Heart Eaters - The Begining -

Heart Eaters

Kansas 1945



The bright, early morning sun streamed in the spotless window. Lucy opened her deep blue eyes and heaved a sigh. There had been a time when she thought sleep would help her escape the pain, but she quickly found it only served to intensify her agony.

Lucy thought over her day and the things she needed to accomplish, but she did not move. All she wanted was to die. Her eyes bore holes in the bottle on her bedside stand. It was always there, sleeping pills. It was shortly after she heard the news that the drug had made a home there. It would be so easy, Lucy thought. The doctor had warned her that an overdose could be fatal, permanent sleep. That’s what she really wanted, permanent sleep. No not sleep! She thought. She couldn’t handle dreaming of him forever; dreaming of all the ways he could have died. Fresh images from her sleep danced through her mind, Robert dead, cold, rigid. He had been so proud of his new issue, dark olive, drab M-1935 uniform, but now thoughts of it stained with the blood of other soldiers he had saved harassed Lucy, the image was like being stabbed. Imagining, his standard issue metal helmet fallen to his side caused her first tears of the day. She knew they would come. Lucy didn’t fight the ach anymore.

Maybe he was shot in the head, she thought, imagining the bullet soaring through the air and piercing his brain. Maybe it was a mortar that cast his parts all over the bank of the Rhine River. Maybe dysentery while in one of those vile German prison camps. Lucy imagined his frail, emaciated body succumbing to the demon disease. She lifted his picture from the bedside stand. When they had gotten married he had worn his Military uniform and she had liked it then. His olive, thigh length jacket pulled together around the waist had been most appealing. His two silver bars boasting proudly his position as Captain, had filled Lucy with pride but no longer. Now every time she lifted his picture to her breast all she could remember about him was the day he had left and the day the army had showed up at the door.

“Good morning Mrs. Hale,” the young army courier had greeted. Lucy swallowed hard, all blood draining from her face. She could tell the young man struggled to remain smiling, but that is what he had been trained to do. She did not respond. “Mrs. Hale,” he ventured again gently.

“Mm,” Lucy cleared her throat. “What can I do for you sir?”

“I come on behalf of the U.S. government to inform you that your husband Captain Robert Hale has been declared MIA.”

“What!” Lucy blurted. “Missing in action, for how long? He is not dead? Where was he last seen?”

“Mam, Captain Hale and his team were sent on a reconnaissance mission for Operation Market Garden. We found his entire team dead, except him and one other man two days after their departure. That was two months ago to the day.”

“So there is hope?” Lucy asked softly.

“There is Mrs. Hale, but I am required to inform you that the chances he is still alive are minute.”

Lucy snapped from the memory, her mind racing the ten months from then to now and reached for the bottle of pills. “Why not?” she asked aloud. Then noise from the kitchen reminded her.

Knock, knock, knock, came at her door. The door squeaked as Violet pushed it open. “Mother,” Violet said softly.