”
Lillie's voice came from her room branching off of the parlor that lay behind the door.
I frowned at her breathless tone and ventured into the dark room. “No. I want to apologize-”
“Ben! I'm so glad you came back.” Her voice cracked, and I could just make out her form on the bed.
“Can I turn on the lights?” At her grunt of approval, I flipped a switch and sucked in air through my teeth at her sweat covered face, white and drawn.
“I was just going to rest my feet, but I fell asleep. They had already gone when-”
I caught on before she had to finish her sentence between gasps. “The baby's coming.”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“We need to go to the hospital.”
Another laugh bubbled through her lips, and she let out a slow breath. “There's an old lady next door. We had an agreement I would go to her first. Plus, I don't have a car, and I have a feeling I couldn't walk there.”
I ran my hand through my hair and shook my head. “I can't believe you have a sense of humor at a time like this.”
She smiled. “I'm pretty sure this is natural.”
I stared at her for a moment and sighed. “I'll be right back.”
The door opened to a white haired African American lady that I had seen gardening in her little plot at the back of her house. She looked at me for a moment and turned away. “Uh'll beh righ' dere. Jus' wai' a momen'. Uh've binnuh wai'in' fa oonuh da cum fa a while.” She came back with a bag made with a fabric of floral pattern and patted me on the arm. “Sha's strong. Sha'll beh fi'.”
I thought a moment, focusing on the muddled words. “Oh, I'm not... She's not... I'm just a boarder.”
“I kna. Me' 'ave a ten'anca er thinkin' a woma' gonna da 'cause sha gives liaf ta anotha bein'.”
I kept pace with arthritic knees as we walk back to the house and replied slowly, “I don't see why you complain. We're just concerned.”
“Oonuh ga an' mak us stressed. Uh 'ad fuv chillun, and Uhma still abrethin'. Oona've ga' na rasun ta worra. Sha's i' goo' 'ands.”
“Shouldn't she be in a-”
“'Ospi'als da nothun I ca',” she replied curtly and opened the door for herself. “'Et ma up sum wa'er an' wai' ou' 'ere, 'arlin'.”
Now she's behind a closed door with soft moans, and the clock is ticking loudly.
Miriam entered the door opened by the colonel and hardly glanced at me before entering Lillie's room. The colonel stared at the closed door and then at me.
I looked at him and then down at my hands.
He sighed and sat down in his usual faded red armchair, leaning his cane on the hearth. “Of course, as soon as I leave, she decides to have the baby.” He glared at me. “And don't you dare think I've forgotten my promise just because of this.”
I smiled and turned to the piano, building chords with the help of the pedal. “I've been thinking on that.”
“We all do when we're facing homelessness.” He took his cane and limped over to the piano, leaning on the top. “The kind of man determines what it produces.”
“I've been afraid of addiction,” I admitted. “I haven't been drinking every day.” I stopped fiddling with notes and met serious brown eyes.
“I know. We're not blind. We know the difference between the nights when you can barely string an understandable sentence together and when you carry intelligent conversation..”
I laughed softly. “I'm not sure how I've fooled myself this whole time.”
He scoffed and closed his eyes tiredly. “I've tried not to like you because you're not good for Lillie to be around as you are, but... I'm going to give you some advice from a soldier in a similar position.” He knocked his cane against the wooden side of the piano and began slowly, “I was older than you by about ten years when I went to Europe for the Great War. I had been rotting there for a long stretch when I was in the wrong place in the trenches.” He opened his eyes to focus on me. “Ten boys died that day. I was sent home with a bum leg and the Army's 'thank you for your service'.” He ran a hand through salt and pepper hair at another cry muffled by the door. “What I mean is, I understand where you are right now. I squandered my money on drugs however. Beer wasn't enough for me, I'm afraid.”
I stared at the ivory keys, unable to keep the fierce eye contact.
“I lost my wife and my boy. I haven't seen him in... ten years. Then, I almost killed myself in some gutter when Lillie brought me to this little house and talked her mean old husband into keeping me until I had regained enough strength and sense to stand on my own two feet without the help of the needle.” He sighed. “She hooked me up with a job. “That was only five years ago, Ben. I gave up almost twenty years of my life. I practically died. I would be dead if it wasn't for her. Lillie's a good person, and she deserves better than what she got in life.”
I frowned. “You mean losing her husband so early?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Sure.” He grew serious very quickly and said slowly, studying me, “So... I guess the question is, do you want to go through what I have or do you want to try to make a life for yourself through your...” He pushed a key down. “Music.” He smirked at my look of surprise. “I talk to people, and I know the owner of your normal bar. I know what you do when you're not drinking yourself to death, tickling the ivories.”
I shook my head. “You're good, colonel.”
He chuckled. “You can call me Peter if you wish, unless you mess everything you have going for you up. I've heard you've got some pretty quick fingers.” He walked away slowly.
“Used to,” I murmured and began forming chords again.
June 20 2am
Lillie's Boarding House
Blue... is the color of missing limbs and broken legs. It's the color that comes to mind when we see a little boy who cries in the first moments of life and quiets quickly, happily feeding from his mother who lies back in her bed, exhausted and happy.
There has been a happy start to a beautiful weekend and the promising life of Thomas Meyers. Honestly, watching the col- Peter pace as the hours stretched on has been quite exhausting, so instead of writing the many things one could say about the beauty of a new life in the world, I'm going to bed with Peter's story echoing in my mind as I turn off the light.
July 5 11pm
Boarding House
Blue, for the moment, has become little fingers and toes. Blue is giggles and coos. It's a bit odd, I think to use a color to symbolize my life, but I'm sure mother would think of it as healthy.
I've been busy and fall into deep, silent sleep every night, no longer floating in blue. Lillie, realizing I've given little effort to my job search, made the offer to switch from a monetary form of rent to one where I pay with labor instead. She needed it and, I'm going to admit it, I do too as I have no money at the moment. That's my rather pitiful excuse for leaving you to your blank pages.
I dusted the piano, studying the keys and wondering how deep Lillie's sleep was. I sat down, finding the gleaming coffee table and partially dusted piano enough. I pulled the paper filled with staff lines and notes out of my pocket and began to play, using the pedal liberally to reach all of the notes. Though, with both of my hands, before the war, I had studied classical music, I was leaning towards the more modern ragtime with this piece. It was challenging, and I was up for the challenge.
I quickly got lost in the world of sharps and flats and corrections of ill advised notes. I didn't hear the door open or notice the small child at my arm until I heard a hushed, “Wow.” Then I jumped, scaring the little guy.
He held up his hands. “Sorry. It's just Miss Lillie always lets us come in whenever, and I heard you playing, and it's great, and-wow- you don't have an arm. How-” He looked away bashfully. “Can you teach me?” he whispered.
I stared for a moment as I was prone to do in situations of surprise. “I- ah- sure.” I moved over on the bench and patted the wood beside me in invitation. “I'll do even better and teach you how to play with both hands.”
I don't know how long I spent with the kid going over the various notes, playing scales, creating a simple song at one point. When his mother came by in a tizzy, I realized I'd taken an hour out of this boy's day. I apologized and returned the boy with a smile, complimenting her on his good manners.
When I turned around, Lillie was leaning on her doorway, smiling at me. “You're good.”
I shrugged and said softly, “Used to be.”
“No.” She studied my music and shook her head. “You're still good. The way you were with Christopher, the way you simplified it all, the way you wrote this.” She sat and attempted to play the first few measures. “I mean, this is phenomenal.”
I scratched my jaw and shrugged again. “Thank you.”
“I'm going to assume that's for letting you stay in my place despite your lack of money and your alcoholic tendency.” A gleam of mocking, friendly mocking though a little uncomfortable, shone in her eyes, and she laughed at my pinks cheeks. “I apologize. It's been a while since I've said anything quite so... corrosive.”
I smiled and replied, “I deserve it. Luckily, that's behind me.” I picked up the dust rag and returned to my chore as I studied her face as it grew quite serious.
“Good for you,” she murmured and stood as Thomas started to cry.
I wonder now what makes her act like that, what makes her sigh and get all serious when she was playing around just a moment before. I don't know much except that I'm ready for some shut eye.
July 20 4pm
Boarding House
Blue is the color of bruises and meaningless violence, of anger with no reason and silent, helpless victims.
Lillie's mother stopped by at noon to take Lillie shopping for clothing and to fawn over her grandson. Mrs. Fite is a sweet woman, proud and nostalgic for the past. If you don't feel like conversation, get her started on a story of Lillie as a child or her late husband. She's not very loving of her daughter, however. She's quite critical of almost everything Lillie does.
She patted my knee and smiled sweetly as Lillie left to get the sandwiches. I held Thomas, murmuring at him when he opened his eyes sleepily every now and then.
“I don't mean to be harsh with her.”
I just looked at her, not expressing my lack or abundance of belief.
“I pushed her to marry Jim.” She stroked Thomas' face lovingly. “That was a mistake, but I can't...” She sighed. “I can't apologize now.”
“Jim's her husband?”
She frowned and studied me carefully. “Yes.”
“And why would you apologize?” I asked, bouncing a quickly waking Thomas as he cooed happily.
Mrs. Fite hesitated and said slowly, “Lillie hasn't told you.”
“Told me what?” I inquired.
As Lillie came back, Mrs. Fite leaned forward and whispered quickly, “He beat her.” She returned to her original position and barely glanced at the sandwiches. “The bread looks a bit soggy, dear. Did you prepare these beforehand?”
My mind whirled. I studied Lillie, finding her behavior, her lifestyle even more astounding, even more admirable.
Thomas was passed around, so I could eat a very good sandwich, and conversation turned to something of no true interest.
How anyone could hurt one as kind as Lillie is beyond me.
June 21 12:45 am
Beach
Blue is unexpected beauty.
When Mrs. Fite left with a new hat as soon as their shopping expedition was over, I watched Lillie fall back into the couch, smiling at me tiredly. “That woman drives me crazy.”
“She loves you though.” I hummed softly as Thomas yawned.
We had become great buddies during the month. He was a Mama's boy, but he didn't mind being held by myself as long as he wasn't too cranky.
Leaning forward to stroke her child's face in a way similar to her mother's with her first two fingers, she scoffed. “Don't make me laugh.”
I smiled silently, unwilling to argue. “What'd you get?”
She broke into a grin, seemingly waking up at the mention of her loot. “You and the others found some food for dinner?”
“Yes, ma'am.” Miriam and Peter had retired early, probably to one room if the discreet whispers in each others ears and the giggles revealed anything of the matter.
“They're together now, I suppose.”
I laughed. “Probably.”
She shook her head. “I'm looking the other way for now. They deserve each other.” She stood taking Thomas from me gently, whispering softly as the child whimpered in his sleep. “I'll show off some of my clothes.”
As she put Thomas to bed and put on her dress, a light rain began at the window
She opened the door a crack. “I'm not sure about this. Mother talked me into it, bought it for me even. I have no clue where I could ever wear this.”
“Well come show me, and I'll think of something.” I was chuckling to myself, watching the rain slide down the window, when she cleared her throat. I looked at her and found myself speechless.
Blue fabric floated around her, reflecting the lamp light. She had her hair down, flowing to her shoulders. A pleased smile fluttered at her lips as her hands played nervously with the satin skirt.
“What do you think?”
I stood and approached her, my mouth opening and closing stupidly. “I... Wow.”
Her face glowed. “My figure's not what it used to be.”
“No, no, no. It's perfect.” I stopped in front of her, dangerously close, alarm bells going off in my head.
Her blue eyes, everything but cold, were big and, at that moment, scared.
She took a step back, and I did the same, taking a deep breath. I looked her over again and hesitated at a thick, jagged scar, flirting with the sleeve barely covering the edge of the shoulder.
“Do you want to know how I know your mom loves you?”
She nodded distractedly, looking away from me.
“Because she's sorry about you and Jim. Because she hasn't said anything about how you don't have any pictures of him anywhere in this house, how you don't have your ring on your person. She hates him enough not to badger you about him because she's the only one that can push her baby around.” I took a step forward and shrugged my shoulders at her angry expression. “She told me.”
She covered her scar with her hand. “That's my business. How dare she tell you.”
“She likes me.”
Lillie frowned at me, her fingers white as she squeezed her arm, as if to erase her past. “She liked Jim too.”
I blinked. “What are you saying?” I knew I should have stopped, should have walked off because it was her business, because I was starting to think maybe Thomas could become my boy, that I would cherish Lillie. A month in one house together all day is a long time to become fond of someone.
“I'm saying you may be no better than Jim,” she replied coldly and turned from me. She flinched when I grabbed her shoulder, and I let go immediately at the movement. “Go try to find a real job tomorrow, Ben,” she spat and fled to her room.
I've backed myself into a corner. Somehow, I've fallen in love with my landlady whose too strong to admit she's lonely when the house empties out for the day. I'm going to sell some of my songs and get out of here as fast as I can, so I can stop hurting myself at the sight of her.
August 3 1am
Beach
Blue is depression.
Sold first song today to some agent for an artist of some sort. I wrote it for Lillie. Can't quite make myself move out yet. Probably will next week sometime. Been skipping meals served at house and not sleeping well at all. I leave before anyone's up or don't leave at all and come back late at night after long walks all over Charleston. The sooner I'm out the better, or I may go back to drinking. Dreams have come back.
August 10 Noon
Beach
Blue is color of irony.
Lillie had to leave the room when the colonel and Miriam asked for a room together. They're getting married in a month at the courthouse. Poor Miriam's confused. The colonel insisted I begin calling him his title again. I think I'm moving back home. Bought tickets yesterday.
August 11 Late
Beach
Blue is the color of death.
Sold tickets to old lady going to grandson's funeral. I'm afraid, I still have a heart.
August 30 4pm
Boarding House
Blue is the color of worry.
Miriam asked me to watch Thomas as Lillie asked her because she and the colonel had some business to take care of that Saturday. Lillie was going to the store or something.
I love that little boy. I made a mistake somewhere when I accidentally bonded. When he woke, I carried him around, just talking to him as if actually understood. I talked as I fed him and as I cleaned halfheartedly. I was rocking him to sleep when Miriam and the colonel walked in around lunch.
Thomas is asleep. Miriam is wringing her hands worriedly. The colonel is pacing. I'm going out to find Lillie who has yet to come back.
August 31 Noon
Boarding House
Blue is the color of a new day, a new beginning.
I went all over Charleston. I went to every church, to every acquaintance’s home, to the market. It was eleven before I went to the beach in desperation. Lillie had no connection with the beach, but I did, so it was the first place I would go in a time of distress.
The first thing I saw was a figure in blue, her hair blowing in the breeze off of the ocean. I breathed a sigh of relief, and walked much faster than I would like to admit. “You've scared us to death, Lillie.”
She looked up at me but made no effort to stand. “The beach seems to work for you. You're pretty indifferent toward this whole mess.”
I sat beside her. “Is that it?”
“I really hate you, Ben.” She rested her head against my shoulder and sighed softly.
Chuckling, I whispered, “I'm not indifferent.”
“I know.” She closed her eyes. “Just like I know you're not like Jim, and I've basically abandoned my baby.”
I drew her to me. “I wouldn't call it abandonment quite yet, darling. You are coming home.”
“I saw your ticket. When are you leaving?” She looked like a little girl with some sand in her hair.
I sighed. “Let's go home.”
“That soon?” She studied my face as I helped her stand. “You're leaving tomorrow?”
Smiling, I shook my head. “I don't have it.” I took her arm and led her home, hushing any more questions.
At the house, the colonel and Miriam left for bed, looking very relieved. I helped Lillie out of the dress and slipped her night gown over her under garments.
“Stay,” she murmured as I pulled the sheets up to her chin.
“Alright.” I pulled off my shoes and laid on top of the sheets. “I'll stay for a little while.”
“I mean stay forever.” She looked up at me in the dark.
“Alright,” I replied slowly. “I'll do that instead.
She moved close to me and fell asleep quickly. I followed close behind.
July 14, 1943 2pm
The Beach
The blue sky stretches above us, and I watch the toddling Thomas carefully as I stare at yet another blank page. Lillie, who is now wearing my ring and carrying my child, takes a sandwich and tears a corner off of it,eating it slowly. I smile and lie down beside her, staring at the sky.
The wind comes off the ocean gently, and Thomas' gibberish sounds to my left as I stretch my arm out to him. Peace and happiness comes over me. I'm floating in the blue. I pull Thomas to me and kiss his cheek. “Lillie,” I whisper softly, ruffling the boy's hair fondly.
“Hmm?” she sighed in a doze.
I take my hand away from Thomas' head and pat her stomach. “Thank you.”
I really really enjoyed it. I loved how the way you used blue became more focussed towards the end, it really reflected what you were writing about well. I found no flaws with how your characters were portrayed and there were so many beautiful descriptions! You developed the relationship between Ben and Lillie really well - I find that this is something very difficult to rush or get wrong in short prose pieces.
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