I’m trying to find Dave, but it would take too long for me to find him at all. How many men here are tall with blonde hair? Will doesn’t think twice before agreeing and we go on the long journey of trying to find him.
Every ten minutes or so Will would see someone who looked like Dave. After forty-five minutes I finally saw him. To my delight, he's cutting someone's hair, which means he can cut mine too.
“Dave!” I call out,
He looks up and after a few seconds recognises me and starts to wave.
“Hey Laro, do you need a hand with anything?”
The person who is getting their haircut looks up and gives a gleeful smile.
“I don’t think we’ve met, my name is James,” He says politely.
“Nice to meet you,” I reach over and shake his hand, “I was wondering if you could give me a haircut,”
Dave smiles, “Is that for the two of you?” he says looking over at Will.
I nod and Will extends his hand, “Will,”
“Dave,” Dave whispers, “Do you guys have anything you could pay with? It doesn’t have to be anything fancy,”
I look up at Dave as a great idea pops into my mind,
“I could teach you some basic German words, and I have some nice warm socks to pay for Will,”
Will smiles crazily as Dave nods his head towards the three-person queue, all of which are sitting down on the dirt and having a conversation. We sit next to them and I recognise George.
“Hey, Laro!”
We have a conversation for around five minutes until the next person in line is called, which is him.
“You’re popular,”
Will says and I feel my cheeks light up.
“I guess so,” I reply, “but you are too,”
“I don’t know about that,” he laughs and we start to talk about home.
Will works at a bakery in Birmingham, with his Dad. His Mum passed away a few years ago when Will was still a little boy. When I heard the pain in his voice I almost winced.
“What about you, who’s in your family?”
I gulp and talk in a hushed tone.
“I don’t have a family. When I was a baby my parents left me at an orphanage with a note saying my name. The orphanage was terrible, the adults would spank the children for no reason and we were never allowed to leave the building unless we were working. When I was seven I grabbed my stuff in the middle of the night and left. I’ve been on the street ever since and working scattered jobs everywhere,”
Will exhales.
“I’m sorry to hear that,”
He says and I actually believe him, because he sounds genuine and he knows the pain of not having a parent, just like me.
“Laro!” Dave calls and I jump up walking over to the chair he’s made out of bags and logs, it’s surprisingly comfortable.
He makes small talk with me for the whole time and when I’m done I can tell he’s done a better job than the barber back in England did. I look in my small mirror and gasp. I look so dirty that I’m almost unrecognisable! I wait a good twenty minutes until Will’s haircut is done.
“You look so good!” I smile, “I’ll come back here tomorrow, Dave, with my dictionary,”
He nods and continues to cut his hair.
I have to meet the German girl in two days and I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to get there. Maybe I could walk around the outside of the trenches, where all the vegetation is, or I could disguise myself as a German and walk to the other side without being shot. That’s a problem for future me.
I wake up screaming once again, not because of Clara, but because of the gunshots in my head. In my sleep they set off in my head, they are fireworks, one by one popping into the air. Until the dreams turn into nightmares and the horrible sound of people screaming mixes into the group.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breath in.
After a few breaths, I can finally breathe normally again, the panic isn’t fully gone through. I get up, my whole body shaking and walking. I walk around the side until I find Will, sleeping peacefully. I tap his shoulder gently but it doesn’t stir him. I shake it and he looks up at me, frightened until he realises that there’s no reason to be afraid.
“Are you alright?” He says as he rises up.
I take a deep breath and am about to answer with a yes until I realize that’s not true.
“No,” I say and start crying into his shoulder.
Crying for me, crying for Clara, crying for the dead men, the mourning women, crying for everything and anything until after what felt like a lifetime.
“Will?” I say barely audible.
“Yeah?” He says patting my back.
“What if they find out I’m a girl?”
Will pauses.
“They won’t do anything, and they won’t find out either. Got it?”
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