MARIETTA AND THE MARINE

1955 GRIFFIN, GEORGIA Marietta never knew the pull of such emotions could lead to making such an unwise decision. Miss Abernathy, the school’s most feared instructor, drove Marietta to the railroad station. She was a woman who wore her authority like armor, a stark glare always set upon her sharp features with a knack for finding the smallest transgressions and magnifying them into grand displays of discipline. “Marietta, education requires focus and discipline. See to it you do not ignore its importance to your growth.” There was no kindness in her instructions as she removed Marietta’s luggage from the trunk of the car. “The depot across the street has a bench for you to sit and wait for the train. If you lose your ticket or miss the train you will return to the school. Make sure you stay alert and do not miss this train.” Marietta stood facing the depot, exhilarated, relieved, and laughing nervously as she tossed her hair back. Glancing one last time at her instructor acutely aware of Miss Abernathy’s mask of indifference. Marietta had witnessed the subtle gestures, a lingering glance, a slight hesitation that revealed Miss Abernathy’s concern for her. Deep down Marietta craved her approval and obediently waved as she drove away. Turning toward an all too familiar aroma, she plunged her hand around the handle of her luggage and followed the tantalizing scent of fried chicken coming from The Diner. She knew the hand-painted sign although weathered by the years, in her mind’s eye she saw the red letters crisp against the white wooden background advertising southern food served on a timeless red checkered table. With each step to the train depot her heart adopted a new rhythm, responding to the sights and smells that stirred her joy. She knew this place intimately, each detail echoing the sweetness of its history. Three long gray cars stretched across the sunlit brick-lined street in front of the Sinclair gas station. A memory of her father flashed through her mind, and she saw herself standing on the front seat of her father’s big rig, seeing him fill the tank with gas and laughing at the low roar he would make as he started the engine. Her gaze floated towards the Imperial movie theater where she and her father had watched her first musical Yankee Doodle Dandy. She hurried along drawing the town in like an old friend. With a tentative hand and a sigh that released a thousand memories, she lowered herself gently onto the bench settling back, as if sinking into a beloved storybook long forgotten. The etching was still there. “D&D.” She whispered softly, evoking more faded memories of her walks with her dad. He had carved “D” for daughter and “D” for dad into the bench, marking it as their special spot to watch trains roll in after their movie outing. She looked down at her own hand, now grown, still recalling the warmth and security of her father’s grasp. Without warning, a soft murmur of voices and gentle hum of laughter began to fill the depot pulling Marrietta back to the present. Taking note of the influx of women of all ages, the familiar, mournful whistle of the approaching train commanded their attention. The depot became a blur of activity with Marines spilling out of the passenger cars. Marietta, amused by the unrestrained energy mixed with laughter and cheers, felt a twinge of jealousy wishing she had a family to reunite. Laughter turned to shushing when a solemn group of women dressed in black began navigating across the lively scene. Their tears punctuated their quiet sadness watching Marines solemnly lift flag-draped coffins one by one from the boxcars. The loading into the long grey vehicles was heart-wrenching and cries filled the depot. Marietta held back tears as mournful women dressed in black retreated away from the depot. “How is it that life and death, love and loss, bring so much joy and sadness together?” Momentarily lost in the scene, she didn’t notice the stranger approaching until his voice broke through her thoughts. "I don’t know how to answer that, but I know what you mean.” Clutching her suitcase she tentatively stood. “I must have been thinking out loud." "Hello. Sgt. James Parker at your service.” Marietta continued standing as she raised her hand to his gloved grasp. Unsure of how to properly greet a soldier she attempted to bow. “No need for that. No royalty here. I noticed you were watching tearfully. One of the Marines a relative?” "No. I just got caught up in the moment.” “What is your name?" he asked. “Marietta. Marietta Milassey." she replied, shyly shuffling her saddle shoes. For a moment, the bustling depot seemed to fade, and it was just Marietta and the Marine, sharing a fleeting connection amidst the chaos. Marietta had not had the attention of a man since her father left. Wanting to know more about this uniformed dark haired 6ft handsome man she smiled as she smoothed away the wrinkles from her dress. The rhythmic tapping of metal commanded her attention, as Marines approached to retrieve their sergeant. “It was nice to meet you, Marietta. Would you like to join us at The Diner?” Marietta glanced at her watch telling him no since she needed to catch the train to college. The dungeon of school was a strong reminder to stay on task. Surely, she was too young to dine with men. “The train will not leave without all these Marines.” Marietta watched Sgt. James Parker turns in a commanding fashion leading the men in a synchronized walk-in full military posture. “Wait for me. I changed my mind,” she shouted as they crossed in front of the Griffin General Store. Taking a seat next to Sgt. James, she postured herself upright and laid a napkin across her lap. The sound of laughter in their deep voices had Marietta swooning in her saddle shoes. “Sgt. James, where did all these Marines come from?” “We are the 1st Marine Division under the command of Major General Oliver P Smith escorting the home coming of our brothers who had been missing in action. After expelling them from the train we will return to base in Rhode Island.” “You would never know you fought in a war in that uniform and your shoes shine like new.” “Part of the life of a Marine, ma’am,” answered one marine. “Miss Milassey? Our uniform must pass a dress code and a Marines shoes are spit shined to reflect their face.” “Yes, it is Miss Milassey. But please call me Marietta. My goodness, with shoes polished like that, I reckon you could see the whole battalion’s faces reflected on them. I am sure you weren’t serious when you said you spit on your shoes. Were you?” She could tell by his accent that he was a southern man. “No ma’am, just our way of saying properly shined. How far are you going?” “I am on my way to a college in Connecticut to study nursing. Now that I have graduated, my school has offered to send me to the college that accepted my application. James leaned in and kissed Marietta on the cheek as if to claim his territory. “Oh, my, what was that for?” “Nurses played a critical role in providing support to wounded soldiers and they work in harsh challenging conditions. If you want to be a nurse you must have a strong heart, resilient emotions, and compassion. I could not help myself because those are the very traits I look for in a woman. I hope you did not mind.” “It felt nice. My first kiss.” “That’s surprising. Where did you go to school?” “It’s an all-girls school here in Georgia.” “That explains it. After we eat, I will walk you back to the train and we can get to know each other. Would you like to sit next to me on the train?” Marietta and the marines emerged from the cozy confines of The Diner as the light of the afternoon sun filtered through the clouds. Her laughter spoke volumes of trust and openness, unfurling like a long-held secret now free to dance upon the breeze just as the Conductor yelled. “All Aboard.” Marietta liked the way James called her a woman. Seated on the train the Marines bantered back and forth, swapping between animated war stories and family antics that had them erupt into hearty laughs. The train whistle blew for the third time, echoing through the carriage. James tapped his watch, and glanced out the window, puzzled by how quickly the next stop seemed to be approaching. The train was moving at an unusually slow roll with a rhythm of steel wheels clacking against rails when it suddenly grounded to a halt. The hiss of releasing steam and the conductor swiftly moving through the aisles with a less than calm demeanor heightened James’ palpable tension. Clutching at their fallen belongings, the passengers pressed against the windows as the train reversed. Retreating grassy fields and scattered trees had James exchanging a glance with one of his comrades, both silently acknowledging a heightened sense of trouble. Marietta’s heart pounded with a mix of fear and curiosity as she made her way to the exit of the train car. The scene of the collision unfolded a once formidable 18-wheeler laying crumpled and twisted in a heap of metal. Emergency vehicles flashing lights painted the scene with a cold, blue hue against the Marines uniforms and a stark contrast against the wreckage. Each one working to assist the fire fighters inspecting the truck for hazardous materials and shouting that they found nothing other than the trucks’ fluids of oil and diesel. Among them, she saw James, his face grim as he conferred with a rescue worker. Marietta stepped forward, straining to catch the fragments of their conversation. Her heart skipped a beat as she heard James's voice, steady and clear, repeat the name of the trucker. "The driver's ID says David Edward Milassey," James reported solemnly. Marietta's world tilted on its axis. The air seemed to rush from her lungs, leaving her gasping in disbelief. Her father. The realization hit her with the force of a physical blow, and she stumbled, catching herself on the nearby rail. "Marietta, he’s got a pulse but it’s weak.” James said quietly, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and concern as he realized this may be a relative. “Sir, the license plate twisted like a pretzel but reading the name on the driver’s side of the cab it looks like Park H or something Trucking Company out of Texas. He was hauling steel pipe and equipment.” She had not heard her father’s name in so long she did not trust what she had heard and rushed towards him pushing everyone aside. “Ma’am you need to step back. This is not a sight for a lady’s eyes. Get back into the train.” “Sir, David Milassey? Did I hear you right? Is this man’s name David Milassey? Please, I need to see his face!” “Yes ma’am, his Georgia driver’s license shows that name. Do you know him?” “My father’s name is David Milassey, but he died years ago! Please let me see his face.” Marietta eyed the EMT nurse with such urgency that he stepped aside. She lay eyes on her father’s face trying to recall anything, but this man was much older, with grey hair and a ruddy wrinkled face. It was his long neck with an Adam’s apple that told her it was him. She shifted remembering how he would make his Adam’s apple move up and down when he would shift gears in his rig like a buoy floating on the water. Her laughter bubbled up unexpectedly, uncoordinated with the somber scene, leaving her to blush and glance around with an apologetic smile. “May I see the driver’s license please?” After recognizing the address on the license as her home, Marietta’s mind was a whirlwind of thought as she grappled with the revelation that her mother had lied. Anger and betrayal consumed her, and she found herself cursing her mother, wishing death upon her as if summoning a demon to do the deed. She wasn’t even sure if her mother was still alive. “Your father?” said the Sergeant. She hovered over his face “Daddy, wake up. Can you hear me? It’s Marietta, can you hear me?” Her tears fell on his face as she pressed her cheek against him. Her heart longed for him to speak as she felt his warm wrinkled face. Marietta’s breathing became shallow when she felt him take his last and she cradled her father's lifeless body, her arms trembling as she wrapped him up in an impenetrable shield of her love. Her hand pressed firmly against his still chest, whispering empty promises of safety. Without a word, James reached out and took her hand, grounding her amid her shock. The connection was a small comfort, a lifeline as she struggled to process the swirling emotions. When the emergency responders failed to bring him back to life, Marietta stood beside James, leaning on the strength of her new friend. “I have not seen him since I was a little girl when he disappeared, but Mother told me he died. That is how I ended up in that dungeon of a girl’s home. Mother said she could not afford to keep me because daddy died, and she did not have a job.” “Clear the way please. The transport ambulance needs to get through. Secure the area,” the police sergeant interrupted. The brazenly demanding policy officer made her leave when her whispers turned to screams. The sergeant pulled her away and motioned James to take her back on the train. She fell against his chest but quickly pushed him away as the hard truth hit her again. She would console herself as she always had. With a deep breath, she smoothed her disheveled hair, flicking it back in place with a sense of resolve. She brushed the stubborn dirt from her dress, restoring dignity to her appearance. With the swipe of her handkerchief, she thrust the sweat and tears into her pocket. If she had learned anything in her younger years, adults are not trustworthy; their expertise in deception seasoned by experiences, makes them more convincing. Despite her momentary lapse in composure, she steeled herself to reclaim her strength. She resolved to stay independent, for she had no one to rely on, no one deserving of her trust. She was not going to let this Marine, with his well-intentions, breach the walls she had so carefully built around her heart. “Marietta, drink this water and walk this way back toward the train.” “NO. Thank you. I will walk to the nearest depot and get there on my own. I cannot get back on that train that killed my father.” The medic from the fire station appeared and asked Marietta for her contact information. “Ma’am, can you give me your contact information so we can reach you about your father? Also, I need to take a health assessment from you. You look pale and your breathing is shallow. After my assessment, you can be on your way.” Marietta let the medic have his way. “I do not have any contact information. I am on my way to college.” “Ok then. Give me the name of the college and how long you will be there?” After exchanging information Marietta walked away and did not look back. “Wait a minute. You cannot just take off wandering in the night. You have no idea which direction to go.” said James. “Medic, stop her!” “Would it be possible for me to get a ride to the nearest depot station?” asked Marietta. “James I just need my purse and suitcase. In all the confusion I left it behind.” James dismissed her cold demeaner, climbed aboard the train and talked with his commander. Marietta arrived at the depot and thanked the taxi driver for the pro bono ride. As she walked through the station, she noticed a marine in uniform sitting on the bench. “James?” The two boarded the train but sat in silence until they arrived at The Goodwinaire. “The nursing school has a room for me here.” “With utmost sincerity, I am instructed to stay with you and make sure everything is just as it should be. You have had your fill of surprises today.” “Sgt. James, thank you I will be fine. I need to unpack and try to sleep.” “Marietta, I do not want to leave you alone like this until I know the place is safe.” As James entered the apartment, he paused to let daylight illuminate the space. After one last look around the apartment and nodding at Marietta to come in, he could see she was still struggling with mixed emotions. Although the room was fully furnished, it was a blank canvas of unwelcome solitude. “Marietta, we will stay in contact, and I will reach out to meet you. I want to stay in touch.” Stepping around her luggage, Marietta moved around the room one last time before leading James to the door. As she took a step towards him, her heart raced with the intensity of the moment. He turned away, but not before meeting her with a gentle touch, his hand resting softly on her arm—a silent acknowledgment of the connection they shared. Desperation filled the space between them, laden with unspoken words and they shared a kiss. Kicking off her saddle shoes she led him into the bedroom in shared silence. The sound of his footfalls echoed softer, and with a heavy sigh Marietta sank to the floor, like a torn tent, and groaned in the absence of her virginity. Marietta never knew the pull of such emotions could lead to making such an unwise decision.