The Coldest Season in London

Mommy always says not to worry whenever I hear the radio talking about bombings in London. “There’s another London on the other side of the world, my darling. Far, far away from this London,” she always tells me. I really want to see this other London. I wonder if it’s just like my London but upside down!

Every night, she leads my sister and me to the Tube with the pillows and blankets that we are able to carry. I always beg her to let us sleep in our own beds; it’s cold at night and though we wear our jackets under our blankets, I can never get warm enough to sleep much. And sometimes there’s a lot of noise. It sounds really scary, but Mommy says that the noise is just a storm and that it’s good for us to be around other people when we sleep sometimes. She says it makes our community stronger.

Florence gets to sleep between Mommy and me, because she is younger. I don’t think that 6 is that much older than 4, but I am the man of the house so I have to look out for my sister. I became the man of the house when Daddy’s job took him out of London. Mommy says he’s a very important person in the Royal Air Force, and sometimes that means he has to go somewhere else to work. I bet he’s in charge there. I want to be just like him when I grow up!

We always stay in the Tube until well after sunrise. Mommy says it’s so we can enjoy the sun on our walk back whenever it’s out. We always walk really fast and Mommy tells us to close our eyes so she can guide us. She says it makes us closer as a family. When we finally get home this morning, I feel like I will never be warm again, but Mommy makes us some tea and turns on the radio so we can dance. I warm up really fast and we dance around for so long, I feel like my feet are going to fall off!

While we are sitting down for supper, there is a knock at the door. For a second, I think I see Mommy look worried, but I must be wrong because she smiles at us and tells us to finish dinner quickly and get ourselves ready to walk to the Tube. “Whatever you do, my loves, stay away from the door,” she tells us before she goes to see who is here. I can barely see from my seat at the table, but there are a couple of soldiers standing on the porch. They say something to Mommy and it must have been really mean, because she drops to her knees and starts crying. I feel really scared, but I pretend like I’m not so Florence won’t be scared, too.

I make Florence hurry and finish her food, which is hard because she is coughing so much all the time. When she finally finishes, I lead her to our room, making sure she can’t see Mommy. I get Florence to play a game with me to keep her distracted until Mommy feels better. Florence and I are having so much fun that I forget all about the soldiers, and I am surprised when I see Mommy enter the room. She looks really tired.

She sits on the floor with us and takes our hands. She says Daddy got promoted. He’s so good at his job that they need him to stay there forever. She tells us that even though we won’t ever see him again that he loves us very much and we don’t need to worry about him. Florence starts to cry, so I hug her and tell her that it’s okay if we can’t see Daddy anymore, because we can still see him when we close our eyes. Mommy smiles at me and says, “You will always be the man of the house now, George. And what a wonderful man of the house you are.” It makes me feel good to know that I am a good man of the house, but I still wish Daddy could come home.

When we walk to the Tube later that night, Florence is coughing even harder than usual. The medicine Mommy gives her every day doesn’t seem to be helping. Mommy says medicine takes time and that Florence will be better soon, but we go to see the doctor the next day anyway. Mommy says sometimes doctors can make medicine work faster. When we get to the doctor’s house, Mommy takes Florence into a room with the doctor and leaves me standing at the door.

After a long time, Mommy and the doctor come out of the room. They are both turned away from me and they are talking very quietly, but I can still hear them. I hear the doctor tell Mommy that Florence has pneumonia and that if the medicine hasn’t help yet, it isn’t going to. Mommy thanks the doctor and goes to the bathroom. She stays in there for a long time.

When she finally comes out, she comes and stands with me. She squats down so she is my height. She looks really tired again. She puts her hand on my cheek and she tells me that Florence is really sick. And that she isn’t going to get better. When I ask her what pneumonia is, she says it’s the cough. She says we have to make Florence comfortable. She says one day Florence will fall asleep and she won’t wake up.

Our days stay the same, but eventually Mommy starts carrying Florence when we walk to the Tube and back. Florence doesn’t want to play with me anymore. “I’m so tired, George,” she says before another coughing fit. She stops eating dinner with Mommy and me. Mommy says not to worry, that Florence just isn’t hungry right now. Some men dig a big hole in our backyard and Mommy says it’s for a garden. We’ve never had a garden, but I always thought it would be fun.

One night, I am standing at the door waiting on Mommy to get Florence so we can walk to the Tube. Mommy takes a lot longer than usual. When she finally comes, she says that Florence is gone. I ask Mommy where she is and Mommy says that when you fall asleep and never wake up, your body fades so that it can rest, too. I am sad that I couldn’t say goodbye to Florence, but Mommy says that Florence knows that I love her and that’s all that matters.

I think Mommy and I will live like this forever, walking to sleep in the Tube every night. I don’t think it will ever be warm in London again, because it has been cold for so long. But it eventually gets warmer and one day Mommy says we don’t have to sleep in the Tube anymore. I hate sleeping in our room without Florence; it’s really quiet. Mommy gives her toys to another family with a little girl, but she lets me pick out one to keep.

Things change a lot for Mommy and me. We have to learn to spend our days without Daddy and without Florence. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I sit outside of Mommy’s room and listen to her cry. She doesn’t want me to know that she cries every night, but I do. I try really hard to make things as easy for her as I can.

Every year on my birthday, we celebrate with a small chocolate cake that we enjoy while sitting near our garden in the backyard. Now that I’m ten, I know that Mother buried Florence here all those years ago. She has always tried so hard to protect me from the world. I know what pneumonia is now, but I still get nervous every time Mother or I get a cold and start to cough. I guess I will always be afraid of that.

Every once in a while, Mother and I will take a walk together through town and just enjoy being together. I think about Florence the most on these days. On one of our walks, we see a man running through the streets yelling excitedly. When he finally gets close enough, I can hear that he is saying, “HITLER’S DEAD!” Mother falls to her knees crying. She looks happy, sad, and hurt all at the same time. I get on the ground with her and hold her hands while she cries for what seems like forever. When she finally calms down and looks at me, I ask her who Hitler is.