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“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Mom?”
The girl smiled as her pen moved down in gentle strokes. It was a little too late to be writing a letter, but with her new job, her sickly father, and a rent that needs to be settled, Ivy couldn’t make much time for anything at all. Her mother was away serving the Ferngill Republic, and the sound of the pen tip scratching against paper was the most she could get for comfort right now.
“I hope you’re doing alright. I heard about how tough the battle’s been getting. Stay safe and take care, okay?”
Her eyelashes were wet. She tried blinking tears away, but they were simply caught between her eyelids and stayed as she inhaled. She’ll change the topic, she thought. She could imagine how her mother would cry as well.
“By the way, I’m working under Joja now. I remember what you said about them, but Dad’s illness is getting worse. This is for him.”
She glanced out the window, the late-night sky acting as her companion for the moment. It was likely cloudy, as she saw no glimmer of stars in the darkness.
“My co-workers are tolerable, to my surprise. I thought they’d be a lot meaner, but that’s just my boss.”
Ivy giggled to herself. Not so much out of happiness, nor was she really entertained by anything; it just so happens that she liked to laugh when she was stressed. The girl let out a sigh, running a hand through her ashy brown hair. She clicked her pen again, and again, and again. She was known to be rather chatty, but the silence of her room had found its way into her veins. Even her mind was quiet, taking in the cold breeze from her window.
“I miss you, Mom.”
~~~
“We are very sorry for your loss.”
Ivy felt as if she had just been stoned to death. No—it hurt from the inside. It felt more like the words were tearing her open, clawing at her flesh and breaking out of her skin.
“Lieutenant Cassidy has died of a gunshot during service.”
As she cried, sobbed, tore against the edges of her bedsheets, her father stared straight across the room. He said not a word, he didn’t move, not even twitch. His eyes simply longed from his bed, watching the still image of his wife that was kept within a bronze picture frame.
His surgery was a success, but he felt like something was missing. Like an organ had been ripped out of his ribcage and was never put back inside. He would never function the same way.
Ivy’s mournful sobs turned into scorn, tearing at the piece of paper that dared to enter their small, unkept home. The beige-colored envelope that came along with it carried a blue seashell, stopping Ivy’s assault against the material. When the azure color glinted, she saw tears in her father’s eyes. He gave that to her mother long ago, when they were young and untouched by hardships. The young woman’s angry screams softened, muffling herself against her father’s shoulders.
~~~
That was one way serving time in the military was difficult. Many prayed to live, and so did Kent; but for each day you live is a day you see another fall. Some bodies couldn’t even return home for a proper burial. Kent recalls the trenches and the bodies that fell into them. They had the expressions of fear, hidden behind a false sense of pride. He looked down at his hands, the hands that shakily grabbed his allies; the hands that refused to believe the death in front of him. His fingers ran across the woman’s face, mud and soot staining her feminine features as he did so. In her chest pocket was her pendant, tied with a thin string to a picture of a little girl.
Kent knew that a daughter had lost her mother. That a husband had lost his wife. He saw himself in this woman; dead, lifeless, unmoving. The sound of his scream was unheard amidst the enemy fire that rained on their camp.
~~~
“Please respond to this letter immediately, Colonel. Otherwise, I will be taking legal action against you and the Ferngill military.”
It wasn’t uncommon for family members to be upset, but this was a first for Kent. It was normal for soldiers to come and go, to lose their life to the enemy, and was no case for negligence or malpractice. He knew the young lady—Ivy Cassidy, as signed, had no grounds for her case.
Yet he remembers. He remembers that picture in the Lieutenant’s pocket. He remembers her as a strong woman, a kind mother, always writing back to her family. He felt Ivy’s presence, back when he read the first letter she sent. The letter that she meant to send to a family member. Suddenly, he’s reminded of his own, and how failed of a father he truly was. He’s written back to Jodi maybe once or twice, yet who knows whether his sons were aware of that. And here he was, witnessing a daughter so affected by the loss of her mother. He wondered if his own family would feel the same. If they’d mourn the stranger they knew as their father and husband.
“I understand your concern, Miss Cassidy. However, it is of my displeasure to remind you of the horrors of war.”
He wrote back a response, knowing the girl would be restless if he didn’t. He wrote the letter not as the Corporal, but just a soldier named Kent, one who feared death and the outcome of the war. One who wanted nothing more than to leave the hellish battlefield that kept him stranded.
~~~
“Excuse my colloquial response,”
Wrote the Corporal, who Ivy now knew as Kent.
“But please do remember—for your sake, and for the sake of your parents, to not let grief overcome you.”
What an asshole, she thought. He didn’t even bring up her threat of filing a case. It was more than a week since she sent that letter, and during the days she spent waiting for a response, she rolled around the couch regretting her decision made in the spur of the moment. Her rather quail attempts at a threat were a bluff that anyone could see through. Did she really think she could fool him? Even if she did, what would she have expected as a response from him?
There she was at work, typing away as a computer screen fries her amber-colored eyes. The words she was typing looked blurry, but she rubbed them repeatedly until she could see again. Tears trailed her cheeks, but she promised herself she’d dive into work with no distractions. Two of her fingers were twitching, and she cussed softly as she fixed typos that she had been making along the way.
“I know how it feels, Ms. Cassidy. I watch my friends die every day I serve. However, I must continue to live and work through this battlefield. You are in no midst of gunfire, but you must fight your own battles as well. If you are in any likeness of your mother, then I know your strength.
You can overcome this.”
She couldn’t focus. Ivy decided to put the blame on the Corporal, as his words rang in her head. She needed those words. She knew how much she needed anyone to say those words to her. They were there in that letter, written by a man who lived while her mother died. A man who might die the same way her mother did. A man respectful enough to give her gentle words written in ink. For the few seconds she read those words of comfort, he felt like an old friend.
Ivy wanted to smash her head on the table, cover herself with her arms and cry for the rest of her work hours. She wanted to, she really did, but all she did was freeze up in her office chair and stare in silence. There were tears in her eyes, but they didn’t fall. She refused to hear anything but silence, even as the manager came up to her dusty cubicle and began to scold her.
She didn’t hear anything, not even when she was forced to stand and explain why she wasn’t working. She didn’t hear anything, even when he threatened to fire her and give some other lowlife her position. She could only hear the cold hush as she walked out of the blinding office, once again jobless.
~~~
“I’m sorry, Corporal, for my outburst. And, thank you. For your kind words.”
That’s what was written in her final letter. Those were the last words he read before he headed back into open fields, the sound of gunshots erupting from both sides.
“One day, I hope you return home safe and sound.”
Kent couldn’t understand why, but he swore he heard her voice. He’s never met her and has never even seen her personally, but he heard a gentle voice spoken through a soft smile. Her face was a blur, but he could see her. He looked further, and his family stood behind the figure.
His little Vincent, with eyes sparkling with hope that he’d return. Kent knew he’d disappoint his son, knowing he wasn’t the same as before. There stood Sam, tall and bright, with the personality of a dozen suns. Would he still smile if he saw him? If he suddenly returned to their home? And there was Jodi—oh, his dear wife, Jodi. What would she say? How would she feel knowing he’d left them? He’d left her? He’d left his family to fend for themselves in some small town near the beach, on opposite ends of one ocean whose waves washed over bloody plains. Even worse—what if she knew of these letters? Of the words written by a young lady who was likely the same age as his son? What would she do if she knew how much comfort he received from her letters?
A bullet lodged through his shoulder, pushing him back onto the wet dirt. What was he doing?
~~~
The Corporal never wrote back to her. Ivy was in a worry, for multiple reasons. There was her father, whose physical health improved since his surgery, but the trauma of losing the love of his life weight down on him. It didn’t seem much different from when he was bedridden. There was Ivy herself, struggling to find a job, one that was enough to provide for her and her dad. No Joja company would take her in, especially after hearing about how her termination happened. There weren’t many options, as the city she lived in was already plastered with Joja-run companies here and there.
And then there was Kent. She never stopped thinking about him. She’d heard of how many soldiers were caught and detained in the Gotoro empire. Could the Corporal be there as well?
No, no. Think positive, Ivy.
Perhaps he didn’t write back because he didn’t need to. Her letter was pretty much the end of their exchange. After all, what could he write back after she had already thanked him? Yes, that seemed the most plausible. Still… her uneasiness could not stop wrapping her heart up in a frenzy. She tried to not think about it, but she kept Kent’s letters, even dusting her drawers to make room for them. They lay neatly folded beside where she kept her mother’s mermaid pendant. If her mother were alive, she would have asked questions. What was the Corporal's personality? What did he look like? Were they good friends?
Now’s not the time, Ivy.
The back of her hand brushed the letters to the side of the drawer, her delicate fingers tracing over another letter, looking much more aged than the one she had been receiving from Kent. One written by her grandfather long ago.
She had read it a few years back, right after realizing that her freelance work wouldn’t be enough for them. She somewhat despised her grandfather in his grave, for leaving her a farm to tend to in some village in the province. Ignoring the difficulties of starting a farm, Ivy was very much a city girl. She did well with computers and cars, taking buses to tall, corporate buildings. Ivy was never one with the soil and the dirt, much more with animals that rolled by a worn wooden fence. But she was desperate enough this time. Her mild annoyance turned to gratefulness when she realized that her grandfather didn’t mean to send her off to such a place for no reason.
He wanted to give her a second chance at having a better life.
~~~
“Have you met the new farmer, dear?”
Jodi turned to Kent, who silently sat at the dinner table. She had to bring in a new chair, as originally there were only three. Kent always felt like a tramp since the past midnight he arrived, but seeing his wife pull over a new chair for him to have a place at the dinner table? It made him feel like an exile. Did he still belong in this family after he’s been gone for so long?
“Not yet. I took a walk in the forest.”
He shook his head, his gaze scratching the tiled floor. He couldn’t look Jodi in the eye, and neither did she. He could only assume why. His absence in their children’s life being one, the next being the incident that happened when he arrived.
Something switched in him when he heard the popcorn. There was quick flash, and he saw blood. He saw dirt the color of coal. Next he knew, he had raised his voice at his wife, and she stared in shock as a tear trickled down her soft cheek. That night when they both went to bed; they couldn’t even face each other. Kent could never sleep properly, anyway. He apologized after what he did, and apologized yet again right before Jodi drifted off to dream. He bent down to kiss her forehead, pushing away strands of hair, but she flinched under his touch. He swore he heard her whimper as he kissed her.
He was not the same as before. The sweet smile Jodi gave him this morning pained him. It was more painful than the bullet that nearly killed him that day.
“Maybe I’ll go meet her. Should I bring a gift?”
Jodi smiled again, shaking her head as Vincent entered the kitchen. He was greeted with a hug, and Kent wrapped his strong arms around his small son. He couldn’t bring himself to smile back at either of them.
~~~
It was not even seven in the morning, and there was already a knock on her front door. Ivy groaned, groggily rolling off her bed. Her dog ran up, barking at the door rather excitedly. Ivy yelled out, ‘I’m coming!’ and hoped that whoever was outside was patient. She looked like a mess. She was in the mines the whole night, digging against rocks and fighting whatever creatures lurked in the darkness. She nearly collapsed on the way home. Thankfully, Abigail was playing her flute nearby, somehow not yet tired, and assisted the city girl-turned-farmer back home. She’d have to thank her later, maybe give her one of the amethysts she found.
Ivy put a shirt over her pajamas, hoping to be just a bit more presentable. There was no time to freshen up when there was someone outside. Her hand grabbed the door knob, lazily turning it until it opened.
“Um… hi.”
The man spoke. He was tall, covered up but she could assume his strong build anyway. His face was a little rugged; strong and masculine, with some stubble decorating his hard jawline. Narrow, tired eyes stared back at her, looking a little nervous, if she was interpreting them correctly.
“You’re the new farmer, right? I came back yesterday from overseas, and my wife said I should introduce myself.”
Ivy held back her yawn. Aside from the man’s rugged good look, the manner in which he spoke had tickled her brain in a certain way. Ivy nodded, standing in the doorway as she looked up at him. He was a bit too tall for her.
“Yes, that’s me. I’m Ivy. Ivy Cassidy.”
She watched his eyes widen; the dark shadow that overlay them disappeared for a moment. His lips parted in shock, and his brows furrowed upwards as he listened to her voice. He knew that name. He mouthed something that she couldn’t understand. Ivy tilted her head, his new expression throwing her off a bit. She asked if he was okay, or if there was anything he needed. But then she glanced to his bicep, where his sleeve was decorated with chevrons.
He was a Corporal.
Ivy felt something heavy in her heart as she slowly looked back up to him, her eyes shining with sudden tears. She looked at him as if he weren’t real, her hand reaching out to touch his chest.
“I’m Kent.”