Author's note: Yeah, this is what happens when it takes you only 45 minutes of a 2.5 hour session to complete a state standardised test. Die AIMS, die.
*cough* Anyway. I'm both in love and hating this story at the same time. Help would be greatly appreciated -- I might put it in the next Journal if we do another one.
And We All Go The Same Way Home
Jaden’s heart beat a wild tempo, each beat so loud that he heard every single thump. The sun was coming over the treetops, the sun was coming up and his heart was making noise like an approaching storm and he felt naked, vulnerable, conspicuous –
He took a deep breath, casting a nervous glance about him. The train station was filled with only a handful of sleepy-looking early morning passengers. Some of them were laden with baggage – probably fleeing the encroaching war zone.
He couldn’t blame them.
Jaden jumped a foot in the air when the incoming train blew its whistle, loud and clear. He hated its piercing cry, felt that somehow it would betray him. His heart rate, which had started to slow down, picked up its mad march all over again. The behemoth locomotive chugged into the station, slowing to a stop. It belched a cloud of steam into the air as a porter leapt off one of the cars.
“All aboard,” he called at the top of his baritone voice, reverberating off the trees and making Jaden wince – every sound was one that could give him away. The porter walked along the train, throwing open doors one by one and letting off the handful of passengers crazy enough to remain in the desecrated German countryside – mostly soldiers and medics. Jaden glanced at them nervously. They were American, by the look of their uniforms, but why they were on a civilian train coming into battle baffled him. Then again…
He quickly averted his eyes and thoughts as he scooped up his lone, tattered knapsack and fell in behind a haggard-looking mother and her three children, whom she was trying to coax onto the train. Jaden didn’t pay attention, keeping his eyes trained on his boots and his ears trained on the soldiers.
“Not this shit again,” one of them groaned. “We’ll be lucky if we make it out of here alive.”
Jaden glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder at the line of trees. The ever-present black plume of smoke hovered above the tops of them, serving as a sure sign of the approaching warfare.
Jaden shut out all thoughts of the war and climbed aboard the train, throwing his lone bag underneath a table affixed to the wall and sitting down in one of the seats surrounding it. His heart slowed again as the train began to move. Trees lining the railroad flashed by, but Jaden took no notice, keeping his eyes away from the windows, fearful of seeing another war zone or even the ominous black cloud. Once, he chanced a glance to his right – and all he saw was the burned remnants of trees that had been claimed by some kind of fighting. It scared him into curling into a ball and not looking anywhere other than his shoes.
He knew he was being silly. He knew he was being paranoid. He didn’t quite care. Better safe than sorry, cautious than caught. But no one had recognised him yet.
Jaden glanced down at himself, still surprised to see civilian clothes. At least no one would be able to pick him out right away – they’d need to get close to him.
He leaned back against the chair, feeling like he’d rather be naked. He wore a dead man’s clothes – Jaden had found the corpse in the woods. Another innocent life claimed by the war.
“Waste not, want not,” Jaden had said, more to reassure himself than anything.
The train turned round a bend, and Jaden chanced a glance out of the window. The bend had taken them south – he could no longer see the smoke of the war machine. He breathed a long-deserved sigh of relief.
The mother and three young children who had boarded the train with Jaden had settled into seats a few rows in front of Jaden and across the aisle. He could see them clearly – the mother looked exhausted, her face lined with worry. The biggest of her children, who couldn’t be any older than ten, looked sombre and meditative, sitting ramrod straight and staring at his dirty feet. The war had clearly already broken his spirit.
Poor thing, Jaden thought.
The mother said something Jaden couldn’t hear to the smallest of the three, who was pressing his face to the glass window and making funny expressions. Jaden couldn’t help but smile. All the fighting and devastation hadn’t spoiled at least one innocent spirit. He felt a tiny glimmer of something warm and vaguely familiar.
Maybe things will be all right in the end, he thought. Maybe… there is hope.
He smiled to himself. That’s what it was. Hope. He made a mental note – Hope would make a good name. He reached into his pocket and thumbed the tiny, washed-out photo, just to reassure himself that it was really there.
I’m coming, my darling, he thought.
He looked back to the mother and her children – the three tiny souls full of hope. Jaden couldn’t help but repeat the word in his head. Hope. Hope. Hope. Shaking his head to clear it, he noticed that the middle child – only about six or seven years old – was carefully constructing a bizarre structure out of a set of antiquated dominoes. One of the dominoes, Jaden noted, was badly burned.
Jaden watched, fascinated, as the boy somehow managed to defy the lurching motions of the train and kept his structure upright. It looked like a city – a small city with small houses, but a city nonetheless. He reached for another domino – he had spread them out in front of him – and accidentally knocked one off the table.
As the boy reached down, Jaden noticed that neither he nor his brothers wore shoes.
The train gave an unexpected, huge lurch, and just as the boy was straightening up to resume his creation, it toppled over, the pieces spilling everywhere. His face didn’t change. He still looked intent on his craft. Without a single complaint, he slid under the table and started scooping up his toys before beginning his construction all over again.
Jaden turned from the children, surveying the mostly deserted train car. There were only two other passengers – an elderly man with wispy grey hair who seemed intent on muttering to himself, and across the aisle from him, a young man who appeared to be asleep and could not be older than nineteen.
The old man looked up, meeting Jaden’s eyes. Jaden felt his heart jump – he had seen that look before. Instinct told him he was looking into the eyes of a powerful military veteran. He was both awed and terrified – if he was a German soldier, Jaden could be killed. If he was American, Jaden would be sent back to the front lines.
But the old man gave a tiny nod, seeming to read Jaden’s mind. He hesitated. The man gave a slightly stronger nod. Jaden made a snap decision – one that had the possibility of being fatal – and stood up, walking to where the old man sat.
“Sit,” he said. Jaden obeyed. The old man nodded towards the sleeping teenager to his right.
“That lad isn’t as clever as you are,” he said. “You at least had the sense to change clothes. He’s still in his military uniform.”
Jaden gaped. “How did you-”
“There’s no hiding the look in your eye, son,” he interrupted. “You have served in this war. You have seen the fighting. You have seen death. It’s written all over your face.”
The man spoke with slightly accented English. He traced circles on the table before him using his index finger. He seemed tired, Jaden noted, observing how his shoulders sloped downward and how he hunched over himself as if protecting something important.
“What’s your name, son?”
“Jaden. Jaden Hendrix.”
“Keith,” the older man replied before falling silent again. Jaden sat in tense silence for several moments before his nerves finally snapped.
“You’re not going to report me, are you? Or kill me for deserting?” he blurted.
Keith shook his head. “No. You leave if you want to leave – I’m sure you have a dignified reason.”
Jaden reflexively fingered the photo in his pocket. The old man paid no mind, continuing talking to the table in front of him.
“The consequences are yours, not mine. Be warned, though – being so liberal with your full name could come back to haunt you.”
He nodded again towards the sleeping soldier. “Again, he isn’t so smart. He’s walking around with his name on his chest – how many Witkowskis are in the military? I suggest you take him under your wing. You’re both deserters but you’re clearly the more intelligent, more experienced soldier. Help your fellow man if you’re not going to kill him.”
“But… he’s a German soldier,” Jaden protested, eyeing the teen’s horribly familiar garments. “He could kill me at any time.”
“Look at him,” Keith said sadly. “Does he look like a killer to you?”
Before Jaden had time to respond, a sharp cry broke through their conversation. The middle child’s domino city had fallen again, and his broken sobs said that he’d given up hope.
“Wait here,” Keith said, standing up slowly, picking up the cane from the seat next to him. Jaden half stood to help, but Keith was already on his way down the aisle. Jaden sat slowly back down, glancing over at the young German soldier, who had been awoken by the child’s cries and was looking around, bewildered. Jaden nodded at him before turning in his seat to watch Keith.
He was conversing in low tones with the child. For once, some of the words carried through the car, and Jaden heard the distinct sounds of harsh German. Jaden was shocked – he’d noticed Keith’s accented English but had thought that he was simply from England or some other country like that. But German? He didn’t look German.
Jaden glanced over at the soldier again. He had gone back to sleep now that the child had stopped crying. Turning his attention back to Keith, he watched as the older man produced a small pile of sweets from somewhere within his coat. All three children brightened and reached for the sweets. He handed it to them at a nod from their mother.
Jaden distinctly heard the mother say, “Danke,” or “thank you” in German, and watched in awe as Keith stumped back to his seat.
“Even the natives are forced to flee this place, the most rural of communities,” he said sadly as he sat back down. “War has torn apart that woman’s family – her husband and oldest son were both drafted, both killed. She’s fleeing to France as fast as she can.”
Jaden could only gape.
“Am I… the only American in here?” he said stupidly. Keith nodded.
“What did you expect? You are in Germany, on a German civilian train.”
Jaden stood up.
“I can’t stay here,” he said hurriedly. “I can’t… I’m getting off at the next station.”
“Now why would you do that?” Keith asked.
“Because… because you’re all going to kill me.”
Keith chuckled, surprising Jaden.
“So the American discovers he is in the presence of the ‘enemy,’” he said. “Boy, you listen to the… how do you say? Propaganda of your superiors too much. Not all Germans are dangerous. Only the ones with guns and the intent to kill are so. Do you honestly feel threatened by anyone here?”
Keith waved his arm at the rest of the car. The children were sucking happily on their sweets, their mother cooing to them in soft German. The soldier boy slept on.
“…No. I… I don’t,” Jaden admitted.
“Good. Then sit down. Enjoy a train ride in good company.”
Jaden obeyed, sitting straight, shoulders tensed.
“You have been conditioned to despise and fear Germans, yes? But tell me, Jaden. What do you see here that is any different from your America that you fight so bravely for? Or not so bravely, seeing as how you’re here.”
Jaden thought for a moment. His hand wandered to his pocket for a third time, feeling the comforting edge of the photograph.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Keith said, taking notice this time. “Let me see.”
Jaden pulled out the photograph – it showed a young woman, just barely in the tail end of her twenties. She was beautiful, smiling as an unseen wind whipped her hair around her head like a halo, frozen behind her head in the photograph. She wore a plain white gown, her stomach just barely bulging outwards.
“A girlfriend? A wife?” Keith asked, staring at the photo.
“Wife. Who is quite close to giving birth.”
Keith handed back the photo and Jaden pocketed it.
“She is very beautiful. You are a lucky man.”
Keith reached to his neck, his fingers slipping down his cotton shirt and returning with a fine gold chain in tow.
“I too have a lovely wife to return to,” Keith said, opening the heavy-looking locket on the end of the chain. “No children, though. They have all grown old and moved on. It is just her and I now.”
“She’s equally beautiful,” Jaden said. Keith smiled, tucking the locket away.
“You see? Just because we come from different places does not mean we are so very different.
“Look. All of us are going somewhere, searching for a better life. You are going home to your wife and unborn child. I am going home to my own wife. Those children are searching for a better place to live their lives. And that young soldier is off to get a late start on his own life. And then look out the window and see the reasons why.
“This is what we are forced to do – to give up our lives and flee in search of happiness. Is that not one of the fundamental beliefs of American law?”
Jaden nodded. Keith leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
“I’d like to see America some day,” he said. “It sounds like a wonderful place. Although I fear my old age will prevent me from doing that.”
He paused, a sort of blissful smile across his face. Jaden couldn’t help but stare.
“It doesn’t matter where we’re from,” Keith said after a long while. “We all go the same way home. And that’s what matters.”
Soon after, he fell asleep.
+++
Many hours later, the train pulled into a station in west France, a country free of fighting. It was an allied country – Jaden could take a boat over to England and be safe until he could take another ship back to America.
With only one bag to collect, he was the first ready to disembark the train. He stood waiting at the closed car door, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The German soldier was second. Jaden smiled at him as the younger man came to stand behind him. His eyes turned to the three children and their tired-looking mother, drifting to the boys’ six bare feet. He frowned and stepped back into the car, setting his bag on the nearest seat.
Not trusting his German, Jaden only held out three worn pairs of shoes – they were far too big for the boys and one pair was his old combat boots, but they were better than nothing. He looked pointedly at their mother.
“These are for your sons,” he said slowly, in English. He tried gesturing, but the woman only stared at him blankly.
Much to his relief, Keith came limping up then and translated what Jaden had said to German. A look of comprehension spread across her face, quickly replaced by an expression of gratitude as she took the shoes and bowed low. Jaden waved the favour aside. She handed them to her sons, talking in hushed tones, and delighted looks spread across all three faces. At a stern word from their mum, they each took turns bowing to Jaden and saying “Danke.” Jaden smiled at each as they happily tugged them on, prancing about the train and enjoying their gifts.
“Best of luck to you, Jaden,” Keith said, clapping him on the shoulder as the train’s doors were flung open and he stumped to the exit. Jaden bowed to the woman, gesturing for her to shepherd her boys off the train first.
He hopped the two or three stairs that separated the car from the platform and looked around. All the passengers from his car were streaming away, dispersing amongst the French crowds. Jaden watched them for a moment, his eyes lingering on the young soldier.
Keith’s words reverberated through Jaden’s head, and he made another snap decision.
“Hey, Witkowski! Wait,” he called. The soldier turned. Jaden, not bothering to be surprised that the soldier understood English, jogged to catch up with him. He slung one arm around his fellow soldier’s shoulder and guided him away.
“We all go the same way home,” he said by way of introduction.
“Let me help you.”
I thought I should get you back.
If I did though, shame on me and I apologize. 
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