Page 3 of Severed Heart
“We have to go now!” the man shouts from my door. “I’m not dying for your kid, Matis!”
“I need you to go with this man and do what he tells you,” Papa says, lifting me from my bed. He walks over and puts me into the man’s arms, handing him my suitcase with the wildflowers that look like the flowers we dance in. The man stares down at me, and I decide I don’t want to follow orders tonight, but Papa shushes me.
“I’m begging you ... bring her to my nephew. Francis will raise her as his own. Please get her there safely,” he tells the man. “I’ll pay you any price you ask.”
“As if you’ll survive,” the man tells Papa. “Making promises you can’t keep is what got you in this mess, Matis.”
“Forget how you feel about me, just this once,please.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” He talks funny when he doesn’t speak French. Papa told me these people are called the British.
“Papa, I don’t want to follow orders tonight. My head hurts,” I tell him, and he jerks his chin to quiet me.
“Here.” Papa puts a roll of money in the man’s hands. “This is all I have. I was trying to save enough to get her out of here, but I don’t understand ... why aren’t they here?” Papa starts to cry again.
“Even now, you’re still maintaining the lie?” the British man says.
“I don’t have time to argue with you,” Papa sighs, wiping his face.
“You could try to run,” he tells Papa before looking at me like I’m filthy, “and save me the headache.”
Papa shakes his head. “It’s too late. They’ll never stop now. Above all else, just make sure you aren’t followed.”
“For old times’ sake, Matis.” He looks at Papa like he’s filthy too. “Honestly, those bastards are doing us all a favor by ridding the world of you, and you have my word that if it’s within my power, no harm will come to her tonight. Though for that to be a possibility, we have to leave right fuckingnow.”
“P-papa?” I whisper, looking at the man and back to Papa. I donotlike this man or the way he talks to my papa, but he nods to the British man before he looks down at me, his eyes getting redder.
“I love you, little flower,” he whispers before bending and kissing my head next to where it hurts so much. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Forgive me.” Papa does the sign of the cross on my forehead with his finger, closes his eyes, and speaks English to the British man. “Take her. Go.”
“N-no, no, Papa!” I scream as the man starts to walk away, and Papa cries into his hands. “Papa, no, no orders tonight. Please!” I shout, feeling sleepy again as the man holds me tighter to him, walking faster.
“P-please, Papa!” I wiggle in the man’s arms. “I’m ready to beyour soldier,nothis!” I shout over the British man’s shoulder as Papa comes out of my room and grabs my hand, following the man holding me down the hall.
“Close your eyes, Delphine,” Papa orders me so I won’t see the men he delivered death to in the living room. Closing my eyes, I hold Papa’s hand really tight so he can’t let go. When we are outside, snow hits my nose and cheeks, and the wind makes my head hurt more. “I’m sorry I didn’t go to the barn. I’m sorry,” I tell Papa. “I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll follow orders,yourorders!”
“Wait,please... one more minute,” Papa cries to the man.
“Enough with the melodrama, Matis! It’s probably already too late!”
Papa cries harder and follows us down the creaky porch steps before kissing my hand. “Remember what I taught you?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Remember, little flower. Remember everything I told you. Never forget!”
“I’ll remember, I promise!”
Closing his eyes, Papa kisses my hand one more time before he lets it go, and I scream for him as the British man starts to run with me in his arms. Papa calls after me through the snow and tells me that it’s okay. That it’s all going to be okay and to go with the man—that he will keep me safe. That he loves me. That I’m his good soldier. That he’s sorry, but he cries the whole time! If everything is okay, he wouldn’t cry so hard!
“No! Papa!” I slap the British man’s face, and he curses and drops my suitcase. It falls open on the ground as the man puts me into his car. I kick at him over and over as he gathers my clothes, cursing as he pushes my legs and suitcase inside. “Papa, please don’t let him take me! I’m sorry I didn’t go to the barn! I’m sorry!”
“Delphine, be my soldier and do as you’re told!” Papa yells through the wind, but I can’t see him anymore through so much snow! The man slams the door on me as lights flash through the window of his car.
“They’re here!” the man calls back to Papa before he gets into the car.
“Get her out of here!” Papa yells, and the man starts to drive away before I throw up on the floor.
“Oh, bloody fucking hell,” the British man says, his eyes on the lights coming through the glass before a loud bang comes from the house behind us. I know that sound. Papa is shooting from his big,biggun. The cars with lights have more bad men coming, and Papa is shooting at them to stay away. He’s fighting again.
