by Katy
The Native American knew that he was being watched. The eyes of a guard near the main wing of the mansion had followed his progress along the narrow gravel path. The man had nothing to fear, any plans Chief might have had to escape had been dismissed long ago. The Indian allowed a smile to flicker across his lips; after all he belonged here now didn't he? He had spent most of his life feeling unwanted, out of place, despised, 'belonging' was not something he was familiar with and he was still getting used to it. Deep in thought the young man continued to gaze out across the gently, rolling parkland. His dark eyes saw nothing of the view, just images of a recent past he had hated and a more distant past he had loved. Intertwined with those images were hopes for a future he desperately wanted to be part of.
Another pair of eyes followed Chief's movements from the house into the garden.
"What's got into that Indian now?" Asked Casino angrily as he watched the solitary figure on the path below.
"Eh?" Goniff looked up from the book he was reading, his Italian American colleague continued to stare out of the window with his back to the room. "I dunno. Go and ask him."
"Oh yeah! He's hardly said a word since we got back from France. Sure he's gonna tell me." The dark haired man paused, then gave a dismissive shrug. "I could care less anyway." With that he turned and wandered back towards his army cot.
"If you don't care, why do you let it worry you?" Actor, who was also trying to read, glanced up from his page.
"Did I say I was worried?" Casino was instantly defensive.
"You didn't have to say anything - we know you are concerned."
"We do? Well we are wrong. I don't care! He just bugs me." The man lit a cigarette and lay down on his bed. He watched the smoke rise to the ornately carved ceiling and wished his bad humour would dissipate as easily. There was a short silence broken by Actor's quiet tones.
"When we were in France you went back into that building to get Chief out. If you hadn't, he would have died. He is a proud young man, maybe he is finding it difficult to accept."
Casino did not answer but continued to gaze at the ceiling. He drew deeply on his 'Lucky Strike' narrowing his eyes as the smoke drifted past his face.
Goniff watched the exchange in silence; his blue eyes flickered from man to man. He was only too aware that the atmosphere had been different since their last mission, but it had been a difficult one for all of them and he had put it down to that. Chief, always content to keep himself to himself, seemed to be blocking them out completely now. The blond did not know what to say, he had no solutions but felt he should at least add something.
"Give 'im time. He'll sort himself out."
Casino turned to face the Englishman.
"You think so?" He asked softly, his voice holding no trace of anger.. Goniff looked to Actor for assurance, the older man simply bowed his head in agreement.
"Yeah, that's all he needs, mate; time."
Chief could almost feel his colleague's dark eyes boring into his back as he stood on the path. He also felt the intense gaze move away and did not need to turn to confirm that the safecracker had left the window. He knew Casino was irritated, confused and angry; the man had, after all, saved his life and had been repaid with silence and withdrawal. How could the other men understand the younger man's need for solitude or his strange moods and emotions? He didn't fully understand them himself.
For the first time in his adult life Chief had started to realise that he counted for something. He had gained the respect of other men and because of that, self-respect was growing too. He wondered why it had taken so long for him to acknowledge the facts. The team had been together for over a year and from the outset Garrison had treated him no differently than the others. Okay, so Casino called him names sometimes but only a few days ago the same man had been willing to risk his own life for him. Chief was no longer made to feel like a 'dirty Indian' a 'half-breed' or figure of contempt. It had taken World War to show him that his heritage did not really matter to others; more importantly it had shown him just how vital it was to himself.
Looking back. Was it his heritage that caused his problems or the actions and reactions of others? He went to New York as an adolescent, self doubt and loneliness made him an easy target for jibes and derision. He felt he had to prove himself amongst other youths in a city that was completely alien to his nature. He couldn't admit his feelings, so bravado saw him through. Hot wiring and stealing cars were his first crimes, more serious offences followed, his role as a getaway driver and eventual use of a knife in anger lead to a prison sentence.
The United States Army had given him the opportunity to redeem himself, ironically by the use of his more dubious talents for the good of the Allied cause. The young man had now made a major decision to change his life, if he survived the war. He wanted the chance to show vulnerable young people that crime was not the only way. He wasn't ready to share his thoughts with his colleagues, however, it seemed important to tell someone of his plans, if only as some kind of insurance to make him carry them out.
The man's dark eyes softened as an image of Christina came into his mind. She had been the future he had wanted but had lost. The pain of that lost love still hurt but not so acutely now. She was happy with Johnny, her husband, and that's what mattered. Chief knew that Christina was the only person in the world he could share his dreams with. She would keep them safe and be the guarantee that they would come to fruition. He had to contact her and it would have to be by letter - what would he say?
England 8th April 1944
Dear Christina,
This is the first letter I have ever written to you and I want you to know right now that I ain't tryin' to cause you any trouble. There are just some things I want you to know. I'm no scholar and this may not make much sense but please spare a few minutes to read what I have to say.
You remember when we met in New York last year? You told me to stop running. Even then I didn't know what I was running from; now I do. I was running away from myself. I'd made a lousy mess of my life, couldn't sort it out and couldn't face being a nothin'.
These past months I've learnt a lot about myself and about other people too. Strange how bein' away from home has helped me think things through. Somehow I've been able to step back and take a long look at what had happened. Back home I was too close, too tangled up in the whole mess.
I can't tell you exactly what I do here but I work for the Army with four other men, we work as a team. You could say I was part of a team when I was stealin' cars but it's different, I was bein' used then, it don't feel like that now. They need me and I need them. What I do counts. If I survive the war I might be in for a parole. I want that parole; it'll give me another chance. I know I can be useful back home and I mean 'home', not the city. I want to go back to the place I was born, to my homeland. I want to show kids back there that crime is wrong and that there are other ways. If I can stop just a few going to prison then I will have achieved something!
You surprised to hear this? No more than I am. I didn't know how to begin to tell you and it's turned out to be the longest letter I've ever written. I never thought I would feel this way but I just want to try. Okay, so my plans won't change the world but I've got a goal and a purpose and it sure feels good. Underneath all of this I'm still me. It'll be hard to overcome things inside of me and prejudice from outside. I might fail but I'm gonna give it my best shot. No one else knows about my dream and to others it's nothin' but it means a lot to me and even more to be able to share my dream with you now.
I really wanted you Christina, you know that but we can't always have all we want. I know I would have been no good for you. What sort of a future could I have offered you? None at all. I was a fool to even think you would wait for a nothin', you deserved so much more. When we last met you said you were happy with Johnny, that's all that matters. I wasn't there when you needed someone, he was. It's my own fault we are not together and that's something I will live with forever. I think of you often, it's impossible to just switch off my feelings for you but nobody can take away the time we did have and I keep the memories
I'll say goodbye now and promise I will never try to contact you again. I wish you happiness always.
R.
PS. I love you.
