OCR Text |
Show 23-2 "And he'll have more to come." "Yes, he'll have more to come." "Father, you told me a long time ago that the worst was past for the men you treated, that they were happy to be home. And that they didn't hurt any more." "Did I say that? When?" "The first night you came home. When I asked you about the men at the train station." Father stared at me for a moment. Then he frowned. "I don't remember. But you must be right. You always did have a superb memory." "Do you still believe that?" "I never did believe that. How could I say that they didn't hurt any more when for some of them every day is . . ." He paused. "But you told me that." "Annie, one thing I have learned since coming home is that I must not underestimate you. I learned that very quickly with your mother and me seeing that the same is true with you." Father brushed his face with his hand. "I'm sorry I told you that, Annie. Because you learned very quickly through your beloved Andrew that every word I told you was a lie. Maybe for him, the worst is past. But he definitely still has pain. And as to being happy, well, maybe he is, but many of the others ..." Father shrugged. He cocked his head. "What else did I tell you?" "That they were home with their families," I whispered. Father tightened his lips and we looked at each other. "I guess I was wrong again." Suddenly I sat up in bed and threw my arms around Father and squeezed him to me. |