by Sylvia Woodham

Created on: June 02, 2010

Sarah watched Charles sleeping. His appearance bore little similarity to hers. His ears were afixed to his head at an angle slightly greater than generally thought geometrically proportionate for the head of a small boy, and he had the dark, thick hair of his father and the bushy eyebrows of the Scotsman. He had a sweet temper and would soon come to accept that there was little he could do to control the events of his life. Protesting would do little to change them. He would be confirmed at the First Presbyterian Church of Bamberg because that is where the Person children had always been confirmed.

Sarah McAllister wondered about fathers, and why they had to be lost.

"He will be starting school come fall."

"Yes. He will." Mrs. Person's hand rested on Sarah's shoulder.

"Tommy and June will take care of him when I go to the Capitol."

"It is better this way, for him to stay in the same school. You can come back when the war is over."

Sarah did not have the words to express what she felt. The job with the Navy was a good opportunity. It would be too much for Charles to move again. Mother was right. This was his home now, and after two years, another transition would be too soon. She would not be able to give him her time and attention while working in Washington, and her sister would see that he attended school with her children and came home to a supervised house each afternoon.

James had been in the Navy. Now she would be, too, in a way. It made her feel close to him again. It would not bring him here now to look after them. It did not stop the fact now that she had to leave Charles to go away to work.

"I hope it will not be too much trouble for them."

"You will still be able to collect his food rations to send them."

Leaving the door open for the early summer breeze to circulate through his room, which had been his uncle's room before him, Sarah walked down the hall. She grasped the banister he would keep polished by sliding down as a boy. Mrs. Person followed her onto the front porch where they looked down Person Avenue as generations had before them. What would her father have done?

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