The Leave-Taking of Corporal Elijah Lacey
By: Sarah Susanna Wood 1. Morning I’m awake this morning, feeling a little lifted off the cot. I keep looking down to be sure I am actually lying on the surface of it. It feels like I might float up in the direction of the ceiling. I think of the Germans, appearing out of nowhere, as if the Armistice is somehow just a trick, and they will burst in, pack me into a wagon and take me away. Everything is too bright: the white of the sheets and the curtains, and Marya’s uniform. I’ve waited all morning for her to arrive. She smells of lilacs. Bill has been moaning all night long, and I haven’t slept. Sometimes, he talks about Missouri and going back to Springfield. He is awake, but I don’t have the energy to speak. All I can think of is Marya bringing me soup for lunch; not that I could eat any, but I want to keep her sitting here, talking to me, her voice like velvet in my ear. I can’t feel myself. I am holding up my hand and rubbing my thumb ...
