DUST IN THE WIND
Chapter Twenty-Three
Six months had passed since Jack
went off to war. It had been a hard six months for Rose and the other women of
Chippewa Falls. But fortunately for Rose, Sam had moved back in. Both women
made ends meet by working at the factory and watching each other’s children.
They were two women trying to make the best out of a desperate situation.
It was a lovely day. Bright and
sunny. For the first time in months, Rose was a pretty good mood. The local
theater was holding a small play and Rose had won the lead role. She had just
returned home and was excitedly reciting her lines for Sam when the soldier
arrived. His handsome face was grim, his blue eyes full of cold sympathy.
Rose’s words faded away at his approach. This meant only one thing. Sam and
Rose looked at one another, wondering whose husband was it for. Which one of
them was now a widow?
"Mrs. Rose Dawson," the
man stammered. "Which one of you is Mrs. Rose Dawson?"
Rose’s face drained of color. She
stepped forward, trying to keep herself upright. Fainting would only make
things more awkward. "I am."
"This is for you,
ma’am." The officer tipped his hat and quickly left the porch. He had made
a mistake once of staying longer then he should have, and spent two hours
comforting a new widow. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
"Rose?" Sam looked at
her cousin-in-law with concern. She got to her feet and wrapped an arm around
Rose’s quivering shoulder.
"I--I don’t know if I can do
this, Sam…I can’t…"
"Here." She gently
pulled the envelope out of Rose’s hand. "I’ll read it for you."
Rose only nodded.
"Okay."
Slowly, Sam opened the letter,
dreading to read of Jack’s death. But what she read was so much worse.
"Dear Mrs. Dawson. The United States Government regrets to inform you of
the capture of your husband, Jack Dawson’s, unit. Please believe that we are
doing our best to find him and bring him home." Sam looked up at Rose, her
face also pale.
"No…Jack…" Rose sunk to
the ground below. "Not Jack! Please, not Jack!" How could this
happen? How could the government allow an entire unit to be captured like that?
And Jack…how was he going to survive this? Would he survive? Would she? Knowing
that her beloved husband was in constant danger?
"Well…at least he’s not
dead." Sam forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. This really
scared her. What if George got captured, too?
"As far as we know!"
Rose sobbed. "There’s nothing stopping them from killing him. Nothing at
all."
"Come now, Rose, we can’t
think like that. Jack will come home to you. He will. Alive and as handsome as
ever. It’ll be like he never left."
Rose looked at her friend, tears
still dropping from her eyes. Her hope was at an all time low. "I hope
you’re right, Sam. I hope you’re right."
*****
It was cold and dark where Jack
was. Not colder than the North Atlantic, but cold nonetheless. He groaned as
another pain shot up his arm as the chains rubbed against his wrist. He had no
idea how long he’d been held captive. All he knew was that he was hungry,
filthy, and didn’t know if he’d ever see his family again.
A question was asked of him once
again. A question in a language he didn’t know.
"I--I don’t know," was
all he could answer, knowing and dreading what that answer would earn him. A
scream erupted from his mouth as something burning hot was pressed against his
skin. Not able to take the pain for much longer, Jack lost consciousness,
escaping into dreams of his old life in Chippewa Falls. Dreams of Rose and
Josephine.