As I Lay Dying

Ten

Jimmy has been very subdued lately. Although they weren't close, Pige's death has hit him hard and he's withdrawn into himself.

Luke keeps trying to talk to him, bring him out of his gloom by acting overly cheerful, as if everything is normal.

I don't.

I've seen enough men suffer their first battle. Very few are as hardy and robust as Luke and Jimmy is softer than most. I just wait for him to be ready to talk to me. It's been a week and he's even keeping his distance from me, not swapping watches to keep me company, not seeking me out to eat his meals with.

It's the first light of morning and I've finished my night watch. I was paired with an awful sneaky little soldier, Private Goodham. Everybody knows he pretends to be dead in battle, lying as close to the trench as he can and waiting for the order to retreat. He'd sell his own mother for an extra tobacco ration. You have to be extra careful what you say and do around him, god knows he'd love a chance to report you to commanding officers. I've never missed Jim so much as I did last night.

I walk slowly down the trench, hoping to snatch a few hours sleep. I'm almost at the dug out when I spot Jim, in fact I nearly fall over him. He glances up at me and to my surprise, instead of looking away he shoots me a grin, almost, but not quite, as bright as his constant smile of old.

"Alright Jim?" I ask cautiously. I notice he's cupping something in his hands. "What have you got there?"

He opens his hands slightly and a small furry face with huge pink ears and shiny black eyes stares up at me, its little pink nose twitching curiously.

"Is that a mouse?" I lean forward to take a closer look.

"Yeah. I found it yesterday, gave it a bit of my dinner." He smiles. "It's quite tame. It was still on my pillow when I woke this morning."

He holds it out. I have to admit it's rather sweet looking but it could be riddled with diseases. I tell him this and he laughs.

"Reckon catching something from this little fella is the least dangerous thing here." He holds his palm open and strokes its little head with his huge finger. It doesn't seem tempted to run from him at all. "Thought I might keep the little fella, if he wants to stay with me."

I nod, giving a tired smile. I'm exhausted, I need to sleep badly, but Jim hasn't spoke to me at this length since before we went over the top.
I slowly sit down next to him. I don't speak, I just watch as Jim pets the little creature and crumbles a stale biscuit onto his hand for it to nibble at.

He doesn't speak for a long while. I'm about to give up and go to bed before he suddenly speaks.

"I couldn't get to him fast enough. It was my fault." He says finally, as if he's releasing something that's been weighting him down.

"Pige?" I ask softly.

"Yeah." He nods and glances at me. "I tried but I wasn't fast enough. The thing is, the thing that's playing on my mind, I'd spotted him a couple of minutes before I ran to him. He was wandering around looking dazed, but I didn't think it was safe to run over. So I hesitated. If I'd have gone then, he'd still be alive."

"Or more likely, you'd both be dead."

"Maybe." He shrugs, stroking the little mouse that's curled up in his palm. "But because I didn't even try, he died."

"That's not true Jim. He died because he was shot, not because of you. You would have saved him if you could have. Look how you risked your life and ran back for me."

He nods slowly. I can tell he isn't convinced.

"It's funny... I always thought that soldiers just did what they did and just got on with their lives. I didn't realise..." He trails off and shrugs again, unable to articulate what he wants to say.