In the morning, I don’t hear planes, or bombs dropping, or the sound of people screaming. My older siblings head for the door.
“Come on!” my older brother Patrick tells us. I stand up and see smoke everywhere. Buildings are burned and debris flying in the wind. “Did they make it?” my older sister Jane asks outloud. "Let's find someone who can at least help us." he says grabbing my hand and walking through the streets. We find that almost every home was burned. "If I'm not crazy, I think I see someone." Patrick actually starts running to this person who directs him, and points east. "He says," Patrick says running back to us, "To go to the train station. Bring any belongings we have--" "But we have none!" Jane interrupts. "That's why they'll give us some things!" "But we don't have a suitcase!" she protests. "Besides, how can we trust him?" The fact is, it's hard to trust anyone, even in this war. But Patrick, being the oldest, motions for us to follow. I don't object, because he's the oldest. But Jane glares at him and doesn't budge. She won't move and probably won't for awhile.
This "game" that they play, really bothers me. When we, (Patrick and I), arrive at the train station we get in a line. "What about Jane?" I ask him. What I'm really saying is, "Don't you care?" "She'll follow, just watch. She can't stand being in one place......
alone." Sure enough, she runs up to us, not saying a word.
The lady at the register asks, "Where are your parents?" What kind of question is that?, I thought. "Are your parents gone?"she rephrases it. Patrick shrugs. "Our house was bombed,ma'am. We don't have a clue." "Well, if they can't be found, we'll check their files, for a will." She searches in a file cabinet, and sees what she's looking for. "Let's see." she says to herself. She quickly scans the paper. "Okay, I understand. Your parents say that you will belong immediately to your Uncle Samuel." "We don't have an uncle. Mother never mentions it." Jane corrects the woman. These are your parents names, correct?" she holds up the paper.
Mr. Thomas Wicker and his wife Sophia Robin Wicker
Their children: Patrick Wicker, Jane Wicker, Emily Wicker
It is our names! Now I, was confused even more! "Yes, it is." Patrick answered, not knowing what to say. "Good then. Your uncle lives in Durham, (in the country), you will stay there until the war is over. Then after, if your parents are found, then you may live with them. I will put you down for the four o'clock train, this afternoon." "But that's in two hours." I speak up. "Well, I guess you'll just have to wait here." She hands us a small bag, as we inch our way towards a bench, to wait for that long train..............................................
END OF PART I
A map of England.
Bulidings that were bombed, in England.
