Have Hope

• Cara Baker, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2015

My heart is pounding and my legs are numb. I feel dizzy and the stream of tears blur my vision. But I keep going, “How could he?” I think to myself over and over again. “How could… my baby?” “I have to get there before it’s too late!” Finally I arrive at the wharf, no sign of any boat. “Excuse me”. I ask a by passer. “Has the boat off to Europe gone yet?” I manage to say in my trembling voice. He looks down.
“Sorry Miss”, he says then walks off. I fall to the ground with my hand clutching my mouth.
I awaken to a man gently shaking me.
“Miss, Miss”. I sit up slowly, I have been asleep I think. Then reality hits me my son has gone off to war! Millions of questions pop up in my head.
“What is he doing?” “Why did he go?” “What if he doesn't come back?” I start pacing, thinking, “What am I going to do?” I see the man who awoke me, out the corner of my eye. “Thank you.” I say nodding.
“Would you like some company to keep your mind off your son Miss?”
“Thank you, but no thank you, nobody will ever keep me from thinking of him!” I say frustrated with the man for trying to help me. I can't talk, misery has swept over my body, so I walk off.
My feet are burning from the cold making the situation worse. I feel something in my jacket pocket and pull it out. “Mum.” It says. Tears flood to my eyes as I open it. “I will come home, have hope.” I read the last part aloud. I clutch the precious letter and rush home before I freeze. Hours, then days, then months pass by, wanting, wishing and hoping he will come home. A loud knock on the door startles me. I rush down stairs hoping not to miss it. “My son is home!” I think. A warm flush warms my body opening the door. To my surprise I see a man hop into a buggy and drive off. A yellow envelope is caught by the wind and flies over to the rose bush in the front garden. I take it out, not worrying about the thorns and open it. “Corben Andrews, missing in action!” I scream! “Why me?” “Why my son?” I will never be myself again I will be alone forever.
A few more miserable weeks pass by and I was not giving up hope, every time my beautiful boy came into my head I would be forced to image brutal things that happened to him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my sons beloved cherry tree, he planted when he was very young, swaying sadly in the breeze. I fetched some water and went outside. After I was done I slowly went down to check on the horses in the paddock. To my surprise Bonnie our horse had a little tag along. I had totally forgotten she was having a foal. “Hi there little fella.” I said stroking Bonnie’s mane. He skipped out from behind her and gave a friendly little neigh. Slowly stepping closer I reached out and lay my hand on his head. To my joy he closed his eyes and came closer. Many days were spent down there keeping me occupied from reality. My foal, Ashten, had grown into a dashing young horse. One evening I took Ashten up on a grassy hill. He lay next to me watching the transformation of the sky. In the distance a figure of a man walked from the horizon, Ashten’s ears shot up as he stood up. I started running towards the figure and he followed. I stop and stared as the man walk towards me. “How?” I whispered. He threw his arms around me. “You’re home, you’re home at last.” I whispered as my son’s hug warmed my lost soul.
“Always have hope.” He whispered back.
THE END