Fire Within

By Alyssa Williams

World War 1 has just begun. The Smithe family must navigate through the world as it is now. Follow their journey throughout the war and their lives after.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716139413

Book preview

Fire Within

Fire Within

By Alyssa Williams

It Begins

A fire crackled and popped seemingly fighting to drown out the pitter patter of the rain just outside the townhouse window. The ferocity of the fireplace gave a sweet ambiance to the room while a slight aroma of cinnamon wafted in from the kitchen.  Children played while parents and grandparents enjoyed cigars and brandy. The light murmur of chatter mixed in with joyful giggling created a quiet reserve throughout the room, until an abrupt buuuuzzz from the telephone interrupted it.

Asquith residence….Yes, sir, squeaked the aging maid. Her wrinkled hand gently placed the receiver to the dock and looked toward the family room. She beckoned toward Lord Henry Asquith. Sir, there is a call for you. Lord Asquith, slightly startled at the change in the room, stood from his large armchair and went to the telephone.

Yes? I understand. I will be there shortly. Lord Asquith returned the receiver to its dock and glanced back at his family, sighed and called to the butler. Charles, call the trap around.  The butler nodded and immediately began the task. Lady Asquith jumped to her feet quickly and scurried to her husband, as he put on his raincoat.

Darling, is something wrong? She whispered and adjusted his coat collar. He shook his head and reached for his umbrella.  Lady Asquith furrowed her brow. She had grown used to Her Majesty taking precedence over their lives but it didn’t soothe the sting of her husband rushing off at a moments notice.

Sir, the trap is ready, reported the butler as he opened the front door. Lord Asquith marched forward opening the umbrella to shield himself from the London rain. He paused for a moment on the doorstep and turned to his obviously frustrated wife.

I am sorry, dear. But it seems our country is officially at war. He trotted down the last few steps and entered the trap.

God help us, muttered Lady Asquith as she watched the vehicle rush off into the rain.

1919

The ground was scarred from the war that consumed the Earth just several years before. Man-made craters carved by bombs and tanks riddled the land of multiple countries. Even though the fighting had been over for some time, the makeup of the planet had been changed and looked as if the war was still raging on. The land had barely begun to heal what it could. Hills covered in patches of wildflowers and dirt. Breezes went straight through trees with gaping holes left by tanks. An unnatural silence deafened the fields where so many had been forced to eternally lay to rest. German and English, slain and buried in an unwelcoming place.

Those who survived lived in fear of anything that slightly resembled another invasion. A large military transport rumbling down the dirt road or the uniformed marching from a herd of sheep could wake even the heaviest of sleepers from their bed.  Fear made the world seem dark and unforgiving as cities began to rebuild the damaged homes and broken families. The dead left behind loved ones that preferred isolation. Forced to become outcasts out of fear.

Eva was one such person. Only five years ago, she was admired by many in her town as an unmatchable beauty. Seemingly unfit for farm life, she filled the air with grace and poise. Her wavy hair shone in the light, and her youthful skin made many envious. It seemed like such a distant memory.

Sadness and guilt weighed on her heart and quickly robbed her of life and youth. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the memories she had suppressed came to the forefront of her mind. You’re tough. Stop it, she barked, This is how they win. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Eva took a deep breath. You are safe here.

Looking out upon the field, she could sense the serenity of her land. Here, the deer hopped through the opening of the woods, occasionally appearing in the grass. Crows cawed while they hid in the trees that lined her property. Eva shifted her stance as she stood in the tall, dry grass. Her long-sleeves, high-waisted trousers, and boots protected her skin from ticks. It wasn’t the most flattering attire but its practicality outweighed the fashion. You need to finish this work, she lectured herself as she returned focus to her wood cutting.

Using all her might, she lifted and swung the large axe in her hands at the block of wood planted in front of her. Eva grunted when the sharp blade barely missed the wood and stuck itself firmly in the ground. Exacerbated, she yanked the axe from its spot, but her hands slipped from the handle and made a large gash in her left hand. She pulled her hands back to assess the damage.

A single stream of blood streamed down a wrinkle in her hand. Luckily she had a handkerchief in her back pocket which she tied around the wound. My hands are disgusting, she muttered as she examined her hands more carefully. They were covered in dirt and blisters from the manual labor she had come to know in the last few years. She let out a deep exhale. Her warm breath made visible puffs in the cold air.

This has been the coldest day in a long while, Eva thought to herself. A drop of sweat fell down her back causing a shiver down her spine. Her lungs stung from the bitterness in the air but she knew that she had to work through it.  Along with the frigid temperature, a dense fog had settled quickly over the land making the small down and vast woods disappear.

She was glad that the town was no longer visible to her. It had been many years since she had set foot there.  Even if her home wasn’t outside the walls, she would have preferred to have been far away from their watchful eye.

Providence had been in existence for hundreds of years but had thus remained unchanged by the passing of time. The town rebuked anything different and hated those who could think for themselves. As she aged, her eyes had been abruptly opened to their obstinate attitude toward all that was good and pure. Providence was a backwards town, stuck in the past century. The roads weren’t paved and, honestly, there would have been a riot if anyone had tried to bring the town into the twentieth century. There would be burnings at the stake.  The town itself was encased by a large wall built two hundred years prior. It was a small and unwelcoming sight that barricaded itself away from any passerby.

One hundred and fifty inhabitants were ruled by the patriarch, Frank Lancaster. The followed anything Frank said as though it came directly from the heavens above. In fact, Frank Lancaster was the very man that caused her current condition and isolation. How I wish I could…. Eva sighed. Revenge was not hers to be taken and it never would be.

The large patch of fog hung around the walls keeping the town from being seen. It was like the fog had erased them from the fasciae of the Earth and Eva was glad to be rid of them, if only temporarily. That’s nice, she thought as she made her way back into the house with the kindle, a world all to myself. Where I can be whoever I want. Everything would be erased…almost like it never happened. The slippery ground sloshed with every step she took and broke off several small blades of grass onto her boots. As she entered through the door, Eva looked around her empty home.

Her home was a modest two story void of happiness and luxury. Her front door led directly into the kitchen which connected to the small and bare sitting room. Just to the left of the front door, sat a wooden chair against the wall. Her father would use it to switch the shoes on his feet. He had working shoes and house shoes, and neither could be switched for the other. Working shoes were definitely not allowed to soil the wooden floor of the house.

Although, that was not a recent worry for Eva. Since the war began, she had but one pair of shoes now and they were used wherever shoes were needed. She laughed at the thought of how angry her father would have been to see her disregard his rule. That was one thing she remembered fondly about her father. He was very particular about his habits. It was comforting to have a good memory to drown out all the bad ones that haunted the home.

Next to the chair, was a cooling unit filled with the meat from the animals Eva hunted. It had become necessary for her to be self-reliant. Ever since her access from the town had been barred, hunting and gardening was the only way to survive. She placed a few pieces of wood in a basket near the stove then moved into the sitting room, placing what was left in the fireplace.

The sitting room was plain, only furnished by a large stack of books and a chair. The bookshelf that had once held her father’s beloved books had been dismantled. The books had remained and were stacked near the staircase. Eva ran her hand along the rose printed paper that lined the walls, faded and peeling. She had never really noticed until now that even the windows had faded in a way. The glass was scratched and cloudy from dirt, no longer graced with the blue curtains that had hung for so many years. She couldn’t remember whether it was sold or used for clothing. Either way, the war made it necessary to decide whether necessity or sentiment mattered more.

Eva was luckier than most, which wasn’t saying much. Luxurious poverty, Eleanor called it, Eva reminisced. Sure, she didn’t have many earthly possessions, but she was independent. Something women weren’t really afforded for the most part. He would have been proud, thought Eva. Before he left, her father didn’t seem to believe that she was capable, but how she proved him over the years. Eva looked out the clouded window to see a small hare hop across the field. There was a dirt road that ran alongside her home that led to the closest city.

That is the road to freedom, and for the life of me, I don’t know why I stay here. Eva turned away, placing her back against the wall, and sliding down to sit. She couldn’t look out that window anymore and dream of what could have been.

She knew she had to learn to be content with her life. Ever since Eleanor had died and her father had gone missing during the war, Eva was alone in the world. The last time she had seen her father, she was in this very spot. He walked out the door and was never heard from again. All the military knew was that he was missing in action. They never truly searched for him or his body.  When the telegram first arrived, it bothered her. It was harder not to know, but as the days dragged on, it wasn’t as difficult. She accepted that she would never know.

Eleanor’s death was harder. She had buried the old woman on her own and the ceremony wasn’t much. In a fit of confusion and grief, Eva dug a plot in the garden. She said a few nice words, laid some flowers on the makeshift grave, but that was all. The spot was chosen because that had been where Eleanor had spent most of her time. Countless hours spent pruning and talking to the flowers. Eleanor was a firm believer in the idea that speaking in a positive tone towards the garden encouraged the plants to grow stronger.

The old woman had been such a guiding light to Eva throughout her life. However, towards the end, Eva felt as if she were much too old for a nanny.  Elbows off the table, young lady, Eleanor would order. Eva in all her stubbornness would plant her elbows firmly on the table with her head propped up in her hands.

You realize I am eighteen now, correct? I can sit this way if I want. The talk back would result in a wooden spoon to the forearm of both arms until Eva relented and removed them from the table. Eleanor would waddle over towards her and, with a short exhale, smacked the young woman.

The old woman was short and round. By the time Eva was thirteen, she had grown well past Eleanor in height. Her grey hair was always pinned in a perfect bun with small curly strands escaping at the nape of her neck. Whenever Eva retorted commands with sass, her eyes would squint accentuating the wrinkles near her eyes. Despite her age and slow pace, if Eva had ever needed her, she could move faster than a track and field athlete.

Once when Eva was very young, about six or so, she remembered falling outside while playing at the edge of the wood. She had scraped her knee ever so slightly, drawing a little blood. It wasn’t much to make a fuss over but to a six year old, it was the mark of death. As soon as her wailing started, Eleanor was already running up to her. With all the might of Hercules, the old woman scooped up the young girl and rushed her into the house. She cleaned and dressed the wound while comforting the girl. There now, Eleanor reassured in a deep, soothing voice, it’s all better.

It was strange how easily raising children came to Eleanor given that she never had a chance to have children with her husband. He had died at a young age from pneumonia and she had never remarried.  Despite her lack of children, her warmth and motherly instincts made her invaluable.

Circumstances being what they were, it wasn’t a complete shock to Eva when Eleanor passed. She was much too old. No one could have survived as long as she did, Eva said to herself, She didn’t deserve such a cold death. She had only fallen victim to the hatred of Providence.

The people of the town were predators lurking in every shadow. One moment they would stand by your side and in the next, ruining your reputation just to advance theirs. It had been so long since Eva experienced kindness from the heart. To avoid their judgmental gaze, she had taken to locking herself into her home. She hadn’t allowed any visitors for many years now, but that hadn’t stopped them from intruding in some way. For Eva, her home was the safety net from the harshness of human interaction and staring. It burned her skin the way people would look at her. Wandering eyes gazed towards her property as jaded housewives speculated about Eva’s sinful lifestyle.

Rumors were quick to spread as many traveling men would suddenly disappear from sight after visiting her home. Honestly, the state of her property didn’t help squelch the rumors. Skinned animals hung from the shed, the grass was dry and brittle, and the outward decay of the home, made people believe she was some kind of witch. The less creative minds however, pegged Eva as some kind go prostitute selling her worthless body to weak men. Either way, their tongues spoke rumors of her that she had little time or energy to care about.

Eva picked up a book and opened the cover. The pages were worn and smelled of dust. Pride and Prejudice was her father’s favorite novel. He would read this over and over again. She was sure that he had every word locked away in his memory. The tale of endless love had caught his fancy and fed his romanticized idea of happy endings. Eva let out a sigh, and continued back into the kitchen.

As she entered the room, she couldn’t help but stare at her front door. Its edges were frayed and splintered. This false guardian had been forced open all too often in the past years. It was like a beacon to men who found asserting themselves and their strength against a woman, significantly smaller than they, the type of confidence booster needed. Their ego brought them to Eva’s doorstep and their cockiness sent them to the grave. Armed with a Mauser Gewehr 98, she would greet any who came into her home looking to force themselves upon her. Too many nights, she was beaten almost to the brink of death. Eva didn’t enjoy killing, but it was necessary. She tried to replace the locks but after each break in, Eva slowly gave up on fortifying her home and focused on gaining armaments.

She had only a hunting rifle to defend her and she was lucky to have found that. It was a heavy but suitable companion compared to the lock. The lock stationed on the door seemed to mock her. It was all too easy for a man to break it down. The gun on the other hand was always at the ready to defend from any intruders.

Eva reached down opening the stove, placing wood inside to start a fire. As the flames enveloped the wood, she gazed deep into the light, and couldn’t help but think of her own mortality. If I died, right here and now, would anyone come looking?  She slammed the door shut to the oven, trapping her worries inside to burn alongside her regrets. Loneliness was a punishment she would serve dutifully.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye suddenly. She was a mere echo of her former self. Only twenty-three years of age yet her visage was that of an old maid in her mind. She stretched her skin back attempting to turn back the clock erasing years of abuse it has taken. Useless. What does it matter to dwell on the past? It is over and gone. I cannot change that now. Eva removed the pot of stew she had prepared from the flames and poured it into a bowl.

As she set it on the table, her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Instinctively, she ran to her gun that was set in the corner near the opening of the sitting room. Backing into the corner, she raised her gun with confidence. Her heart raced as the steps got closer. Her eyes remained fixed on the door