A Piece of Writing
Blurb: Coming soon!
Peggy has always wondered, what if Steve had something, something meant for her. He had always talked about death, after all, nobody knew if the procedure would have eternal effects, or if he would still die, like every other mortal.
Though he'd never admit it, he was known for writing in a small book with a dark gray velvet cover, but t supposedly went down with the ship, that he crashed to the bottom of the northern ocean, but something, call it intuition, told Peggy that it wasn't. That it was somewhere else. Somewhere in the living world.
Peggy walked briskly through the stainless halls of the brand new government building, the Pentagon. Her spotless black heels making a soft, echoing, tap-tap against the walls. She turned the corner in front of her and was face-to-face with a door featuring a simple brass nameplate that read "Chester Phillips, Colonel, United States Army" in darker, neat, lettering.
She gave the door a brisk knock and walked into his reception area, glancing towards his new secretary, Delilah, and saying "I'm here to see the Colonel," in her precise, straight tone.
Delilah nodded, and silently got to her feet, her red stilettos making the same tap-tap Peggy's shoes had made. As Delilah started walking towards the door to the adjoining room where the Colonel made his office, Peggy's mind started drifting into memories, bad memories, dark memories, nightmares.
After Steve died, the nightmares began. At fist they weren't very bad, only about Steve's death, then they kept getting more gruesome, violent, and scary in her mind until she was afraid to even lay her head down onto her pillow at night. But the frightful thing was, these nightmares weren't only at night, Peggy found them happening more and more during the broad daylight, at random moments, and she had no power to stop them, they would come and haunt her mind and soul. And she could do nothing, nothing at all.
"Peggy!" Peggy jerked her head up to the sound of Delilah's voice, "I've called you ten times, Chester-I mean the colonel- won;t be able to see anyone until he finishes a call."
Peggy nodded, blinking at the sound of Delilah calling Colonel Phillips Chester, Peggy had suspected that there was something going on between the two, but Delilah had just confirmed her suspicions.
She walked to the other side of the room, where there were a few uncomfortable chairs, and sat down. The room had a sticky, humid heat to it and the only sound was Delilah flipping through papers and a small fan blowing the only relief from the corner. Peggy sighed and decided that she couldn't take it any longer, "tell the Colonel I'm outside, when he's ready," she said. Delilah gave her a faint nod, and Peggy left, her handbag under one arm.
Once outside,, Peggy pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse, and lit one, taking a long drag on it, before continuing towards a bench nearby.
She observed her surroundings, the Army had taught her that, and smiled at the sight of a small child walking her dog, her mother following, pushing a stroller. Perhaps at one point in time, Steve would be walking with the dog and she would have been pushing the stroller, but that would never happen now. Steve's valor, no matter how courageous it was, had cost them all dearly.
Peggy heard footsteps behind her, stubbing her cigarette on the side of the bench, she stood up, turned around, and faced Colonel Phillips.
"Hello, Colonel, you requested to see me?"
"Yes," the Colonel replied in his gruff, gravelly voice, "You know that Howard Stark was looking in the approximate area where we think Steve's ship crashed?"
Peggy nodded, remembering when Howard had first told her what he was doing, she had been so exited, but now she'd almost lost hope, it had been eight months since he'd told her.
"Well, he thinks he's found something," Colonel Phillips continued, "Do you remember a dark gray book with a velvet cover?"
"Yes," Peggy gasped, if Steve had died, how could a fragile book have made it?
"Well, he wants you to go get it, he's in a small town called Cartwright, Newfoundland, Canada."
"Never heard of it," Peggy said, with a questioning look on her face.
"Not many people have," the Colonel said in his deep voice, "It has a population of less than a thousand and it isn't technically even incorporated into an official town yet."
"Then how do they have a port big enough for Howard's ship?" Peggy questioned, her eyes narrowed.
"He's not taking his whole ship into port, he's anchoring it offshore and is taking a smaller vessel into port," the Colonel responded, sighing, sometimes Peggy never stopped with her questions.
Peggy nodded, "When do I leave?"
"Tonight," Colonel Phillips replied, glancing at his watch, "More specifically, in two hours."
Peggy nodded and walked away, not wasting time with a goodbye.
Peggy swiftly walked up the stairs to the apartment that she rented from a kind, elderly woman and, taking a key out of her purse, she unlocked the door.
She pushed the door open and surveyed her surroundings, making sure that nothing was out of place. She walked through the connecting doorway into her room and opened the closed, reaching into the depths of the top and pulling out a simple brown bag. She opened the bag and sat it on her bed, the sheets crumpling beneath it.