He felt frozen to his chair as if time had stopped. Unconnected images and sounds flashed in his memory: Mr. Willoughby, his skinny teacher yelling th...re was no school because a war had started; his Aunt Hope screaming in anguish when he told her that the soldiers had taken Uncle Luke away; the blue-clad men whistling as they smashed down his father's fence; his mother reading and rereading Robert's few letters and folding them away into the drawer of the washstand by her high-backed bed. He. Lying in bridge pose, he heard her voice float in. ‘Pierre, how are you today?’ ‘Great, just peachy.’ He said, dripping with sarcasm. ‘Tell me, Pierre, how do you feel?’ ‘How do I feel? I feel like I have no fucking clue what the hell is going on. I feel like I’m going insane. All I want, Catharine, is to be with you, with YOU, not held captive in some freaky dungeon. Can I say that any clearer?’ ‘Oh Pierre, it’s not time yet, you must continue to be patient, my love.’ Hearing her call him. More

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