There were rumors of war going around – rumors that the Germans were rearming themselves and invading countries. All the adults talked about it, and all the kids would pass on to each other what they heard through their parents’ doors. I couldn’t believe how fast word traveled in East Finchley.
Father and Mother had been talking about it for months, along with the possibility that Father might be called back to serve again in the army, inside the somewhat privacy of their room (it would’ve been private if Eamon and I didn’t listen through the door and the walls). I was scared when I heard the last part; I didn’t want him going to war and possibly dying. What really shook me up was that Eamon talked to me about enlisting if there was a war. Granted, he was eighteen and could enlist if he wanted, but I didn’t want my brother, my protector, to leave me alone.
Father left on New Year’s Eve 1939 to prepare for war – by then Mother and Father had confided to us that war was likely. We all drove down to the train station to see Father off. Mother and I cried, but Eamon stayed strong for us. After hugs and kisses were exchanged, Father boarded the train and quickly found a window.
“Goodbye, my family! I love you! Keep me in your prayers!” he shouted to us.
“We will!” I shouted back.
“Farewell Malcolm! I will await your return!” Mother said melodramatically.
“Bye, Father! I hope to join you soon!” my brother shouted.
We waved to him, and he waved back at us until we couldn’t see him anymore. Then we made our quiet way back home. Mother was depressed the rest of the day, but put on a brave face that lasted until Eamon left.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Eamon left in May of 1940, after the Germans invaded and captured Denmark and Norway*. I was shaken very badly when he left. I returned to my dorm room after seeing him off and felt very alone. I climbed onto my bed, curled up into a ball, and cried my eyes out. Eamon was my only brother, and he would listen to me if I was troubled when no one else would. Now he wouldn’t be here for me, he couldn’t comfort or protect me (though when I thought about it, he was going off to war to protect England and keep me safe). That was the only day I cried outright. When anyone would ask if I was alright—for they all knew that Eamon enlisted, and I had taken it badly—I couldn’t help growing cold because I didn’t want to be reminded that he was gone. I would get nightmares at least two times a week of Eamon dying in battle. Even after I got my first letter from him, the nightmares continued. My friends and teachers tried to comfort me, but they only succeeded in making me want Eamon even more. I would’ve gone to Mother for comfort, but she was so busy with work and keeping the house clean – though I offered to help – that she wouldn’t sit down to have a mother-daughter talk, even if it was over the phone while I was at boarding school.
One night in June, I got sick and tired of listening to the radio about what terrible things were happening in France. So I wrote a letter to Mother, grabbed some things I would need, and waited for her to fall asleep before I headed out. I only wanted to spend a night away, and I told her that in the letter. I also told her where I’d be, to ease her mind somewhat. Turning on the electric torch I had retrieved before leaving, I made my way to the treehouse in our backyard. Eamon built it for me a year ago. It was a place where I would go to be alone.
When I arrived, I felt the most comfort I had in the past couple months, because I could almost feel Eamon’s presence in the treehouse. I spread out the blanket I had brought and lay down to the sounds of nature, hopefully to sleep without nightmares. Before I actually fell asleep, I heard a faint voice say, “And now starts your mission, Annabelle.” Not understanding what the voice meant, I fell asleep carefree.
When I woke I was not in the treehouse I fell asleep in. I was in a cave that opened out to a beach. I heard the sound of seagulls, and waves crashing on the shore. I got up and walked out of the cave to take a look around. The only thing I knew was that I wasn’t in England anymore.