Every Storm Part 1

Every Storm.

Lori Wick.

Carson Point, Australia April 1945.

"Miss Josie," the little girl said, tugging at the hem of her teacher's dress. Josephine Archer looked down, her face patient and calm.

"Yes, Norma?"

"I finished my picture."

Josie suppressed a sigh. Her sister, Lorraine, who taught with her, had just given the a.s.signment before leaving to run an errand. Josie knew that if she looked at eight-year-old Norma's paper right now, it would be a ma.s.s of scribbles that went far beyond the bounds of the page.

"Thank you for telling me, Norma. Go back to your seat, andI'll'come "and see your picture in a moment."

The little girl started away, but Josie's voice stopped her.

"Norma."

The little girl turned.

"If you used only one color, I want you to add at least two more colors before you show the picture to me. Can you do that for me?"

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"Yes, Miss Josie."

"Do your best," Josie encouraged with a gentle smile that the little girl returned.

After making sure that Norma headed in the direction of her desk, Josie returned to the large desk that sat at the front of the room and sat down to look at the papers piled there. She was just beginning to read, when Lorraine-Lorri-slipped into the room and came directly toward her.

"Mail," she said quietly, her excitement showing in her eyes and nowhere else. Josie's gaze scanned the room to see that all was in order and then followed her younger sister out the door.

Stationing themselves by the window so they could still see their students, they each took one letter.

"Mine's from Mother," Lorri said.

"Then mine must be from Max."

Silence fell and smiles emerged as the two women read the words that came from so very far away.

Dear Jo and Raine, Maxine's letter began. I hope this gets there soon, or there won't be any use in sending it. Ihavea huge test coming up in chemistry. I've studied until my brain is soggy, but I still fear failing. You've got to pray for my brain! It's preoccupied these days with acute boy who sits two rows over. In church, he'salways behind me, but in chemistry, he's in view the whole time. Isn't that rotten luck?

Well, enough about me. How are the kids doing these days? Is Philip still biting? I think I'd be tempted to bite back. Tell Norma I received the picture she drew formed. I couldn't tell what it was, but I guess she doesn't need to know that.

Josie's shoulders shook with laughter as she read this fan letter from her youngest sister. Max had been slightly boy crazy from the time she was three years old. She didn't do anything to encourage

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the boys-their mother and grandfather would never have allowed that-but her dreamy, romantic heart was often smitten -with someone new.

Wanting to laugh much louder than she should, Josie glanced up to find students moving around the room. She poked her head back through the door long enough to tell two boys to sit back down in their seats. Waiting only for them to obey, she returned to her letter.

Lorri, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, completely missed her sister's reprimand of the children. Fully ensconced in the letter from her mother, her heart was thousands of miles away.

I've decided to put hostas on the north side of the house, Ruth Archer wrote. They do well in shade, and that flower bed has needed some sprucing up for too many years. Also, I can weed over there when the weather gets warm and makes the backyard unbearable. I could go with ferns but thought hostas would be more fun.

Max wants to repaint her room. The admiral was amenable to the suggestion, butVm still thinkingabout it. With thetwoofyougone, your grandfather has no one to spoil but your sister. He didn't even blink when she suggested purple walls and a lavender ceiling. Ym still discussing it with her and telling her not to get her hopes very high.

"Oh,"no!" Josie suddenly said, bringing Lorri's head up. The women looked through the window to see that a fight had broken out between two little girls. For the moment letters were put away. It was time to return to work.

8.

Because of a family connection, the Archer sisters had landed wonderful jobs as governesses. They had good hours, long holidays, decent pay, and the respect of their employer. The only drawback was the location: Burra Hills, in Carson Point, Australia, was over 7500 miles from their home in southern California.

Ian Colins, a successful cattle rancher in a remote area of the country, had set up a school for his children and the children of his employees. He had hired the Archer sisters in the fall of 1940, and they had come to Australia in late January of 1941 to begin teaching.

They hadn't been home to see their mother and sister since they arrived. Their grandfather, a U.S. naval officer, had been to see them about six months after they arrived. He had stayed for three days, but it hadn't taken long for that visit to feel like a long-ago dream. Letters and boxes were wonderful, but sometimes the girls wondered if it was worth it, especially after news of the attack reached them.

It had been horrible to be so far from home when Pearl Harbor was bombed. As with most Americans, the women were in shock for many days. Then fear set in, fear they knew they must fight. G.o.d was working His plan for their family-they were sure of this-but trust came hard.

Then months turned into years, and at times news of the war, ashamed as they were to admit it, became routine. They corresponded as much as possible through the mail, and even though information was delayed at times, it was always a relief to know all was well at home. Letters that spoke of new paint in a bedrctom, flower gardens, and upcoming tests, helped them to feel as though some portion of their world was normal.

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For the most part, life on the ranch was insulated from the fighting going on around them, but the radio and weekly newspaper delivery helped to keep them informed of the situation. Both girls would have given much for a visit home, but such trips were very expensive and simply not an option.

In the room the sisters shared, family photos were always in sight. They kept a basket with the latest letters available and did everything they could to make their s.p.a.ce feel like home. It wasn't the home they were accustomed to, but they had each other and knew that someday they would be back in California again.

Josephine Archer was in love. First Lieutenant Kenneth Showers of the United States Army was stationed in England. He had asked Josie to marry him before she had left for Australia. A ring didn't follow for almost a year, and a date for the wedding was contingent on the war, but their love was very real.

Josie stretched out on her bed that night, a stack of Ken's letters in her hand. It had been wonderful to hear from Mother and Max but Josie naturally yearned for a recent letter from the man she loved. She reread his last one, trying to imagine him in combat and then deciding it was best not to think about it. In the midst of these speculations, Lorri returned from the bathroom.

"Let me guess. You're reading Ken's letters."

Josie only smiled.

"I can't think why you need to do that," Lorri teased her, hairbrush in hand, "when I'm such charming company."

A pillow flew through the air. Lorri settled on her own bed, her eyes on the ceiling. If the truth be told, she envied her sister.

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Hard as it would be to be separated, Lorri thought it would be wonderful to have someone like Ken Showers love you enough to ask for your hand. She sighed a little just thinking about it.

"What was that sigh for?" Josie asked.

"Did you hear that?" Lorri asked, surprised.

"Yes."

The younger woman was silent.

"Are you going to tell me?" Josie prodded "I was just thinking about Ken."

"You're not supposed to be sighing over my fiance"," her sister teased.

"It wasn't specifically about him-just about being in love and knowing someone is waiting for you."

The yearning she heard in her sister's voice brought Josie up on one elbow to look across at the other bed.

"I didn't know you felt that way, Lorri. You've never given any hint of wanting a man in your life right now."

"Really, Josie!" Lord's voice held a measure of mild disgust. "Just because I don't swoon and carry on the way Max does, doesn't mean I don't have any interest."

"What type of man would you want?" Josie asked, her voice tender, which was her way.

"Someone like Ken." Lorri's eyes were still on the ceiling. "Someone who shared our faith and was so sweet and capable all at the same time. It also wouldn't hurt if he was as dreamy as Ken."

"He is good-looking, isn't he?"

"Um hm. Is that the first thing you noticed, Jo?" Lorri finally looked at her sister.

"It probably was, but it didn't take long for that to be of little importance."

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"What did you notice in its place?"

"Just what you said: his sweetness. He's the kindest man I know. When he goes out to fight, he has to be tough and brave, but he couldn't be more gentle with me."

"How often do you think about him fighting?"

"Not very much. I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else."

For a time the room was quiet. Both women lay looking at the ceiling. It didn't matter that it was a Friday night and at home there would have been countless things to do. They lived in a small cabin on a cattle ranch, and most evenings of the year there was next to nothing going on.

It certainly helped that they enjoyed each other's company and never ran out of things to talk about, but on Friday nights, when they dreamed of going for a drive on the California coast or popping corn and listening to records at home, it was especially difficult to be away from family. ; "Who's going to start tonight?" Josie asked.

"I will," Lorri volunteered.^ And with that, she began to pray. They had made a commitment to pray together every night before they fell asleep in their room. And so far, they had kept their word. This night-even being a Friday and a little bit disappointing-would be no different.

Admiral Dean Archer was headed to see his oldest granddaughters. They didn't know of his arrival, but that made it all the more fun.

Their father-his son* Tom Archer-had been dead for more than 12 years, but Dean still thought about him often and knew 12 x Lori Wick that he would really come to mind when he saw Josie. They didn't look alike, but her mannerisms were most like his.

All three girls took after their mother with their dark hair and skin like fresh cream, but Josie always reminded him of Tom. Not that she wasn't attractive-she was really quite lovely-^-but he never looked at her hazel eyes without seeing his son.

Lorrie was the most like Ruth. Slightly more pet.i.te, she was swift to smile, and her eyes were large and deep brown. Max looked like a younger version of Josie, but for some reason, never reminded Dean of his son.

Dean thought about how different Josie and Lorri would look. He tried to prepare himself for anything, but his mind wandered to the years apart. What a time it had been! Seeing his granddaughters had been almost impossible, and he knew their mother and sister missed them terribly. They might have surprised the girls with money for a trip home, but not after the war started. It was all too long and unpredictable.