I gazed over the clouded horizon. I thought about when the war was gonna end, or when pops was gonna come back. I checked my pocket to feel the $5 I had received for my birthday. I heard the splintering wood creak as I heard Alice's voice.
"Mrs. Peters is worried about you, Jack. She said you should come back home." I turned to see Alice fiddling with her skirt. She had her hair braided and a satchel on her side.
"Go home Alice, your 15 and you still have nothing better to do than talk with my mother." I said coldly. She shifted her weight and glared at me.
"My mother is dead and my father is at war! Between working as an apprentice seamstress and coming to the dock to get
you, I don't have nothing better to do." She scolded. Each word left her lips as if an icy breeze was passing her.
"Fine," I called standing up, "You win, let's go to Roy's"
We walked off the dock to 2nd Avenue. Everybody was rushing to the post office to send off letters or at the butcher getting dinner. We opened the door to Roy's as a bell filled the room. The aroma of sugar and smoke clouded like overcast
"I am getting a milkshake." Alice said, walking over to a red booth. I followed her and sat down across from her. She took out her braid and redid it. Roy walked over and handed us some menus.
"I'm guessing your usual, Jack?" Roy asked. His apron was stained a questionable color of grey.
"Yessir" I said carefully. I always said each word carefully when I was talking to an adult. I was scared I would say the wrong word and get beaten or lectured.
"And for the pretty lady?" He asked once more.
"A chocolate milkshake for me Roy!" Alice said. Her eyes met mine like she was saying 'did you see the stain?'
"Alice Jones! Is that you? I didn't recognize you! How old are you now?" Roy's eyes fluttered. Even Mr. Gilbert up the road knew Alice's age. She was the talk of the small town ever since her mother died.
"I'm 15." She said politely.
"Oh darling, you are the spitting image of your mother. Same eyes." His giddiness was showing, talking about a sensitive topic. I couldn't help but look at her green eyes and honey blonde hair. She always kept her hair braided, never down.
"Yes, my father says the same" she said quietly.
"And Jack! How are you holding up?" Roy asked with compassion. Holding up? With what? I didn't want to ask, but my curiosity got the better of me.
"Holding up with what?" I asked like a complete fool.
"Your father is at Pearl Harbor, is he not?" Roy said. I nodded slowly. That's what his last letter was about. How Hawaii was a wonderful state. Way sunnier that Vermont. "Pearl Harbor was just blown up by some Asian country. There could be survivors, but it's not looking too good." The world stopped. I couldn't believe my ears. The ringing got louder as I tried to stand up. A warm hand place on my arm. I looked over to see Alice with a pale face, trying to keep me on my feet.
"We will be back later, I gotta take him home Mr. Garters." Alice said blankly. She held my arm as she walked me home.