Wars at Home

"Where have you been?!" I flew across the room and grasped Thomas' arms, after he'd shut the front door behind him.

America's entry into the war had been announced a few days ago and men were enlisting left and right, it seemed. I'd been ready to talk Thomas out of it long before anything was announced, but I waited since he hadn't mentioned it and I hadn't wanted to put the idea in his head if he wasn't already thinking of doing it.

Not to mention, he'd been sick and hadn't left the house much in the last week.

I regretted waiting, when I went to wake him for breakfast this morning, and found that he was missing. I'd been so afraid that he'd gone to enlist without telling anyone, hoping to avoid a scene.

Thomas blinked at me for a few seconds, taken aback.

"I went to see Marianne," he said. "It's been over a week since I've been able to visit her."

I sagged with relief and hugged him tightly. He'd grown so tall, my arms were almost around his waist.

"Everything alright, Ma?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me.

"I was so afraid you went to enlist," I said, not wanting to loosen my grip.

When Thomas stiffened slightly and didn't answer, I did loosen it, though. I pushed back, gripping his arms again, and looked up into his serious face.

"Oh, Thomas, you can't!" I cried. "Promise me you won't do it!"

"Ma..." He looked away.

"No!" I said.

"Mother, it's a war," he said, meeting my eyes. "They need men. It's my duty."

He sounded like he was reciting it. Like he was trying to convince himself too.

"It's not your duty," I argued. "This isn't even our war!"

"It is now," he said simply.

"Thomas, no!" I said again, gripping his arms tighter, my eyes filling with tears.

He sighed, heavily. "Did you and Marianne plan this?" he accused. "I just went through all this with her."

I almost smiled. I really did like that girl.

"No," I said. "We both just love you and want you home, safe and sound."

He shook his head and looked off to the side. "It's a war," he said again. "People don't always have that luxury."

"Would you make Marianne a widow before you can even marry her?" I demanded. I knew it was a bit low to throw that at him, but if it kept him safe, I didn't care.

He met my eyes looking pained.

"I thought we were too young to get married." he said after a minute with a raised eyebrow.

They'd wanted to get married last year, but both Marianne's parents and Andrew and I thought that at fifteen and seventeen, they were much too young. We insisted they wait at least two years.

"As long as you stay here, I'll plan your wedding myself," I said resolutely.

He watched me for a few seconds, trying to figure out if I was serious.

He gave me a small smile, when he realized I meant it. "I doubt her parents would be quite as agreeable," he said. "But at least I know I won't get any argument from you when we do decide it's time." He gave me a look. "Right?"

I shook my head. "Not as long as you promise me you won't enlist."

"You know, I might not have a choice," he said. "There's going to be a draft."

"Fine," I said. "Register for the draft if you have to, but please don't volunteer," I pleaded.

He sighed again and sagged slightly, letting me know I'd won. He'd always been a people-pleaser and hardly able to say no to either Marianne or myself.

I hugged him again, finally letting myself relax a little bit. The possibility of a draft was bad enough, but that was only a maybe. And I'd heard that only men who were twenty-one would be required to register.

Thomas put his arms around me again. "Alright, I promise I won't go unless I have to."

"Thank you," I said, unable to stop the tears of relief. "I don't know what I'd do if I had to worry about losing you."

"You'd never lose me," he said. "I'm a hero, remember?"

I laughed against his chest, remembering all the times he'd pretended to be his own version of the many heroes from his favorite books. And of course the hero could never die.

I never wished that to be true more than I did right now.

But at least, for now, he was safe. I'd just spend every second hoping and praying that he wouldn't even have to register.

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"James, go tell everyone it's time for dinner," I said, stirring the soup and pretending I didn't notice him stealing bread as he waited at the table, supposedly doing his homework along with his sister. I might have scolded him, but since he was so skinny, even though he ate like a horse, I didn't bother. There was plenty and he'd still have plenty of room.

"Victoria, put your books away now, and set the table, please," I said after James went to call everyone.

"Ok, Mama," she got up and started putting her things away.

She was just putting the dishes out when James came back into the kitchen, followed by the rest of the family.

Andrew came over and kissed my cheek as the boys all took their places at the table.

"Smells good," he said in my ear.

I smiled at him briefly before my smile was wiped away when I heard what Samuel was saying.

"When are you going to enlist?" he asked.

I glanced back at Thomas, who met my eyes with a wary look. Samuel wasn't going to react positively to the fact that Thomas wasn't planning on enlisting.

"I heard all the girls love that uniform," Samuel continued, not giving Thomas the chance to say anything. "You'll have to let me try it on." He chuckled.

"Me too!" James chimed in.

Andrew took his seat and I put the food on the table.

"Maybe I can borrow it before you have to go," Samuel said.

"Enough of that, now," I said, sitting and hoping to end this conversation. "Quiet while your father says grace."

Everyone was quiet as Andrew blessed the food. Unfortunately the silence didn't last long. Samuel was too excited.

"So, what do you say?" he asked Thomas. "You'll let me borrow it, won't you? I mean, it's not illegal or anything, right?" He looked at Thomas expectantly.

Thomas looked at me again, clearly not wanting to have this conversation.

I just shrugged and nodded. Samuel was going to find out sooner or later. It was probably better, sooner.

"I don't think I'm getting a uniform, Sam," he tried, taking a bite of his food.

"Of course you are," Samuel said. "Everyone that signs up, gets one."

Thomas sighed. "I'm not signing up."

Samuel blinked at him, shocked.

"What do you mean?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Just what I said," Thomas looked uneasy.

Samuel stared at him in disbelief for a few minutes as Thomas tried to act nonchalant and eat his dinner.

"I don't believe it," Samuel finally said. "My own brother, a coward."

Thomas stared back at him looking irritated, but also a little guilty. Like he wanted to argue, but at the same time, agreed a little.

"Your brother is not a coward," I said, sternly.

Samuel gave me a look that said, he suspected I was the reason for Thomas' decision.

"Courage isn't proved by running off to war," I said.

"Yeah, well it's not proved by running away, either," he said, sounding hostile and bordering on disrespect.

"Who's running-?" Thomas started, getting angry.

"Enough," Andrew said, silencing them. They both looked at him.

"Boy, I suggest you get that look off your face," he said to Samuel who was scowling.

"And you owe your mother an apology."

Samuel looked down and took a deep breath before he met my eyes again.

"Sorry, Ma," he said, sincerely.

"Now," Andrew said, getting his attention again. "Thomas is old enough to enlist, but he's not required to. If it becomes necessary, he'll do his duty, I'm sure. But for now, he's decided not to go. And there's nothing wrong with that."

Samuel snorted and looked at the table. Thomas also stared at the table, looking awkward.

"Why do you think Thomas ought to go to war?" Andrew asked after a tense, quiet minute.

Samuel looked up. "It's his duty to go. Someone in this family should," he said. "Richard's two older brothers have already signed up."

"Ah," Andrew said. "And do you think I'm a coward, as well, for not enlisting?"

Samuel apparently hadn't even considered that implication. He looked surprised and guilty. "It's different for you. You have the family."

Andrew stared at him for a minute. "So, you think Thomas ought to sign up, because your friend's brother's did?"

"Yes!" Samuel looked like he was glad someone finally understood.

"Since when is something right because it's what other people are doing?" Andrew demanded.

Samuel scowled down at the table again.

"If Richard's brother's signed up, good for them," Andrew said. "I'm sure they'll make fine soldiers, but the military's not for everyone."

Samuel looked up again. He wisely didn't say anything, but the look on his face made it clear, he thought those people were cowards.

Andrew watched him for a minute, probably debating whether or not to call him on his nearly disrespectful expression again.

Deciding not to push him any more tonight, he said, "This discussion is over. Thomas can make his own decisions, without your approval."

Samuel's temper had always gotten him into plenty of trouble, and he obviously was having a hard time curbing it now. He sat watching Andrew with a hard look and clenched fists.

I hoped he'd have enough sense to accept the finality of Andrew's words and let it go. I knew it'd be hard for him. This anger was about more than just Thomas' decision. He was frustrated that he wasn't old enough to make it for himself. He wanted his brother to do what he couldn't yet.

Samuel looked between Andrew and Thomas, angry and frustrated before he looked at me.

"Can I be excused?" he was clearly still having trouble with his temper. "I'm not very hungry."

I looked at Andrew and he nodded.

"Alright," I said, quietly. I supposed it was best to let him cool off for a while.

Without another word, Samuel pushed away from the table and left the kitchen. A minute later, the front door slammed shut.

The rest of us sat awkwardly, with only the sound of Victoria's fiddling with her silverware, interrupting the silence.

"I didn't want you to go to war anyway," she said quietly to Thomas. "I'd rather have you here."

Thomas gave her a small smile.

"Me too," James said. "I don't think you're a coward. Anybody can sign up if they're old enough. That's nothing special. Sam's just mad he's not old enough."

Sometimes it amazed me that James could be so perceptive and so much more mature than Samuel who was four years his senior.

Thomas smiled at him before going back to his dinner, obviously wanting this discussion to end. He'd never liked to be the topic of conversation, even within our family.

James, as perceptive as ever and not minding being the center of attention, changed the subject.

"Mr. Jackson said, if it's okay with you, I could help out in the store, after school," he looked between Andrew and I.

We gave him permission and he proceeded to monopolize the conversation for the rest of dinner. He talked and laughed like always, as if there had never been an awkward conversation about the war, sending Samuel off in a huff.