Back to Yesterday

by Pamela Sparkman

  I planted my face in my father’s chest and held on because I was so conflicted. “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”

  He was quiet while he stroked my hair. “When you take the time to listen with your heart instead of your ears, it’s amazing what you can learn. And in case you’re wondering, Charlie’s train leaves at seven in the morning. What you do with that information is up to you.” He put something cold and metal in my hands. Keys. “Charlie walked home from here. He left his truck for you. He said he wanted you to have it.”

  He kissed the top of my head and headed for the door. “If you love Charlie and you never let him know, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. I never want to see you holding onto regret the way you held on to that doll.”

  With that, he closed the door.

  In the quiet of my room, I sat on the edge of my bed and took in a long, slow breath, the doll still firmly in my grasp.

  Listen with your heart.

  I closed my eyes, silenced my mind, and gave my heart permission to be heard.

  ~ Kodaline

  High Hopes

  Seven a.m. I had told Sophie’s father that I would be at the train station this morning hoping she would be here to see me off.

  She wasn’t.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. I picked up my bag, slung it over my shoulder with a heavy heart, pushed through the mass of people, and held back the tears that threatened to spill.

  Before boarding the train, I looked over my shoulder one last time.

  She really wasn’t coming.

  One tear slid down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, stepped onto the train, and found my seat.

  Another tear fell.

  Then another.

  I’m sorry, Sophie. I’m so sorry.

  Hiding my face from everyone around me, I leaned forward, and with elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, I cried like my soul had been set on fire. I hurt everywhere a human being could possibly hurt. My bones shook with sorrow.

  I’m sorry, Sophie. Can you feel how sorry I am?

  I begged God to speak to her heart on my behalf.

  Please let her know how much I love her.

  “Charlie?”

  I raised my head, looked around, and wiped at my tears. People were staring out the right side of the train.

  “Charlie!”

  I bolted from my seat and had my head out the window across from me before anyone had time to blink. “Sophie!”

  “Charlie!” She looked around frantically. “Charlie, I’m here! Where are you?”

  Somehow I had managed to slide my upper body outside the train car window. “Over here!” I yelled through the crowd of onlookers. “I’m over here!”

  Spinning around, she finally spotted me. That was the moment the train started to move.

  “Charlie!” She ran towards me, people creating space for her, but I was being pulled away from her.

  “Sophie!”

  She ran faster, arms extended out in front her, an envelope in her hand. “Take the letter, Charlie!”

  I reached as far as I could and somehow managed to grab hold of it. The minute I took possession of the envelope, Sophie slowed down and then she stopped running altogether. She bent at the waist, covered her face with both hands, her shoulders bobbing up and down as she cried.

  “I love you!” I shouted.

  “Sir, get back inside the car,” the conductor said.

  I pulled my body back inside the train, still keeping my eyes on Sophie until she disappeared from my view. Applause broke out when I reclaimed my seat and a few of the guys slapped my back like I had won a medal.

  Perhaps I had. I wouldn’t know until I read what she wrote. However, I was apprehensive. What if this was her way of telling me goodbye forever?

  Biting the inside of my cheek and with shaky hands, I opened the envelope, pulled out the letter, and held my breath.

  Dear Charlie,

  They say there’s a turning point in everyone’s life. A moment that alters the way we live our lives, or more accurately, a series of moments. A moment like that began for me the night after our second date. It all started when I opened my journal to read the last thing I had written. The events that immediately followed would pick the scab of an old wound, one that never seemed to heal. But it was on this night that my life would start down a new path, a road of personal growth and healing. A road that would ultimately lead me to discover what had been holding me back from admitting my feelings for you. It didn’t happen overnight, of course. Life is a journey and some journeys take longer than others. But if you let me explain, I promise that I will make it up to you.

  Some day.

  Somehow.

  Until then, I’ll wait. For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.

  I’ll wait because I think I have been waiting my whole life for you. I realized that tonight after you made me watch you leave. I never want to watch you leave again. But I’m watching you leave again now, aren’t I? And it hurts, Charlie. It hurts so much.

  Why do we have to lose something before we appreciate its value?

  I’ll contemplate that later, though, because I don’t have much time. You see, I have to meet you at the train station soon. You’re going to war and you made a promise that you’d come back. I’m going to hold you to that, Charlie. You said you would never lie to me. So you have to keep this promise. I’ll never forgive you if you break it.

  I’m writing all this down because I’m afraid that I won’t have time to tell you everything before you go. This way, you can read it and really let it soak into your heart. Having said that, I want you to really listen to what I’m about to say and if you don’t remember anything else – remember this…

  You were right. I was wrong. I’ve never been more wrong in my life.

  There – I said it.

  I’ll say it a million times if you just come back to me.

  Come back to me. Please!

  I was so wrong. I do love you.

  Did you get that? I love you.

  I love you – I love you – I love you.

  When you’re done saving the world, I’ll be here. This is my promise to you.

  All my love,

  Sophie

  I caressed her words with my fingertips and then tucked her letter away inside my coat pocket closest to my heart. Then I let myself breathe.

  Because Sophie and I, we were going to be okay.

  We were going to be okay.

  Levi waved his hand in front of my face. “Did you hear me?”

  I blinked and tried to focus on my friend. My mind had traveled back to yesterday yet again because I missed my Sophie so much. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said by this time tomorrow you’ll be in the air, my friend.” He slapped me on the back. “We did good work, yes?”

  I took stock of all of the repairs we’d made. The propellers were as straight as we were going to get them, the fuel line fixed, and the oil cooler cleaned out. She was ready to fly.

  I hoped.

  “Yes, we did good work.” I offered a brave smile. It was three in the morning and I needed to get a couple hours sleep. We had all worked tirelessly to get the plane in working order and exhaustion now took center stage.

  We walked side by side to the house. Maikel had turned in hours ago. When he fell asleep propped against the side of the plane, Levi had sent him to bed. Maikel had tried to argue, but his father put his foot down. The poor kid was afraid I would leave without saying goodbye.

  I wouldn’t do that. I’m very careful with my goodbyes now. I, at least, learn from my mistakes and strive never to repeat them. Before Maikel went to bed I promised that I would be here when he woke up.

  In a few short hours, and with any luck, I’ll be on my way to England. One step closer to Sophie.

  God willing.

  By dawn, Maikel was up and had already made breakfast. The three of us sat down together and ate, although the atmosphere was q
uiescent. This was our last meal together and none of us had any words for the occasion.

  The sounds of butter being spread across dry toast, forks clinking on plates, sips and slurps from metal mugs, and crunching and chewing echoed around the room. We kept our eyes on our food and only looked up when we took a drink. In those few seconds, our eyes would float upwards, catching the eyes of the person across from us, never for long. Our eyes would quickly drift back to the eggs on our plate. Emotions, questions, and uncertainties were prevalent in our reflections and none of us were equipped at dealing with those things so early in the morning. We chose stoicism and quiet reserve with our breakfast.

  When we were finished, we all got up, cleared the dishes, and I went to collect the few things I had. I folded Levi’s clothes and left them on the bed. Levi and Maikel were already outside waiting for me, and when I approached them wearing my flight suit, the realization that today was the day I would be leaving hit home. They wore identical sad smiles.

  I stood before them and prepared myself for final words.

  Final words. How do you prepare yourself for words that are final?

  Inhaling a cleansing breath, I said, “I want to thank you both. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, you saved my life.”

  Levi held up his hand. “We only did what you would have done, Charles. No need to thank us.”

  “My parents raised me to give thanks and so I will. I will never forget either of you.” I looked down at the boy, his brown eyes glistening. Kneeling down in front of him, I held out my arms for a hug. He attached himself to me, his tears falling and landing on my shoulder.

  “Will I ever see you again?” he asked.

  “I sure hope so.”

  “I overheard you and Papa talking about fuel and that you may not have enough to make it all the way to Oxford. Is that true?”

  I closed my eyes wishing Maikel hadn’t heard that. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Your father and I were just thinking out loud and listing possible scenarios. Don’t worry. I’ve survived worse things than running out of fuel.” I laughed, hoping to ease his concerns. The truth was it was a very real possibility, but there were other variables I was more concerned with than fuel. Not wanting to revisit those scenarios, I stood back up and said goodbye to Levi.

  “I’ll always consider you my friend, Levi. Thank you again for everything.”

  Levi’s strict stoicism faded, his voice wobbling when he said, “Friends, yes, always friends.” We hugged and I climbed inside the plane.

  I made all of my preparations and promptly started the engine. Exhaust sputtered out as the propellers spun to life and her noisy idle put a smile on my face. Man, I had missed that beautiful sound. Though, the vibration I had feared stole the smile I wore. I gritted my teeth and swore, the noise of the engine drowning out my words.

  Damn it – damn it – DAMN IT!

  I was at the crossroads. Take the chance to fly and risk being shook out of the sky, or stay grounded and risk the Nazis finding me here, which would endanger the lives of Levi and Maikel.

  I wouldn’t risk their lives so I would risk mine instead.

  I looked over and saw the smile on Maikel’s face. He had told me one evening that when he grew up he wanted to be a pilot just like me. I hoped that he would never have to fight in a war, although I did want him to get his wish to fly. I gave him a thumbs-up, not letting on that I was in grave danger, and moved forward a few feet, turned her around to face the other direction, and ran up the engine. The vibration shook me so hard my teeth clanked together. I waved to my friends one last time.

  I drew in a breath, held it a few seconds before releasing it, and once again I prayed.

  Lord, if You’re listening, please help me get home.

  I moved forward, accelerating quickly, bumping along Levi’s field until the tail lifted and the bumping was replaced by the feel of air underneath.

  Flying once again.

  Only this time…I, Charles Edward Hudson, who’d never feared flying before, was afraid to fly this plane.

  ~ Natalie Taylor

  Come to This

  The first night after Charlie left, I’d curled into a fetal position on my bed, crying in sobs that broke, rattled, and shook, letting out the desperation I’d felt, my mind imagining the worst.

  War.

  Charlie was going back to war.

  The unthinkable could happen and the thought became more than a thought. It became this tangible thing that I could taste on my tongue, burning my throat, souring my stomach, forcing bile to surge upward until I was running to the bathroom. I dropped to my knees and bent my head over the toilet. I heaved and heaved and heaved. But the thought remained. It clung to me like static. No matter how many times I tried to flick it off it stayed. No matter how many times I tried to extract it from my body it lingered.

  Soft hands brushed back my hair and my mother held me while I begged for this to all be over.

  “I want him to come b-back!” I cried.

  “I know, dear. I know. Have faith in him, my love. He’ll be back.”

  I whispered prayers for Charlie’s safety and I clung to hope and wished on stars. Grieving like a widow, I begged for God to bring him back to me and pleaded like a child that He would grant me this one request.

  For hours I did this, lying on the bathroom floor, begging, asking, hoping, and praying. I was cut open, deep, down to the bone, and the unthinkable thought was the salt in my wounds that made my flesh burn and my soul howl in agony.

  The next day I forced myself to get up and walk to work. Every step felt like a mammoth climb uphill, and by the time I made it to the café, I stood in the doorway, achy and sore and fighting to breathe. The bell above the door jingled and every eye looked my way. It was unusually crowded for this time of day. I had hoped for a moment to pull myself together before facing the world but there would be no such moment for me.

  Standing at the entrance, I was hungry for air that was too heavy and too thick, like trying to breathe through a straw. I reached for the back of an empty booth and leaned into it.

  “Sophie,” Elizabeth said, clutching my face. “Breathe, sweetie. You need to breathe.”

  “It hurts.”

  “What hurts? Tell me.”

  “I hurt.”

  I couldn’t survive this. War was the unknown and the unknown was a gaping hole of nothingness. I couldn’t see my future. I couldn’t even see five minutes in front of me. I knew nothing. All I knew was that Charlie was my life and my life was somewhere unknown, across the ocean, on another continent, and I was here, fighting to breathe without him.

  Then someone touched my shoulder and placed an envelope in my hand. For a long minute I stared at it, trying to dissect what I was holding. Nothing made sense to me. Then another letter was slipped into my hand. Customers of mine that I saw on a daily basis were lining up in front of me. Each time they gave me their letter, they would kiss my cheek and say, “From Charlie.” They all had the same story. Charlie wrote this for you and asked that I deliver it today.

  I stumbled into an empty seat, a quivering pile of bones and not much else. I looked down at my hands. Fifteen letters were given to me by fifteen customers. I set them all on the table, trying to come to process it.

  Elizabeth sat across from me, her voice a velvet blanket, soothing and comforting. “Charlie wanted you to read this one first.” She placed another letter in my hands. I didn’t hesitate to open it. I ran my finger underneath the lip, lifting the seal, and prepared myself for what he had to say.

  Dear Sophie,

  The very first day we met, I went home and wrote you a letter. There was so much stuff swimming around in my head that I had to get it down on paper. I didn’t want to forget a thing. I put it away in a drawer, and as time went by I wrote more and more. Judging by the stack of letters, I felt a lot and thought a lot.

  I even had to get a bigger drawer.

  In the beginning, the letters were just for me, a c
athartic way to express the fluttering in my soul whenever I was around you.

  Now, I want you to know how much my heart thought of you.

  This is me, Sophie McCormick, completely open, naked, and bare to the bones. You have my thoughts. You have my heart. You have my soul.

  You had me at the beginning.

  And I’ll be yours to the end.

  Charlie

  I folded the letter, held it to my heart, and closed my eyes.

  I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

  A man knelt in front of me, and I had to look away. He looked too much like Charlie and my poor heart crumbled at the sight of him.

  “Sophie, honey,” Elizabeth said. “I’d like for you to meet someone.”

  “Sophie,” the man said, “I’m Charlie’s father and I’m–”

  My hands fell from my face and I dove into him, hugging him tightly, nearly tipping him over on his haunches. He braced himself and hugged me back. He was the closest thing in the whole world to Charlie because they were a part of each other, and I needed to feel the closeness. It should have been awkward, me hugging him this way, but it didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt less debilitating, less stifling to be in his atmosphere.