“Yes, I’ve been on the road since the very early morning. Baby, I’m leaving the United Kingdom. There’s a mission I have to lead, and the situation is volatile and ever-changing, along with some unpredictable orders from up the ranks.”
Everett is driving, his words are forming, but I can’t see the look in his eyes. It’s the only way I can determine the level of trouble he’s facing. I assume he’s avoiding eye contact for that reason. “Today?”
“Yes, as soon as I drop you off. I must get back to England by noon. We’re leaving this afternoon.”
“Where are you going, Everett? Can you tell me, please?”
When Everett is nervous, he checks the rear-view mirror more frequently as if someone might be following us, but it’s never the case. I believe it’s his way of avoidance.
“Have you heard anything about your brothers’ whereabouts?”
Everett is changing the subject. He isn’t planning to tell me where he’s going, which is the typical since he’s sworn to secrecy for protection, but it’s just us here in the car. There are no letters going through the mail or tapped connections during a phone call.
“No, Dad said they were safe. That’s all I know. Everett, please tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re going to be moving soon as well. You aren’t to know any of this, Elizabeth. Orders have not come down the ranks yet.”
“What? Where will I be going?”
“We’re both being moved to France,” he says.
With the dream I have always had to travel, this feels like a torturous tease. As a child, I dreamed of visiting the Eiffel Tower, Versailles, the Louvre, but France is not just Paris and I’m sure wherever I’m going won’t be a part of the country I want to be in. Germany invaded France over four years ago and still occupies the country.
“We’re going to be pushing the Germans out, aren’t we?” I ask.
“The military is going to need the support of medical care.”
Everett answers each question with indirect answers, which just stokes the flames of fear running through my mind.
“You’re going to be in danger.” I’m not asking; I’m stating the obvious.
“I have confidence in what we are doing and the team I will work with are trained for the situation we’re facing. You shouldn’t worry about us, but I need you to prepare for a vast change in scenery from what you’ve become accustomed to. Do you recall our conversation about lying about your last name?”
“Yes,” I answer, squeezing my hands together as I watch the blood pool in my fingertips.
“All you have to do is keep your head down and do what’s necessary. There will not be any more USO events. The country is in grave danger and locked down. The rules and restrictions are strict and unyielding, and you mustn’t go outside of the encampment. Promise me, you will stay within US military confines? I know your wild sense of curiosity gets the best of you sometimes, and I would never ask this of you unless it was a matter of life or death, but it is and I need you to follow orders, please, Lizzie.”
Everett must think I have taken liberties over the last two years to fulfill my need for adventure, but truthfully, I have not wandered off anywhere, no matter where I have been. This isn’t the same as looking for a hidden beach in Hawaii or a gem of a view only the locals know about. I’m smart enough to not go looking for trouble in a foreign place.
“Of course, I will follow orders, Everett. You can’t think I would be so reckless and foolish as to act like a tourist in a war-torn country being overrun by the enemy?”
Everett glances over at me for a brief second, and I see the look of anguish in his eyes.
“I know we see life differently sometimes, so I needed to say this for the sake of my sanity.”
“Everett, I will be fine,” I reply with a sharp edge to my words.
I don’t want to feel angered at Everett’s questions or assumptions that I’m not taking the situation for what it is. We’re in the middle of a war, but he must still see me as that free-willed girl, who doesn’t take orders from anyone, running down the beach in Hawaii. “Okay,” he replies.
Silence and heavy breaths take over the rest of our ride. This can’t be the way we leave things. I know his comments and requests came from his heart, but I need to know his safety should be his top concern at the moment. He will be in more danger than me.
“Please do not worry about me, Everett. I need to know that you are going to focus on whatever you are dealing with.”
“Of course,” he says. His words fall short, almost in an authoritative tone.
Everett pulls up in front of the hospital and I’m supposed to step out of the car like this is common and not out of the ordinary for us.
“Okay then, maybe I’ll see you in France,” I say, my words cold and tart.
