Playing Scrabble

Playing Scrabble

Jane, Dora, Margot and Anne, four grey heads bent over the scrabble board at the leisure centre.
“Well I guess I’m on the wane,” sighed Jane as she began the game, plecing the letters WANE with trembling fingers.
“Aren’t we all. That’s fourteen for you.” said Anne, writing down the score.
“Hurrah! I’ve got a bingo! Look at this y’all!” called Dora as she placed the letters SOLDIER vertically on the board, turning WANE into WANED.
Her mind went back to the smiling young American who had won her heart and been her husband for forty years. She had returned home to her birthplace, but two of the children were still in the states. She smiled happily at her companions, but met solemn faces.
“Anne, that’s a bonus fifty for Dora,” said Jane picturing her grandson, somewhere in Iraq. Oh God, keep him safe! was her silent prayer.
Anne’s pen was stationary over the paper. Suddenly she was back in Vietnam, staring at the young man with blue eyes and curly hair who had just opened his eyes. As an army nurse she had been part of the team that has saved his life, and here he was grinning up at her, not yet realising that he had lost both legs and most of his right arm.
Margot’s hand hovered over the letters on her rack. Her thoughts were back in Hungary, where, as a frightened nine-year-old, she had seen a German soldier come and take away her father, who was Jewish.
Her mother was Catholic, and Margot had found her kneeling beside the big bed weeping tears onto the rosary beads in her hands. They had locked the house but after dark there came a soft knock on the kitchen door.
Margot had opened it to find her father standing there.
“Sh!” he warned her and came softly in and closed the door.
“What happened? How did you get away?” asked her mother.
Papa’s arms were round them both. ”When we came to the wheat fields the soldier said, ‘I have a daughter just the age of your little girl. Perhaps you need to go into the wheat fields and relieve yourself.’ So I went into the wheat and just lay still until dark. I’ll go now. Perhaps if I look I may find some food in the fork of the big oak where we used to go when we were courting. Remember you haven’t seen me. We don’t want the soldier to get into trouble. Margot had better go and stay with your cousins in the North. Softly he had opened the door and was gone.
“Margot! It’s your turn!” said Dora.
“Oh, sorry! I was thinking of something else!”
She found the letters PEAC and placed them parallel to Jane’s WANE to form PEACE with the E of SOLDIER. Here in this country she had found peace. Peace for fifty years.