I've Never Lived on the Moon

Chapter 2: So Good That You Came Over Here From There

When we were settled, it felt good to be getting far away from the bump in the road. Our journeys were back on track. I watched the trees pass outside the train. My thoughts came and went with the forests. Each grouping of thick shrubbery held onto the things on my mind. The trees kept my secrets. The rivers we crossed were a pause. I admired their beauty and gave myself a break. The first thing I thought was how big Vivian was. He wasn't tall or even that big around. His presence just swallowed up the whole train car. He held each of us there. Somehow I was able to ignore him and wonder about home. What would I do when I got back? I asked myself that a lot. I just hoped my house and barn were still standing. Having shelter mattered more to me than anything still being alive. I could read Wayland's mind. It was the opposite for him. He could lose everything on his property as long as his family was still alive. That made me respect Wayland even more. I hoped when the train got to Oxbury, we would run off together. I hoped to see him again, for years to come. The one thing that refused to give me peace was how the last two weeks left its impression on me. I had lived 31 years without these new friends. Now that I knew them, I never wanted to go back to the grey life I knew before. Keeping to myself didn't feel so good anymore. Being able to talk about my pain with someone else was a freedom I needed. I looked around the train car at my brothers. It was a lot like when I was first shipped off to Rovaria. I'd glanced at the new soldiers with pity. We didn't know what was coming. It was a collective feeling- fear, looking for distraction, wishing we were anywhere else. I hadn't had the satisfaction of sitting with men on the return home, singing about the war being over, at least for us. I slept on the way back. I was unconscious. Now that I could look at a group of men and see a future that wasn't bleak, a part of my soul began to heal.

It was a long trip. We spent most of it in silence. Wayland stared out the window for hours. Celestine hugged his knees with his eyes low. He cried. Again, no one offered him solace. Evander seemed to want to lean forward and hold Celestine's hand, but the action never came. I wrapped my arm around the sad creature and sheltered him. His world was being tossed somewhere on the sea. The waves were crashing hard against his shore. I was glad I didn't know how he felt. Worrying about getting home was bad enough. I told Celery to breathe with me. A deep breath in, hold for 5 seconds, let it out. We did that for a long time. I couldn't breathe in very deeply but the motion was calming. Celestine could breathe better. In the quiet, I asked how he was injured, what led him to be discharged. He held his breath and swallowed back the half digested breakfast that came back up the way it went down. His hazel eyes met mine easily. No one had asked him before. Really? I found that hard to believe. It was just assumed he had a head injury. It was more than that. He was caught under fire and shot by who knows how many bullets. Most were still in him. He was on his way to tell the general that they had to move out. The information came too late. They were fired upon with no mercy. Celestine was caught up in it, the first of many casualties that day. He had been out on the field for 17 months with a cross around his neck. Unbeknownst to him, it came off that morning when he was getting dressed. It was found on the floor when his belongings were being sent home with him. He damn near didn't survive, probably one of the worst off any of us had been. It was only topped by Vivian. But it wasn't a competition.

I smoothed Celestine's hair. He was shaking. Evander bailed out of his duty making him feel better. I looked around and Wayland was far off in another world. Jack was asleep. Vivian was watching like an owl in the night. He locked eyes with me. There was no expression on his pale face. I sighed as deeply as I was allowed. It wasn't enough that my body had been rocked by a bomb going off just a few feet away from me. I vaguely recovered from that but it was less annoying than the wound in my lung. Celestine reached his hand up to touch my face. He smiled, for me, not himself. He told me I'd be alright. Yes, the physical wounds would heal soon. I'd likely never stop being bitter for my situation. As I thought where I could have been, I would never forgive the Chesterington army for what they did to me. I was perhaps even more angry for what they did to Celestine. He was younger, in his mid twenties. It would have been bad enough he was shot over a dozen times, or that he almost bled to death or left for dead. Falling in love with a mortal man that still had a duty to fulfill in the middle of a war was another attempt at killing him. Losing people he thought were friends was more heartbreak. He wasn't stupid, he saw it happening. Goddamn it, it was all falling on me. Not that I minded. I thought Celestial was sometimes a bit over dramatic, but he had a heart. It was too early for promises. We were getting closer to Oxbury. I still cared more about myself and finding my farm than leading a pack of injured wolves into shelter.