Going on a Holiday

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Going on a Holiday

By Carol A. Keefer

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“All aboard” the Porter bellow across the platform while those of us gathered around waiting to board this “magical carpet” to designations yet are unknow. As looked back to my mum and older brother, wearing his uniform looking all but handsome. As I imaged what my father would of have looked like if her hadn’t passed away during the beginning of the war   War some say is a “nasty business” while others look at War as a time to defend your “homeland” while I being a child only twelve looks at War altogether different. For me war is a nasty business one that separates family and destroys all that is “good” in the land. Needless to say, that I have now join the countless of children being sent off to distant relations. Not like a normal “holiday” full of fun and excitement but rather full of uncertainty and a small sense of fear. 

With my name secure on my favorite red coat, the one that my mum brought for my birthday, an extraordinary gift as my brother put it. While I view it as a “good-bye” gift for in my young heart, I believe that this would be the last time to see them. As a young boy pushed me forward, I turned around and said rather rudely “Watch it!” not paying attention to those who were in front of me. As I looked once more back to where my mum and brother Phillip stood like statues carved in stone. 

“All aboard!” the Porter bark, as we like cattle moved forward and boarded the train. As I approached this huge man he said “Ticket please”, reaching down in my pocket I gave him my ticket. “Come on now, lass” as his hand helped me up the steps into this “magical carpet” he handed me to a soft-spoken man as he offered to carry my suitcase. “Thank you, sir,” as he took me to a small room with two couches. Once there I looked out into a sea of people who waved to those of us who are now being sent away on a “holiday.”   The door creak as it open where a young girl about my age with her little brother, about four years old.

“Hell-o” I quickly said as I reached out my hand towards her.

“Hell-o” the girl shyly said as she pulled up her brother onto her lap. As he started to cry, Phillis, which was the name that was attached to her thinly brown coat. Tried her best to quite him by

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sweetly singing nursery rhythms. “I miss mommy” he sobs “I know my dear Tommy” Phillis gently said as she held him tightly on her lap.  Looking out the window I thought about my mum and brother Phillip as I tried to keep myself from crying. “After all,” I thought “I’m just going on a holiday?”  Closing my eyes as I try to drown out Tommy’s sobs.  Imagining that I am back home with my mum and brother as we pack a basket for a picnic in the park. The sun was bright with a sweet breeze as my mum spread out our blanket on the cool grass. They were happy times as we spent times going out on different holidays. She would talk about my father as Phillip would fill in the parts that our mum had forgotten over the years. He was bout a child of ten or so when our father lost his life. Hearing the stories brought me closer to a man that I never got to know for I was barley old enough to remember him. 

The floor of the train rumble as the wheels sail over the tracks that spread across the land. As the car gently rocked back and forth as little Tommy fell fast asleep. Phillis, his sister kissed his forehead as she smiled “Hell-o, my name is Phillis”

“Yes, I know” as I pointed to her named sewed on her coat.

“Oh”, as she looked down at her coat and smiled.

“Where are you and your brother Tommy going?

“We’re going to live with our distant relations in Newbury,” as Phillis continued, “What about you?”

 “I’m going to my Uncle in Kingwood”

As the train traveled taking us further away from our homes in London, gone are the days of playing with friends, time with our families. Throwing us into a world of the unknown one of both full of fear and excitement. We share stories about our families, Phillis and Tom are from a family whose parents are laborers. Her mum works in the local hospital, while her father works in the local store.  I shared about my dad died at the start of the war, while my mum taught school, and my brother who had joined the arm forces. She was a most delightful girl

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with bright pale eyes and long curly brown hair while little Tommy’s hair was a sandy-brown and dark eye.  Time passed by quickly as I started to get hungry, pulling down my suitcase I pulled out my lunch that was wrapped inside one of my mums’ scarf. Taking a bite of my rye bread I noticed that Phillis lick her lips, “Would you like a bite?” I politely asked. With a nod, I broke off two pieces, one for her and the other for Tommy. She smiled saying “Thank-you” with a mouthful of bread. I then shared the rest of my lunch, a block of cheese and an apple.

“A feast for Kings and Queens” I said as we laughed. While the Porter walked by announcing our next stop “Newbury Station” knocking on the doors “Newbury Station” as his voice echo down the halls on the train.  The train slowed down as it stops at the station to leave off its’ many passengers as we hugged and cried before Phillis and Tommy left to go and live with one of their nearest relations.  I watched with anticipation watching who will pick them up, “I hope that the person who they live with will be “nice”. A rather large lady and a smaller man came up to them after briefly speaking, from what I was able to tell, left together in an old car. As the car carried away two of briefs friends to an “holiday” of their own. 

With a jerk and a jolt this “magical carpet” carried me away once again past the small cluster of houses, and stores into the countryside.  When again the door crack open and in walked a young lady, probably around fifteen years old. She carried herself as if she was way older then her years. With a slight smile she spreads her skit before she sits down smoothing out the wrinkles. Tying hard to appear as “a woman of the world” she powders her nose; with a click it goes back into her purse.

“Hell-o” as I politely said, “My name is….” as she interrupts me in the middle of my speech.

“I don’t care who you are or what your name is” she sternly said, “I don’t want to here in the first place and if I had my way I would of have been married by now.” And with that she looks out of the window not paying anymore attention to me as if I was a pesky little bug.   So, as this train starts moving faster to our next designation my mind wandered off back to simple carefree days of my youth.  With every minute that passes takes me further from home.

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Feeling hungry I took out the other piece of rye bread and the rest of the cheese when I noticed that young lady watching me as I turn away from her stares. “Afterall”, I muttered to myself “She was rude to me so why should I care if she’s hungry or not?” But as hard as I tried to ignored the stares from her, I could hear my mum’s voice saying “Margret, now you know that you really need to share with those who are less fortunate”

Clearing her throat “I’m… um…., I’m sorry for being rude” I pretended not to hear her and kept on eating as she again said “I’m very sorry”, as she continued, “My name is Mary” I did my best to ignore her, however, I kept on hearing my mum’s voice reminding me to share. In complete frustration, I finally gave up and offered Mary a piece of rye bread along with some cheese.  “Thank-you” Mary said as she takes a bite of bread with cheese. As we quietly finished up my lunch, I could tell that she was starting to relax and her false confidence melt away like snow on a warm winter’s day.   Mary started to tell me her story.   It turned out that her boyfriend enlisted into the service and they planned to run off to get married, however, her mum found out and decided to send her away to her grandmothers. Far away from home and her hopes of marrying her boyfriend Edmund.  

“So that’s how I ended up here on this train” Mary said with disdain voice

“Mary, pardon me, but how old are you?” I quietly asked

“I’m fourteen going on fifteen” Mary in a matter of fact tone.

“Oh” I said, then added “I’m twelve”

Once more silence fell between us as we looked out the window just as the sun started to set in the western crisp sky. My thoughts took me back to a time before the war, a time of innocence that disappeared into the darkness like a magical trick.  That left an emptiness in my mum’s heart with the lost of my father, even though she did her best to move pass her loneliness to on a new role; one that sent me on an adventure into the unknown.

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As the train rumble onward past homes with families sharing a mealtime; here I am on my way to an Uncle that I have never met. “Why mum?” I asked as I watched her as she carefully packed my suitcase. Taking time from packing my suitcase, she sat down next to me on my bed as she searched for something to say; “Because I love and want you to be safe” With that she went back to finished packing my clothes.   All I could do was watched her as she folded and refolded some of my favorite things before, she added three pieces of rye bread and some cheese. “Just in case” my mum said as she kissed my forehead.

“Excuse me?” Mary said as she interrupted my thoughts. “I was wondering if you have any more cheese?

“What!?” I quickly answered

“Um…, I would like to know if you happen to have any more cheese?” she softly asked. 

Shaking my head “no” I answered wishing that I had just a small piece to nibble on. Once again as the train slowed down to our final destination as the Porter’s voice echo throughout the train.

“Kingwood Station” as he repeated “Kingwood Station” as he politely knocked on our door. As the train pulled into the station, as I said my good-byes to Mary. Picking up my suitcase I walked out of our cabin and down the aisle leaving one part of my journey and into the next. I said good-bye to the Porter stepping down the steps from the “magical ride” into a world of the unknown. 

To what places I do not know I only hope that were ever my “holiday” has lead me will someday take me back home.

The End.