Before the Dawn

37

SAM

June

‘Son. Son. You gettin’ off here, or what?’

A hand landed on my shoulder and I jolted awake with a shout. I’d been lost in a half-waking nightmare about the Nazi camp burning to the ground; there were people trapped inside the tents – hundreds, thousands of them – and somehow, for some reason, Ma and Meggie were among them. I was trying to fight my way in there to save them but kept getting beaten back by the flames.

Slowly, my head cleared, and I realised where I was: sprawled across the seat at the back of a Greyhound bus, the driver standing over me with a frown on his face.

‘Steady now, son, I ain’t gonna hurt you,’ he said. He saw the Purple Heart and Bronze Star pinned to the lapel, and the kitbag I’d been using as a pillow and added, more gently, ‘We’re at Coltonsburg.’

I looked out the window and, in the afternoon sunshine, saw the familiar buildings of the bus station: a place that, at one point, I’d thought I’d never see again.

I thanked the driver and got off the bus. It chugged away, leaving me standing there with my bag at my feet. Although I’d been dozing on and off for the last few hours, I still felt exhausted, and not quite able to believe that, after all these weeks, I was finally here.

Parting from Ruby again had made being yelled at by the sergeant for going AWOL from the hospital a breeze. I couldn’t believe we’d found each other only to be torn apart again. There was nothing I could do about it, though. By the following evening I’d been at sea on a US Navy destroyer filled with sick and injured troops. At the beginning of June, we reached New York, where I was given a medical, and that was it. I was no longer a private in the 116th Infantry Regiment – just ordinary Sam Archer, civilian.

I’d telegraphed Ma before we left England, via Mr Addison, but there had been no way to get a reply at sea, and there had been nothing waiting when we arrived in New York. I’d telegraphed her again anyway, and sent a message to Ruby at the Herald, too, to let her know I was safe.

As I thought about Ma, I felt a wave of apprehension. I’d been away more than two years: had she and Meggie given up on me? Forgotten me? What if Kirk had—

I pushed that thought away. I was pretty good at not thinking about things I didn’t want to think about these days, at least when I was awake.

I thought I’d have to walk all the way back to Kirk’s farm, but I managed to hitch a ride most of the way with a Bible salesman. While we drove, he yammered on at me about God and whatnot. I was so wound up and nervous I felt like asking him where God had been on Omaha Beach that day, or in the prisoner of war camp, or Dresden, but he was twice my size and I needed the ride. I was pretty damn relieved when he dropped me off at the top of the track that led down to the farm, though.

At first, I thought the place had been abandoned. The porch on the main house had all but fallen off, and some of the windows were boarded over. There were weeds everywhere just like there always had been, and Kirk’s truck sat in the middle of the yard, its tyres flat and balding.

Shit, I thought, letting the kitbag slowly slide from my shoulder. Where have they gone? What am I gonna do now?

Then I heard footsteps running from behind the house. Meggie. When she saw me she stopped dead, staring at me with wide eyes. She’d grown like the weeds in the yard since I last saw her. Her hair was longer, tangled, her dress too short, revealing her bruised knees, and her face was smudged with dirt. I waited for her to squeal, ‘Sam!’ and fling herself at me, but she just carried on staring.

‘Hey, Meggie-Meg,’ I said at last, my voice hoarse. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘Where have you been?’ She sounded angry; her sunny, innocent little-kid look had gone. ‘Pa said you ran away – I cried and cried when you didn’t come back.’

‘Aw, no. I didn’t run away. I’ve been in France and England, in the army, fighting Hitler. Didn’t Ma tell you?’ I showed her my medals, and her eyes got very round. She shook her head. ‘Ma said you went away, but she wouldn’t say where,’ she repeated. I realised Ma must have kept the truth from her so she didn’t let it slip to Kirk where I was.

Then she noticed the scars on my hands. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘It’s OK. They look a lot worse than they are.’ Truth was, the scars were starting to pain me. I wanted to get inside and sit down, and wrap a cool, damp washcloth around them.

‘Where’s Ma?’ I asked.

What I really meant was, Where’s Kirk?

She ran up the porch steps, bellowing, ‘Ma! Ma!’ Instinctively, I winced, expecting Kirk to burst out and yell at her for making so much noise. Then I realised that if Meggie was shouting like that, he probably wasn’t around. I followed, more slowly.

I dropped my bag and stuck my head in through the screen door. The house was darker than I remembered; smaller, too. It didn’t smell too good either, like the drains were stopped up. I heard voices approaching, and then Ma came out on the porch. Her dress was even more worn than Meggie’s and there was a fading bruise under one eye. I didn’t ask how she’d got it. Some things never changed, I guessed.

‘Sammy,’ she said in a soft voice. For a moment, I hung back. Then Ma stepped forwards and hugged me. She held me for a long time, like I was a little kid again, when it was just us and she was comforting me when I was sick or I’d had a nightmare.

She let me go. ‘Look at you!’ She was smiling, but there were tears in her eyes. ‘You’re all grown up!’

Ma, you have no idea, I wanted to say. I shrugged. ‘I guess.’

‘Oh, Sammy, I was so worried.’

‘Where’s Kirk?’ I asked, glancing through the doorway again, wondering if he was about to appear.

‘I don’t know. He went out somewhere this morning.’

I felt myself relax, just a little. ‘Didn’t you get my other letters? And the rest of the money I sent you? I know it’s been a while. I couldn’t send anything when I was in the camp, or write. They wouldn’t let me, but—’

‘I… yes.’

Something in her tone made me look more closely at her.

‘Ma? You did get it, didn’t you? A while ago you said Mr Addison was letting you keep it at the store.’

She closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Sam,’ she whispered.

‘Why? What for? What happened?’

‘Kirk found out. He said if I didn’t let him have it, he’d report you to the army for being underage and have you court-martialled and put in jail.’

Anger washed through me in a blinding wave as I thought about all that money I’d saved so carefully; how I’d gone without so I could send a check back home every week.

I turned, scanning the yard. ‘Where is he? Where is that bastard?’

‘Sammy, don’t. It doesn’t matter—’

‘It does matter! That money was for you and Meggie, to put food on the table and clothes on your backs!’

‘We’re OK. There’s plenty to eat—’

I snorted. ‘Don’t lie to me, Ma. Look at you. Look at the state of this place. Meggie looks like she ain’t had a decent meal in weeks. Anyhow, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got plenty more money. I’m getting you and Meggie outta here. Today.’

Ma stared at me. So did Meggie, her arm curled around one of the porch posts.

‘Go pack some things, Ma,’ I urged her. ‘We can leave before he gets back – get a bus to Washington.’

‘Washington?’ She sounded dazed, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

‘Yeah. I’m gonna look for work there. I’m engaged, Ma, to an English girl. Her name’s Ruby. You’d love her. She—’

‘Well, well, ain’t this nice?’ a voice sneered behind us. ‘A real family reunion.’

Ma jumped like a startled rabbit. I turned and my heart sank as I saw Kirk sauntering across the yard, a cigarette dangling from his lower lip.

‘So, you came back at last, boy. Thought you’d gotten yourself killed.’ He eyed my medals. ‘Where’d you steal those from, huh?’

‘They’re mine. I earned them fair and square.’

He snorted.

‘Kirk,’ Ma said softly. He acted as if he hadn’t even heard her.

I gazed at him for a moment, wondering why the hell I’d ever been scared of this pitiful, ugly piece of shit. ‘Where’s my money?’ I said.

‘What money?’

‘Don’t you fucking what money me. The money you stole from me. The money I sent home for Ma.’

‘I’ve no idea what you’re on about,’ he drawled.

‘You bastard.’

‘Kirk. Sammy—’ Ma pleaded behind us.

‘You keep outta this,’ Kirk told her, his head whipping round.

‘Go back inside, Ma,’ I called to her. ‘Take Meggie with you.’

‘Kirk, please—’ Ma said.

‘Get back in the house, you stupid bitch!’ Kirk roared. Ma gave a little gasp of fear, and, scooping up Meggie, retreated inside.

Kirk and I faced each other like a couple of territorial dogs.

‘I want it back,’ I said.

He grinned. ‘Well I ain’t got it no more. What you gonna do ’bout that, huh?’

I launched myself at him with a roar.

We grappled, throwing punches, ducking and wrestling our way across the yard. I landed a hard blow on the side of his chin; Kirk staggered back, but he’d had more than his fair share of barroom brawls and almost immediately he was back on his feet. Before I’d had time to react he’d punched me in the stomach and, as I doubled over, his other fist caught me in the mouth.

I felt my lips smash against my teeth, tasted blood, its coppery stink filling my nostrils, and suddenly I was no longer in the farmyard but back on the beach in France, mortars and bullets whizzing past me, hearing men scream as they died. It was no longer Kirk standing in front of me but a Nazi officer with a swastika on his arm – the one who used to smile as he tore up my letters to Ruby. I grabbed his throat, squeezing, squeezing, until his face turned purple and he was making choked wheezing sounds.

Suddenly, the noises stopped and the officer was a dead weight under my fingers.

When my vision cleared I was back in the farmyard. Kirk was slumped at my feet, face pulpy, eyes swollen shut, blood trickling from one ear.

I could still hear screaming.

It was Ma. She fell to her knees in the dirt beside us. ‘Kirk!’ she sobbed, as Meggie hung back by the porch steps, her eyes huge.

Ma looked up at me. ‘You killed him! You killed him!’

‘No. No.’ I looked round at Meggie. ‘Meg – go back in the house!’

But she stayed where she was, gazing at me with pure terror on her face. It was a look I’d only ever seen her wear around Kirk.

‘Ma.’ I put a hand on her shoulder. She slapped it away and shook Kirk, sobbing. ‘Baby, wake up. Wake up,’ she wailed.

Kirk’s eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t move.

Meggie began to wail too. ‘Pa! Pa!’

I took a step towards her. ‘You get away from her!’ Ma screamed. ‘Get away from her right now before I call the sheriff!’

Realisation hit me like a sniper’s bullet. She ain’t going to leave him, even if he dies. She ain’t going to let Meggie leave either. Everything you’ve done – everything you’ve been through – it was all for nothing.She’s only ever cared about him.

Bile rushed up into my throat. I ran to the corner of the yard and vomited, collapsing to my knees in the mess, my legs no longer able to hold me.