#sbtl

Charlie opened her eyes after what felt like a few seconds. The room was still dark, but she was restless. Looking out the window, the moon shined full and bright over the still ocean. In a split second decision, she grabbed a sweater before heading down to the beach. With her shoes on her hand, she walked along the shore. The water ran up to her calf sometimes, a bit too cold when mixed with the fog that filled her lungs. Charlie wondered whether it was too late or too early to be out by herself, but there was no better hour to sort things out in one’s mind. If it was truly Noemi who had seen Charlie and Agustina together at the beach, why hadn’t she come to tell her parents already? Was she really going to keep the secret for Charlie without her even asking? It was hard to believe. Noemi must be up to something, waiting for the right time and way to say it. Or to gather evidence. But, why? Was there really a chance for Charlie to deny her accusations and get away with it? As all the possible—and impossible—scenarios came to her, Charlie collected pebbles from the shore, her long nightgown served as a great bag to store them momentarily. She came to realize that it was near impossible to be anxious or fearful in such a calm atmosphere. Alone in the beach, under the stars and surrounded by mist, touching the water while collecting stones. Silence only being interrupted by the ocean against her freezing legs. It was as if God tried to comfort her with nature. As she kept walking, there were more and more stones underneath her feet. So much so, that by the time she came to the end of East-Watch beach, it hurt to walk barefoot. Charlie got away from shore and sat on a stone at the bottom of the hill. The same one where she’d had breakfast with Agustina almost 24 hours prior. She put on her sandals and made a split second decision. It almost didn’t come as a surprise when she found Agustina sitting on the cliff, just like the time they were both there for the first time. The foreigner couldn’t see her, but she was most certainly aware of her— the stones bounced on one another as she walked. Charlie sucked in a breath and walked slowly closer to Agustina. She wasn’t sure if what she was doing was right, it was a much wiser decision to just leave and never talk to her again. Deny everything Noemi might claim once they were back home and forget that whole summer even happened. It was a wiser and safer choice. Yet there she was, hand over the lady’s shoulder, almost touching. “Why are you here?” She said without turning around. Her voice was cold, colder than the fog or the ocean. This one froze Charlie inside out. Silence. “If you are not going to say anything, you should just leave.” Charlie breathed in to speak, but her mouth didn't obey. She remembered the last time they were together and how abruptly she'd run away. Agustina had nothing to do with Noemi, she didn’t know how terrifying it was to see her at that beach. And to top it all, Charlie avoided her when she walked, probably the entire way, to The Saltbox Inn just to see her. What was there to say after hurting her in such a way? "I'm sorry doesn't cover it." She finally spoke, sitting down and leaving the stones just behind Agustina. She didn't turn, but her breathing was louder. Faltering. Charlie hadn't noticed from afar, but Agustina went there to cry. "Oh, Agus." She said as she sat down behind her and embraced her into a hug that wasn’t reciprocated. "I'm so sorry." "Why are you here?" Agustina's voice was weak, it broke Charlie to hear such a light-hearted lady like Agustina be in such pain. And it was because of her. "I couldn't sleep." "Why?" Charlie took in a deep breath. "The other day, I thought someone from my town was there and saw us." Charlie said, she rested her forehead against Agustina's hair. She meant to go for a kiss on the cheek, but she was turned away. "So you naturally pushed me and ran off." Agustina scoffed. Charlie was speechless. She hadn't really been thinking at the time. Hell, she barely even remembered what actually happened. "And

let’s remember this isn’t edited but oh god here we go

“It’s not my fault you’ve never been in love, you dish.” I joked.

My head was buried in the engine of a Lincoln Ford 40 while Dough, the mechanic's son — the one who actually worked the cars with me — was washing his hands not far from me. His laughter echoed in the garage.

"I have been in love, mind you," He answered and squatted on the side of the car to meet my stare. "and that's why you should do as I say."

"It's all done." I rolled out from under the car and stood up.

"As I said."

He might have ben nearly a decade older than me at the time, but he was as stubborn as a little boy. Most times, I'd let him think he was right. Not that day, though. I'd told him my plans to make Charlie my wife. I told him about my mother's ring and everything. About how it was the last gift she gave to me before she passed. Yet he was still not on board.

"You're not gonna bring me down with that negativity of yours, Dough." I said, getting the oil out of my hands. "Today's the day, may God be my witness."

"And may he take pity off you if she says yes."

I pushed him playfully, which opened a wrestle that he would've probably won. But as I was soon to find out, we can never know for certain what will happen in the future. Even if that future is mere minutes away.

Dough's father came in the garage with two other men, they were all in their best attire. He was wearing a striped blue suit with a silk shirt as white as the clouded sky that day. The other two men wore badges and medals on their military uniforms.

Both me and Dough stood up straight and shook their hands. My blood leaving my head as fast as possible. My pessimistic friend was just as pale as me. There was only one reason for soldiers to come into a place like this, and we both knew it very well.

"Good evening, gentlemen." One of them said, smile all too charming for a man of war. "What would you say if the Queen herself asked for your service at this very moment?"

I remained silent during the whole conversation. My mind was too busy reading back all the newspapers I'd read for the past few months. All the flyers that looked just like the ones these soldiers — although it'd be more proper to call them sales men — gave to us.

"The homeland needs you." Was one of the slogans in display. A beaver wearing a military helmet was standing proud alongside a lion, both staring beyond. What they were supposed to be looking at was thousands of men fighting for humanity. The were about to join the fight against the devil himself, and if any of the recent headlines were correct, they were too short of fighting men.

I didn't need to speak up to sign in my name and write my contact information. The train was to leave the next weekend, enough time to tell Charlie and my father. But, when I saw the other set flyers under the inscription sheets, I couldn't contain myself.

"What're those for, sir?" Even I was surprised by the roughness of my voice. I feared it'd crack just from the thought.

"We're looking for nurses too, young man." He said.

"Someone's got to take care of the wounded." The other said. "There's too many."