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Frozen in Time

A second chance at "I love you"

By Madison TylerPublished 3 years ago Updated 3 years ago 6 min read
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Frozen in Time
Photo by Dominik Dombrowski on Unsplash

February 29, 1948: My lips quivered, my nose bunched up and eyebrows furrowed. I love you, I thought as I looked from his eyes, down to his feet, and followed our tracks out over the frozen pond, where we came from.

The only tracks I could see were ours. It had freshly snowed the night before, and there was a tree on the other side of the pond where a tire swing hung over the longest branch. The swing had enough rope to reach several feet out from the shore, where it was about 6 feet deep. I knew because I had swung from that very tire swing into the pond one afternoon on a hot end-of-summer Sunday after church. Snowflakes dusted my eyelashes, clouding my vision and transporting me back in time.

September 3, 1939: Ed, my oldest brother, was diligently reminding me that swinging from the tire out into the pond was ill advised due to the shallowness of the pond. Our younger brother, Harry, was sitting at the base of the tree holding the swing and cooing something I didn’t quite hear, but I took to mean he agreed with Ed’s assessment.

“Yeah well I’m going to do it anyway,” I said calmly as I lifted my chin a bit higher so I could see just over Ed’s head.

“You’re going to get hurt,” he warned me sternly. He was beginning to sound a lot like Papa.

“Okay then.”

“And then I'm going to have to explain what happened,” he added when I didn’t concede. I let out a small but audible sigh.

“Aw that’s too bad, Ed. I wanted to ask the boys about your recent application to Surrey’s most infamous club. We're having our semi-annual invitations ceremony next weekend, but I bet you knew that already. I reckon we’d be better off finding someone else good at maths to be our accountant. It’s a secret club, you know. Have to be able to keep secrets as a member of the club. It’s a prerequisite and all.” I trailed off, looking out into the pond, careful not to meet his gaze as I kept my expression between neutral and disappointed.

I could see that Ed was thinking, weighing his options.

“Alright,” Ed finally said, “I won’t tell.” I stifled a grin peeling the corners of my mouth upward.

“Great news, Ed,” I said with sincerity. “This is really great news. We needed someone who is good with maths, and now we got one. The best one! The best one in the whole school! The boys will be pleased to know.”

I grabbed the rope, tugged it up the bank a few paces, and jumped onto the tire. My feet swung out in the air in front of me and I watched the ground underneath me turn from dirt and leaves to dark pond water. When it had extended as far as possible over the water, I leaned forward and sprung from the swing. I grabbed a hold of my nose before hitting the water. The cool water enveloped my body as I plunged down.

We came home that evening to find Mama and Papa in a serious discussion. Ed sent Harry and me off to bed before joining them. I pretended to be asleep for a little while and then crept back out into the living room, hiding behind the door that separated it from the kitchen.

When I returned, Mama was gone and Papa was talking to Ed from his armchair. Ed was seated on the couch, next to the grandfather clock, which was over 2 meters tall. This clock in particular had a knack for being the most annoying clock I ever encountered. Each second, it let out a tick, and every quarter hour and half hour a partial chime, and then, at the top of the hour, it would play the full Westminster Chimes. I really hated that clock.

“They’ve made it mandatory for all fit men between 18 and 41 to register for training.” I could barely make out what they were saying over the hum of the refrigerator.

“So they’ve expanded the age range since May,” it was more of a statement than a question. They had had this conversation before. Or at least, a version of it.

“Yes. Parliament rushed it today. Because we’ve officially declared war on Germany, the country will seek every able bodied man except those in exempted industries to prepare to fight.”

“How will I know when my training begins?”

“I suspect soon. We’ll hear more in the coming days,” Papa said before taking a huge puff from his cigar.

There was a long silence between the two of them, as they each stared off into a different corner of the room. Was I hearing this right? I pulled myself away from the door and crept from the kitchen to my bedroom in silence, careful not to step on the creaking floorboard outside Harry and my room.

When I opened our door the hallway light illuminated Harry’s face. His eyes parted slightly, and he began to sit up.

“What did you learn? Did you find out what Mama and Papa were talking about?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

I looked at him, his long tendrils framed his baby face. Inquisitive eyes. Even in the darkness, I could see that. I felt a ping of envy under the sadness.

“Yes, just a bunch of boring old grown up stuff. Bills and the like. Accounting and all that," I said.

“Oh,” said Harry skeptically.

I yawned loudly as I climbed into my bed. “Yes, extremely dull stuff. Harry, do be a dear and go back to sleep. I’m sorry to have woken you up with this story about accounting. You must find it more boring than I do. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry pondered this before deciding not to pursue. “Right. Goodnight then, Tom.”

December 21, 1939: Ed had packed his rucksack with clothes and a canteen. It was obviously full when Mama opened the top to try to fit a sandwich she had just made into the main pocket. She struggled for the better part of a minute and finally managed to fit it inside. When she stood again, I saw a single tear fall down her cheek. She wiped it away before turning back around to Papa, Ed, and Harry.

Small arms wrapped around his waist. A fierce hug followed by a single kiss on the cheek. A handshake that ends in an embrace. My eyes meet his and I nod. He nods back.

My feet carried me down our road, right turn, left turn, left turn again, through Mrs. Jenkin’s flower bed, past the old willow tree to the pond. The bank lapped gently at my ankles as I skipped a small flat rock across the water. Five. Pretty good, I thought.

I sat on the swing and pumped my legs. The harder I pumped, the higher I got, until I was in the tree leaves.

It had been dark for hours when I got back home. All of the lights were off except for the light in the living room. From the front yard, I could see Papa and Harry holding Mama, her hands in her face and shoulders moving up and down. I quietly moved through the front door, down the hallway, and to my bedroom. I crawled into bed and found sleep.

February 29, 1945: The snow was falling harder now, and I could barely make out his face in front of me. The hood of his coat covered his dark brown hair, and his eyes were all but obscured by the snow that had gathered on his long, thick eyelashes. He was more handsome than I remembered. The war had aged him quite well.

I felt my eyes swell, thinking of the regret. At the same time, I was thankful for the second chance.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you too,” he replied.

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Madison Tyler

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