The Hero of Two Worlds
Chapter One
Joseph Lafay wheeled the bookcart down the familiar halls of the veterans’ hospital. It was nearing sundown, and the harsh light of sunset filtered through the windows. Joseph shielded his eyes as he turned the corner towards Building Twelve.
Entering the hospital’s small library, Joseph parked the cart, and deftly shelved a few stray books that had made their way to the countertop.
A small head peeked up from behind the counter. “Oh, hey, Mr. LaFay!” a young girl said. “We were just about to close up for the night. Daddy was about to come looking for you.”
“I am glad that I did not inconvenience you, Miss Alexandra,” Joseph said, giving a little bow.
Alexandra giggled. “You make everything elegant, Mr. LaFay,” she said. “You’re a true gentleman.”
“It is I who am honored to have such friends,” Joseph replied. “You and your family have been so kind to me since I moved here.”
“Well,” a man’s voice drawled from behind a bookshelf, “you’ve done more than your fair share of bein’ kind yourself, Joseph. I just have one question.”
The tall, dark man stepped out from behind the shelf, holding a large stack of books. “How in the hey do you have these things organized? I’ve been tryin’ to alphabetize these books for ever!”
Joseph smiled. “They are only organized into general categories, mon ami,” he replied. “Fantasy is here, science fiction over there. The paperbacks go on this rack in the middle, and large print goes behind the counter. The large print books are the ones most demanded.”
“I told you, Daddy!” Alexandra said. “The veterans like it this way.”
“Indeed, so many books go in and out that it would be impossible to keep them organized like other libraries,” Joseph explained. “But you are doing well, Mr. Smith.”
“Thanks,” the other man said. “But I told you before, you don’t gotta call me Mr. Smith all the time. I’m Armistead, and that’s that. Just Armistead.”
“And I’m Just Charlotte,” a woman said, entering the room. “And here are the snacks – such as they are. These VA vending machines are a racket!”
“Thanks, Mama,” Alexandra said, taking a package of peanut butter cookies. “We packed our own snacks, but we ran out. Working with all these books sure makes you hungry!”
“Yesiree,” Armistead said. “Thanks for getting the snacks, Charlotte, honey. You want some, Joseph?”
“Perhaps,” Joseph replied. “Do you have the little pretzels?”
Charlotte smiled. “I sure do,” she said, handing him a brightly colored bag.
Armistead sat down. “These chairs are just as uncomfortable as the waiting room chairs,” he said. “We’ll have to see if we can do something about that. The only comfy chairs in the whole hospital complex are the ones for the surgery waiting room on floor ten – and I’d rather not need to use those!”
“Agreed,” Charlotte said fervently. As a veteran’s wife, Charlotte had seen more than her fair share of waiting rooms at the Department of Veterans’ Affairs hospital.
“Joseph, you’re rubbin’ off on me too dang much,” Armistead said, waving his bag of chips. “I’m a veteran, and the last place I wanna see is the VA hospital. And where am I on my day off? The VA.”
“Aw, you know you like volunteering, Daddy,” Alexandra said. “It’s the patriotic thing to do. It’s public service.”
“I got your ‘public service’,” Armistead said, ruffling Alexandra’s hair. “But, you’re right, honey. We do need to give back.”
“We’re not the only ones you’ve inspired, either,” Charlotte said. “We’ve got a whole army of volunteers, now. It’s a huge contrast from just a few short months ago. There were so few volunteers here that they were talking about closing the library.”
“I am very glad that they did not do that,” Joseph said. “Thomas Jefferson said. ‘I cannot live without books.’ And I could not agree more.”
“Me either,” Alexandra said. “Jefferson had the biggest personal library in the United States! He said people need books to remember how to be free.”
“That is true,” Joseph said. He walked over to the door, and flipped the sign to ‘Closed’. “Thank you for the pretzels, Ms. Charlotte. It is time to close up the library now.”
“And time for us to all get home,” Charlotte said. “You got your backpack, Alexandra?”
Alexandra jumped up. “Just a minute, please, Mama,” she said. She quickly put several books, a few toy ponies, and a couple of very patriotic fashion dolls into her bag. “We’ll pick up where we left off next time, okay George and Martha?” she said. “It’s almost time to go to Yorktown!”
Shouldering the backpack, Alexandra joined the others. “Let’s go, Mama and Daddy!” she said.
“Alright, sweetie,” Armistead said, giving his daughter a quick hug. “You go ahead to the car with Mama, okay? I need to help Joseph lock up.”
The little girl skipped down the sidewalk next to Charlotte. Joseph turned the key in the lock, and closed up the library of Building Twelve for another evening.
“Joseph, you make sure you get Jackson to help you out here while we’re away for the week, okay?” Armistead instructed. “I don’t like anybody walking by themselves. It ain’t really safe anymore, you know? The last thing I want is for Alexandra’s best friend to get mugged while we’re down in Tennessee.”
“I shall be cautious, my friend,” Joseph agreed. “I have not felt like anyone has been watching me of late. But after the last time, I cannot be too careful. You and your family know my secret, and many others here do as well, though they are kind enough not to mention it. To most of the world, I am simply Joseph LaFay, artist and volunteer.”
“But there are others who know, too – and from what Alexandra told me, they ain’t too friendly,” Armistead said, shuddering. “We don’t want no more creepy snake ladies showin’ up and trying to hurt you.”
Joseph fingered a small brooch he wore. It was shaped like a crescent moon, and shone in the twilight with a faint glow.
“Joseph, you okay, man?” Armistead asked.
Joseph jumped slightly, startled. “Forgive me, Armistead,” he said. “I was lost in thought.”
“You were having a flashback, weren’t you?” Armistead asked kindly. “I’m here more than not, Joseph. I know PTSD when I see it. And you’re still working through it, ain’t you?”
Joseph nodded. “I suppose I am,” he said. “Some days, I feel nothing negative at all. Other days, I feel so shaken I can barely move. I cannot predict the bad days. Or the troubled moments.” He looked off at the mountains in the horizon.
“I know, man” Armistead said. “I’ve wrestled with it, too. Post-traumatic stress disorder – that bunch of fun that comes after you’ve had a rough experience. We veterans have it more often than not, and civilians can get it, too. We just all gotta look out for each other. You’re tired and hungry. That’s not a good place to be. It really makes it worse.”
“As Miss Alexandra said, working with the books does work up the appetite,” Joseph said.
“Yeah, it works up the sarcasm, too,” Armistead said. “I can’t help it. After moving that many books around, I end up talking to them. And I mean, really, who writes mysteries about evil desserts, anyway?”
Joseph laughed aloud. “Oh, my friend, you are so good for me!” he exclaimed. “I need to remember how to laugh.”
Armistead looked at him seriously. “You sure do,” he said. “You’re the one who helped keep up morale during the war more than just about anybody. And you’ve helped here, too. You – you’re like magic. You help us all smile just by being there. You make sure you smile, too, okay?”
The bus pulled up in front of the hospital. “I shall try, Armistead,” Joseph said. “I must take my leave of you. My Pompom is waiting.”
“And my girls are waitin’ for me,” Armistead said. “You have a good one, Joseph.”
“May God be with you, and your family,” Joseph said, boarding the bus.
As the bus drove off into the night, Armistead stood for a moment by the fountain memorial. He watched the calming spray of the water as he prayed.
“God, it’s crazy that Joseph was able to travel in time to here. I’m still not a hundred percent sure how it all worked; somethin’ to do with Queen Marie Antoinette’s magical brooch or something. But God, however he got here, he needs your help, okay? He’s got a lot to work through, just like the rest of us veterans. But the world couldn’t need a person like him more than it does right now. He reminds people of real freedom, just by bein’ here. God, help my friend – help Joseph, the Marquis de Lafayette.”
Armistead turned, and walked towards his car. The moon started to rise, as if it heralded a change – and the night deepened as Armistead’s prayer was received into the starry heavens.
Enjoyed this sample chapter? Check out the rest of the story here:
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-hero-of-two-worlds-dakota-love/1138548009?ean=9781663528339
All material copyright 2021 Dakota Love
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