Before we know it, my confused family and I are packed onto a bleak looking bus. Just as we climbed onto the silent transport, the metal creaked under our feet. Ma clutches George and my hand tightly as we take off through the sunset lit sky. The two detectives appear to not have joined us to an unknown imprisonment.
"Where do you think we're going?" A woman mumbles in Italian to her husband. He answers her with a shush.
An eerie feeling is present as barely a single word is said in the ten minutes we've been on the bus.
All of a sudden the bus hits a bump in the road causing a few women to screech. I allow my eyes to scan and inspect my surroundings trying to make sense of the here and now. There are at least thirty Italians on the bus with us. After twenty minutes we reach the outskirts of New York City. A place I've never ventured so far out before.
A few men in the U.S. Military Uniforms sit silently with pistols in their grasp. This is nowhere revilantly close to any picture I've seen before.
Pa and ma have begun mingling around asking if they knew what was happening. As I suspected, they were all told that they were criminals, just as we were.
Listening in on Ma's conversation with a few nearby strangers, I noted that the vast majority of us were not legal citizens of the United States. They were now calling us Illegal Aliens. Was that the real reason we were all being arrested? But did they have a similar story to the one the two detectives told me?
It didn't fit together. The whole world felt like glass and someone had purposely beat us to pieces with a wooden bat.
For now my theory for us all being together is that we were all born in Italy.
Turning my head to look out the opposite window of the bus, my eyes catch a young, crying girl sitting across from me and Geroge. The fragile child couldn't be older than six years old. My heart hurts with the thought of a child younger than George headed off to God knows where.
Her brown, walnut shaped eyes lock with mine, her crying paused. "What's your name?" I ask her in a calm voice. She tilts her head in confusion. I translate what I said to her in Italian. She appears new to the country and unfamiliar with English.
"Viola." She sniffles. Her pa comforts her distraught ma from the row behind her. Viola sits alone with her legs dangling off the hard chair. Her legs aren't long enough to reach the floor yet.
"Hi Viola." George waves to the little girl. Her curly hair is a mess in her face and appears almost tangled.
"What's your name?" Her voice comes out in almost a hush.
"Joseph and this here is my baby brother George." George butts me annoyed for calling him a baby. I notice a single tear run down her cheek.
"Want to see some pictures?" I ask her, trying to ease both of our fears. She nods silently at me. Taking my sketchbook out of my satchel, I begin showing her the building and house ideas that I've drawn.
I let the child hold my notebook so she can look through the pages at her own pace. It seems to calm her and halt her tears.
"You're going to be a good papa someday." Ma turns around in her seat, grabbing my hand. She sits in front of Geroge and I next to a middle aged woman. I look away knowing all too well that I don't wish to have kids. She can have pa to thank for that.
"You as well George." Geroge takes hold of her other hand. "Thank you ma." There's some light in the bus but it's not much as we travel past a small town.
The sky is now a beautiful pink and orange sunset and I almost wished I brought my oil paints.
"Who's this pretty girl?" Viola smiles down at the sketch. My eyes extend when I see that she's looking at the picture I drew of Louise. "She's just a friend of mine." I tell her.
George laughs under his breath, butting me in the arm. "You drew her? I knew you had it bad for her." George chuckles taking my sketchbook from Viola.
"It's not like that George, now give it here!" I'm beginning to panic and feel heat rise to my cheeks." Instead of obeying he lifts it above his head. "Tell me how you really feel about her and then I'll give it back," teases George.
"Ma, tell him to give it back!" I whine to her but she's busy in conversation with the woman besides her.
"Look at your cheeks, they're turning pink." Smirks George. Viola giggles at George. "Now look who's the baby." I frown at Viola feeling betrayed by our ten minute friendship.
"It's from the cold. Close the window George." I'm more worried about the sketchpad flying out. But then again I'm worried about every single thing in my life right now.
Just as I feared the strong wind blowing in from the window blows out the window.
"Joseph I'm sorry, truly, I didn't mean to, it was an accident." George stutters in fear of my wrath.
I notice Viola has stopped laughing. "George, that was important. It had my greatest ideas drawn down in there. You just let it go you little shit." Closing my eyes, attempting to ease my anger, I get up to move seats.
"Sit your ass back down kid." One of the Soldiers from the front, instructs me.
With no choice I sit back down with my brother. "Please forgive me Joseph, it was an honest mistake. I'll buy you another one as soon as I can." Feeling unforgiving with the current events, I don't say a word to him. Instead I focus on the view of the right side instead of the left where Geroge sits.
It's all gone. I have plenty of sketchbooks back at home filled with my ideas but this book had a bunch of my favorites in it. Besides, how will I keep calm now with the only thing that helps my anxiety gone?
"Ma, Joseph is acting like a five year old and ignoring me." This time ma turns around. "He threw my Sketchbook out the window." I explained crossing my arms. "This would've never happened if you'd just confess your true feelings for the girl you love." Frowns George.
"You're in love with a girl?" Ma and the middle aged woman beside her smile at me. The middle aged woman was the last of us to get on the bus.
"No, I don't love her, we're friends. That's it." I look down at my hands trying to avoid conversation.
"Do you have a photograph of her?" The woman asks curiously. "My brother drew a picture of her." George chimes in. I shoot him a glare but all he does is smirk.
The middle aged woman puts a hand on her heart. "My papa was a painter, a spectacular one. He told me that when he first met my mama he was so nervous that he could never find the right words to tell her how he felt. He was not the best at speaking to her but what he was good at was painting. My papa told me painting was another form of speaking for him." The woman smiles as if she's remembering him.
"He painted his feelings down and painted her. One day my mama went into our family bakery in Italy to buy some bread for her family when she saw him painting. My papa just about died of embarrassment." She chuckles.
Viola and about five other people have gone quiet to listen to the woman's story.
"Did she fall in love with him after that?" Viola asks curiously. The gentle woman shook her head with a small grin.
"She was the most stubborn woman anyone knew for miles and hid her feelings for him. Quite well as he mentioned to me. They started out as friends though. Good friends. Well,that friendship eventually became a kindling romance. Four years after she walked into our family owned bakery, they married." A few people make gushy faces at the woman with full hearts. She tucks a piece of dark hair behind her ear.
"That was a beautiful love story." Viola's parents commented. "You see if you don't ever confess to your friend how you really feel then nothing will ever happen. Love is not meant to be ignored." Each time I think of Louise my stomach does dances. We haven't known each other for that long but I can't help but feel a warm feeling whenever I see her. That feeling has to mean something right? It's hard to tell what that feeling means since I've never been in love before. What would have happened between us if I had met her at the theatre tonight?
My family and I are being arrested so I doubt she'd ever consider talking to me again. I wouldn't blame her anyways. It wouldn't be something I wanted her good name to be affiliated with.
"Joseph, you have your usual 'my life is garbage' on your face." Remarks George. I can't tell if he's trying to crack a joke with me or not.
"What do you know? Did you ever tell Betty how you feel for her? You asked her out to a date but never did you mention sharing your feelings with her." I spit out bitterly. "Did she turn you down baby brother?" George sinks down in his seat embarrassed. "Love is a wonderful feeling, gentlemen. Remember not to take it for granted. If you don't ever share your feelings it might be too late one day." She winks at us before turning back around. Listening to the woman tell the stories of her parents' love story made me wonder if she had one like theirs. Her husband was nowhere to be seen on the bus.
"What time is it Joseph?" Ma asks me ten minutes later. Glancing down at the watch on my wrist I tell her it's nine thirty at night. I've been looking down at my watch practically every minute waiting until Louise realizes I'm not coming.
Soon Pa finds a seat behind us. With him now sitting behind me, makes me feel on edge. He was seated up front conversing with a few men.
"This is insane!" He's not a patient man so it doesn't take him long after he sat behind us to act on his impatience. Pa quickly stands up rushing to the front of the bus. He's had enough of not being told where we were headed to this late. For once I can't say I blame him.
A few men back him up, most likely the ones he was talking to earlier. "Where the hell are you taking us? We have children who need to be sent off to bed!" Pa's voice rumbles in English at the men in American uniforms.
"Montana. Now keep your voices down," Snaps one of the men. I remember learning about that state in school. It's almost on the other side of the United States.
Why are we being taken to a prison located all the way in Montana?
"My daughter has to excuse herself but can't since we've been driving for hours!" Viola's dad screams from behind pa. The whole bus has gone quiet. The rest of the American soldiers have joined the lone soldier backing him up. They hold onto a metal pole above for support.
"We stop in ten minutes at a bus stop for the night. You will be allowed to excuse yourself with one of us escorting." What happened to privacy? Viola is a young girl.
Defeated, the men head back to their seats. Pa remains in front of the soldiers with his usual confidence. "Go back to your seat!" The soldier commands pa in a deep voice. Pa doesn't like being told what to do but this man has more authority and power than him. With no choice pa makes his way back to his seat. He curses behind his breath when he gets there.
Exactly ten minutes later we stop at a bus station with lanterns and flashlights everywhere. Soldiers smoke roll ups and sit around a blazing fire. A fire that I wish I was by right now. I shake from the cold musky air on the bus.
Thankfully ma brought a small blanket but it's only one. Unfortunately, it's as thin as string. "You two share it." She orders me and George. George rolls his eyes but scoots near me shivering. We all have our coats buttoned up to our chins.
"Ma, you and George should have it first. I'm fine." I insist but ma shakes her head. "My children come first."
"Didn't bring me one Anna? Only thinking of yourself." Pa has his arms crossed with feet planted close to each other.
"Leo, I wasn't sure where we were going or how long it'd take to get there. I grabbed it quickly. Take my scarf." Ma hands her husband the knitted, red scarf off of her neck. Pa takes it without saying a word. It's selfish of him to take her scarf when he's already wearing one of his own.
Before going to sleep we're allowed to excuse ourselves outside. Being in the very back of the bus. We go last. Ma and pa go first. George, Viola and a woman with a baby in her arms are the last to go.
George and I let the young mother go first in front of us. Viola's parents insisted her to stay next to me and George in line while we waited. They weren't allowed to go with her. It was either accompanied by an older male soldier or George and I.
George waits for viola and takes her hand leading her back to the bus. "Can I go?" I ask a young soldier. He rubs his hands together quickly in order to warm them up. "Miss will you please move along, we have a gentleman who needs to go urgently." The soldier calls to her behind a single tree.
"Miss, don't you think you and your baby would be much warmer in the bus?" The soldier asks with genuine concern.
All of a sudden the young woman with a baby dashes from around the tree trying to escape into the unknown darkness.
I'm not sure how she thought she'd be able to escape since we're all outnumbered. She gets farther than I expected them to let her but suddenly, out of nowhere a soldier yells from the fire. He picks up his long rifle, aims it and shoots the woman cold in the head. She falls to the ground lifeless with the baby still in her arms. The bang rings out through my ears.
The baby's cries are deafening. It feels as if my heart stopped beating. She's dead. They killed her. The soldier who was escorting me back to the bus has the same facial expression that I do.
Screams can be heard from inside the bus. The screams and owls noises in the cold night send shivers down my spine. But staring down at the dead woman with her child still clutched underneath her, feels as if I've laid in a pile of snow for hours.
I remember this woman because she gave up her seat when we first got on the bus so George and I could sit together.
"What the hell?" The young soldier escorting me who's not much older than I am screeches. All of a sudden he turns to the side to throw up. I scoot away from him almost getting his vomit on my shoes.
I feel as this soldier does. The soldiers are silent but none of them look the way my escort and I look.
"Damned bitch. It meant to be a warning shot in her leg." The man who shot her mutters.
"You didn't have to shoot her! Why didn't you just go after her?" The young soldier escorting me yells. "I suppose we should've left her to you Hansen?" The older soldier tosses the rollup cigarette that sat between his chapped lips.
This is sickening. How could anyone do this? What if he had accidentally missed and killed the baby?
"I wouldn't have done what you've just done, sir." The short man with blonde hair and baby blue eyes trembles besides me. "Grow some balls Hansen, we're at war now. It was an accident but we do what we have to do, it's nothing personal." Looking into Hansen's eyes it appears he has taken it personal. Fear sits confidently in his eyes. As do mine.
In the corner of my eye another soldier leaning against the bus watches the murderer with skepticism in his eyes. We can't be the only ones seeing this as pure, unnecessary violence.
"Why'd you let that happen?" I scream in shock at my escort. He should've stopped him. It happened so fast I'm not even sure if I could've stopped the soldier.
"Grab the baby and get back on the bus! Hurry!" The young soldier wipes his mouth clean. I quickly hurry over to the deceased woman. She still has the baby clutched to her chest.
Slowly, I turn the woman over picking up the young child. I tried to be delicate as possible with her. Blood drips down from the back of the young woman's head and I myself feel as if I'm about to vomit. The baby's eyes look as if it's seen a ghost. With eyes big the baby stops crying when it's safe in my arms.
Not wasting another second I run back onto the bus clutching the baby with all my warmth. I hold him close to my chest realizing how different this child's life will be as an orphan.
As I step on the bus everyones standing up on their feet. Emotions of worry and fear resolute across the aisle as I make my way to my seat without the baby's mother
Feeling numb to the bone, I handed the baby off to ma. "What happened to the baby's mama? We couldn't see through the fogged up window." An elderly woman asks me with trembled lips. "We heard a loud bang." Cries an older woman. The whole bus watches me silently waiting for my answer.
Tears sit at the corner of my eyes but I don't let them fall. As soon as I walked onto the bus with the baby in my arms, they knew what happened. They all heard that gunshot. But nonetheless I tell them.
"They killed this child's mother because she was trying to escape. It isn't right." I say through gritted teeth. Gasps are heard throughout the bus. "Yes, it was meant to be a warning shot but it appears shooting needs practice. So if anyone tries to escape like that your children will be orphans by the end of this." The murderer steps onto the bus. His uniform is a little bit more professional than the others I've seen. He's an older man with hair so gray it almost looks white.
My stomach churns just by the sight of him. "Who the hell gives you these injustice orders to do so?" A man yells from in front of us.
"I do. My name is Colonel Harrison Decker and you will follow my orders!" He states with a rough voice. The bus goes silent and we all realize that we aren't going to any ordinary prison. We're going to a place much much worse.
~ ~ ~
Chapter posted: 3/26/2021
Sorry for the longer chapter. I've reedited this chapter about four times already. What'd you think of what happened the woman with the baby? I also loved writing Viola's character!!
Until next time...