Page 28 of The Singing Trees
Emma glanced over, and Annalisa squeezed her shoulder tighter. Not unlike Annalisa, she wasn’t eating. Annalisa suspected her excuse that she’d snacked before they’d left the house to be a lie. You can’t fool someone who’d walked in the same shoes.
The cashiers and the patrons in line and every diner in the booths went quiet, a silence that screamed of all that they’d been going through since the war had begun. Everyone in that restaurant—heck, everyone in Maine and even the entire country—was trying to go on about their lives like things were normal, but they weren’t. Nothing was normal. This war was a shadow no one could ignore.
Annalisa glanced at the piece of paper. Everyone she loved was safe for now, but then she thought of all the men who’d been born on September 14, who had just been clipped at the knees, all the men who would be sent off to fight a war that more than half the country didn’t believe in. She could feel all of them, their hearts either frozen or roaring.
“I don’t know if I can watch this,” Thomas admitted, stirring a fry in ketchup. He looked like he had a stomach bug. “Three hundred and sixty-four more capsules...Jesus. Maybe we should get out of here.”
Annalisa shook her head. “No, this is important. We can’t walk away and pretend it’s not happening. What do you think, Emma?”
As Annalisa had noticed previously, Emma had an uncanny ability to completely check out from a situation and was startled when she realized they were staring at her. “What?”
Annalisa caught her up. “I think we need to stay; don’t you?”
Emma clasped her hands under the table and rocked back and forth. “You’re probably right.”
It was a long, agonizing event, this draft, and Annalisa listened to each date as if they were playing Russian roulette, the muzzle of a gun pressed to each young man’s temple. The three of them quieted, caught up in the action on the screen, only the occasional glance at customers coming and going.
Thomas was born on November 6. When they selected a date close to his, Annalisa felt like someone had struck her in the back. Tears welled up in her eyes, showing her just how much she cared for him. Emma looked equally worried.
Thomas turned to both of them. “Close one, huh? Don’t worry, guys. They’ve never taken anyone out of Weston.”
Though he may well have been right, as Weston was one of the best schools in New England, it didn’t make Annalisa feel much better. She closed her eyes and said a prayer, promising God she’d never miss church again if He would keep Thomas and her cousins out of this war.
During a commercial, after sixty capsules had been drawn, Thomas excused himself to the restroom. Annalisa was still uneasy, but at least he and her cousins weren’t in that first group. From what the talking head had said, maybe only half the numbers would be called in the following year.
Emma stayed close to Annalisa, their shoulders touching. She said, “You seem like you’ve come a long way toward liking my brother after not being into him at the game.”
“Yeah, well...I wasn’t. I mean, I’m...” Annalisa took the opportunity to be honest. “My home life was pretty tough before my parents died, so I don’t have much belief in happily ever afters. Would you believe he’s the first guy I’ve ever kissed?”
Emma’s eyebrows pinched together. “Really? But you’re so pretty. Don’t guys ask you out all the time?”
“That’s very nice of you, but I make it pretty clear I’m not interested.” She raised her hand as if she were giving an oath. “I’m not the dating type and never thought I’d have a boyfriend.”
Emma scratched the table. “Me either. But he’s persistent, isn’t he?”
“The most persistent,” Annalisa said. “And you know what? Unless you know something I don’t, he seems like a good guy.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Emma said, “Every girl in Davenport is jealous of you right now; that’s for sure. As far as a brother, he’s the best.” Out of the blue, she looked sheepishly toward the restroom door and said, “Can I ask you something? Don’t tell Thomas I said anything, okay?”
Annalisa touched Emma’s arm. “Of course.”
“How are you so confident and happy? You and my brother seem like nothing ever gets you down. I’m...” She stopped and shook her head.
Annalisa took her hand this time. “I am flattered that you think that, but...” She pointed to her own head. “There’s a lot going on in here. I’m still very much torn up over how my father treated my mother, and how she let him walk all over her. As far as the crash, I think about it all the time. Every day.”
Emma’s eyes, like little moons, begged for a better answer. “How do you do it then? It’s like you just bounced back from all that.”
“I guess I’m good at hiding it.” She wanted to offer Emma some advice but wasn’t sure what to say. Then it hit her, and she chose to be completely transparent. “No, that’s not exactly true. If it weren’t for mypainting, I’m not sure I would be here. To be honest, your brother’s had something to do with it too.”
She could see Emma’s wheels spinning and asked, “What’s going on with you?” She saw a younger Annalisa in Emma, the one who’d put her hand on the casket of her mother’s grave and wished that she’d been in the car with them when it crashed.
“I don’t know,” Emma admitted. “I’m having a hard time. I feel so trapped at home, but I have nowhere to go.”
Having been in this spot, Annalisa thought maybe she could help. “What are you passionate about?”
“I don’t have any passions.” Her voice was monotone.
Annalisa wasn’t sure that was true. “You like music, right?”
