Before my mind could catch up with my body, all I know is that I am running home.
Dispatched everywhere, the men in the brown-green camouflage army suits with shiny badges displayed on their chests like giant prizes have already started bursting into every home, every crevice.
All of the women at the water well knew it as soon as we saw them - guns and registration papers at the ready, determined and cold looks on their faces.
Searching through every household was a war general with his equipment, pulling young, new boys out of their homes.
That is why the rest of the army wasn't with them today.
Not every soldier is needed to draft us, so most stayed back to train except for the generals.
The wind is rushing through my ears rhythmically and making my eyes water.
And by the time I make it home...
I am just on time to witness the event that would change my life forever.
"Adeline," gasps my father, eyes darting to my out of breath figure.
"Dad- "
Clutching dress fabric to my chest, I am cut off by our front door slamming open, swinging violently on it's hinges.
"Gentlemen," A mustached man says, nodding dutifully.
I regard the man who has barged into our home with dark eyes and disgust.
How dare he come walking in like that, unannounced into my home?
And how could he still have that smirk printed on his face, despite knowing that he would be ruining families' lives today?
It is an effort to reign in my rage as I stand in front of my brother protectively, a hand placed upon my hips.
I spit out at the general, "Excuse me, may I help you?"
The blond general sneers.
"Actually, you can, miss. I am here to consult the citizens of Woodson wishing to apply for the draft."
"Well, sorry to disappoint, officer."
He gives me a curious look.
"But the Marina family does not wish to apply. You would do yourself well to show yourself out. Have a nice day."
Surprised at my reaction to his words, the man raises a trimmed eyebrow at me and my fake smile.
Honestly, I am barely containing myself from letting out an insulting string of words that I know would get me into more trouble. I don't care how standoffish I'm being - this is a grave matter at hand.
Walking over to me, the general tries to intimidate me with his giant figure.
"Now that wasn't very respectful."
I lift my chin up to him in defiance.
No one messes with me or my family.
"Respect goes both ways, you know."
Oops.
Did I say that out loud?
"Oh, really?" He stutters, looking at my dad next to me, and Andres behind me. "I think you, sir -" he points to my father "-ought to get a handle on your daughter."
Again, the officer's disrespect and arrogance reeks from his well structured body. My fists are itching for a fight, but instead of punching, I clench my teeth tightly and keep my mouth shut.
Getting slapped around isn't worth talking back to someone like him. Seeing my anger, my dad comes to my defense, warning the general to watch himself.
Just go away, go away, go away.
Just a little distraction, a little resistance and he'll leave. The atmosphere is tense, but I almost think we've gotten away with it, and that the general forgot why exactly he came here.
Until the general makes steps to move toward the door, in my foolish head there is a grain of hope that it worked. But when the grossly pompous man turns around, one hand still on the doorknob, he sends us an evil smile which shatters my heart and my world.
"No? Well then, it does not matter anyways. I will be taking both the Marina men to serve in the war, as the draft is not an option and you have now expired my time. Good day." he announces, turning away.
He lingers in the doorway expectantly, and shocked out of my own body, my wide eyes turn to the only family I have.
I will be taking both.
He wants both of them?
The possibility never occurred to me. I knew all of the younger boys would be recruited since they make the best soldiers.
Seventeen year olds like Andres.
But my father, too?
Both my brother and my father walk towards me to say goodbye, and it's like I'm watching this horrible moment from outside of my own body.
Holding myself back from outright crying, I bury my face into my dad's gray hair, hugging him tightly and just thinking about what is going to happen now.
He's too old for this, I think to myself.
My father is over the age of forty. Death for him would be inevitable in a war, especially when winter came.
Released from his hug, I then turn to my brother, who's not too old, but rather too young to go to war.
My father is frail and tired.
Andres is young and built.
Andres has a better chance.
And with that, I make my painful decision, praying to my mother that I am doing the right thing.
With a chest filled with dread, I push my father away from the cruel general who has begun to drag my boys halfway out the door already.
As I rip my dad's arm away from the him, the blond general's face turns red, and he blocks the front of the small door of our cottage to face me.
He stands directly in front of the entrance, trapping all of us inside in case we decide to run. He still has Andres' cotton shirt held in the vice grip of his arms as his hands move to his belt to pull out his weapon.
Directly pointed at me, the officer holds out a handgun.
But I am not afraid.
Before he can pull the trigger, I look at the monster dead in the eyes, daring to desperately voice the terms of the agreement I made with myself just the other day.
"Wait," I swallow, holding my hands up.
I need to make sure I do this right.
Remembering my words to Andres yesterday, I slowly feel more confident.
"Wait." The general's eyes glint with humor at my repeated statement, and my brother stares at me, completely frozen.
I hope he forgives me for this.
"I'll volunteer, as a nurse, on the front lines, but only if you leave my father alone."
The officer grins like a hawk.
"Let him stay."
Andres faces me, trying quickly to interject, but the soldier beats him to it.
"Hmm...Okay, I'll take it."
It's a deal.
Grabbing me and Andres by the arm, a tear tracks it's way down my cheek when the general rushes us out the door.
The last thing I see of my home is my father standing helplessly in the door. He holds a trembling, wrinkled hand over his mouth saying I love you, but his eyes are sad.
I reach deep inside of me for the words to respond, to say it back, but I feel too nauseous. By the time I gather my senses, I am thrown into the group of people standing on the grass between neighboring houses.
Boys and brothers and fathers all over the place are surrounded by guards standing tall over the terrorized mass of bodies.
We are all scared.
I recognize many townspeople I know from Woodson's market - a man who sells shoes, a teenager who runs his family business delivering rations of milk.
It seems that almost a hundred people are gathered here, including some women like me, who are clumped together as confused as everyone else.
Thrown into the mixture, I hold on tight to Andres so that we don't get split apart.
"What were you thinking?" He demands exasperatedly, grabbing my face in his hands.
I can smell the nervous sweat on him as if he were a child again.
"Andres," I whisper-yell at him, eye to eye. "We'll be okay."
A trumpet sounding pulls us out of our conversation.
"ATTENTION!"
The crowd hushes and turns to the direction of the gritty voice.
Screaming at the crowd is the same blonde and rude general I was speaking to earlier. The one who pulled me and Andres out of our home.
I watch him glance over the field of innocent people that he is sending off to fight smiling brightly.
And even though he probably can't see me, I give him a cold and hard glare.
"Each of you have been honored to serve your country today, and I expect the people of Woodson will all do it to the best of their abilities. As of right now, you are not citizens, but soldiers. You should be proud! Now, men, come with me, and nursing women over there," he demands, gesturing in two opposite directions.
My heart quickens at the idea of being alone again. My fingers refuse to leave Andres' arm as the rest of the people start departing, and I'm frantically scanning the area for anything to help me.
As I look around, the roof of the house that Andres, my dad, and I all built up together is unmistakable in the distance. The roof is crumbling, but it was what held my brother and I together through long and cold winter months. Now, there is only one figure standing upon the threshold, pain in his eyes.
The world seems still for a moment.
Many yards away, my father watches Andres and I from the doorway. What is he feeling right now? My heart breaks and plummets, reminded of the loss he has already experienced and is experiencing now. Yet, instead of crying, he surprises me with a gesture.
A salute with two of his fingers, a surge of strength.
I collect myself, stitching pieces of my composure back together. I am sure that I can come out of this, I can come out of this alive.
I will return home to him, and I will be there to assure him that everything will be alright.
I need to.
We need to.
"Andres, I need you to be strong, okay? You gather over there, and I'll go with the nurses. Everything is going to be fine. You'll only go through training first, as will I. We will both meet up soon after." I assert to my wide-eyed brother, making sure he's okay with this.
"Okay," he breathes, calming down at my reassurance. "Okay."
Nodding at him, hugging him, and praying to heaven above that I'm right, I say, "I'll see you soon" before leaving him behind.
Feeling shaky, I reach the few women nurses, all older women, as they study me with a hint of sorrow.
I turn away, frowning.
What have I gotten myself into?
***
Uh oh! What do you guys think is in store for Adeline?
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Xoxo,
xocaterinaxo