Inadvertently Entangled: Day 3

Word Count: 18,096

Summary of Events:

Clem and Arek came by and confirmed Pierson's identity by a cluster of birthmarks on his hip that he didn't recall having ever possessed before, and everyone living in the house welcomed him warmly based on their testimony; in fact, a young woman staying at the house even seemed to be developing a crush on Pierson, which left him a bit concerned, as he knew for a fact Uncle Ashford had never married. Clem and Arek informed him before long of a plan for him to fly out of Poland to Sweden, from where he'd either be reassigned or return to England. As he was preparing to depart for that flight, he was startled by a knock at the door…

Excerpt of the Day:

The door opened a small crack and the youngest of the boys — whom Pierson had, by this time, gathered was Mrs. Lis’ youngest child — peeked in.

“Is it suppertime?” Pierson asked.

“No,” the boy replied, slipping inside and closing the door quietly behind him.

“Then what brings you here?” Pierson asked.

“I wanted to know if you’re a spy,” the boy replied.

“Do you think I am?” Pierson asked.

“Well, you’re from England,” the boy replied. “And you keep having secret meetings with Clem and Arek.”

“You’re very observant,” Pierson said.

“I want to be a spy,” the boy replied. “I want to help defeat the Germans and send them back to Germany.”

Pierson nodded. “How old are you?”

“Nine,” the boy replied. “But I’ll be ten in December.”

“My birthday’s in December too,” Pierson said. “The day before Christmas Eve.”

“Mine is on St. Nicholas’ Day,” the boy replied.

Pierson nodded, even though he had no idea when that was, or if that was Polish slang for Christmas, but he doubted it was.

“You’d have to wait eight years yet to become old enough to be a spy or a soldier,” Pierson said. “Surely you don’t want the war to last that long?”

“No,” the boy admitted. “But I do want to become a spy.”

“Do you think we’ll need spies after the war?” Pierson asked.

“Well, maybe there will be another war,” the boy replied.

“I hope not,” Pierson replied. “Two large-scale conflicts in the span of thirty years is too much as it is.”
“Were you in the other war?” the boy asked.

“No,” Pierson replied. “I was born after it finished. But my father was in it, and my uncles. Three of my uncles died in it, and one of them left a wife and children behind, and one of his sons has done the same in this war.”

“You mean, he’s died and left a wife and children?” the boy asked.

Pierson nodded. Uncle Ashford hadn’t really shared a lot of stories about what had happened to his relatives, but he had at least shared the stories of each one who’d become a casualty of war once, as well as usually listing off all their names as specific people that the family should remember on Remembrance Day, as they were people for whom the day had been created.

“Does there always have to be a war to be spies?” the boy asked.

“Not necessarily,” Pierson admitted. “But there are more spies in wartime than there are in peacetime, which would make it easier for you to get a job, but war is a horrible and gruesome thing that no one should ever wish for.”

The boy nodded. “So are you a spy?”

“It’s probably better if you don’t know,” Pierson said. “But, if we ever meet again, I might tell you the answer.”

“Do you think we will meet again?” the boy asked.

“I can’t say for sure,” Pierson replied.

“I hope we do,” the boy said. “I like you.”