Nathan looked forward to Sweet Springs' annual picnic with great relish. It meant a time to relax...a time to enjoy the interactions with town folk he rarely got to see, given his busy schedule.

The picnic area spread as a carpet of green that settled beneath tall, burnt orange and yellow shade trees. The southern portion cut off at the edge of a sparkling blue lake. There, a small crowd gathered and cheered on several boats of teen boys rowing in competition.

The grounds bustled with children standing with colorful balloons and pink cotton candy. The most elderly welcomed the bright humid air; their arthritic joints sucked up the heat from paradise. They called it medicine from God.

The women shielded their milky white skin with frilly umbrellas and New York fashionable wide brim hats. While some men gave their flesh willingly to the hot rays and showed off their bronze muscles as they pitched tents and unloaded crates of food, games and beverages.

"Look, Uncle Nate!" Ellie shouted, performing a perfect headstand.

"Be careful; don't hurt yourself," Nathan yelled back.

Eva remained unmoved by the event. Watching children play proved an unwanted reminder of what she and Nathan would never have together.

"Ella, stop pulling your sister's hair," Elisabeth bellowed.

"She pulled mine first," Ella yelled, twisting her pale fist around Ellie's strawberry curls.

Jenny ran and parted the entangled twins. "I swear, you two act more like you're five instead of twelve," she scolded.

They went their separate ways for a time. Ten minutes later, they were giggling and painting each other's faces with chocolate ice cream.

"God, it's a beautiful day," Nathan said, looking at Eva, "not a cloud in the sky."

"Yes, honey, the loveliest of days," she forced herself to say.

"I'll never get those stains out," Merald fussed, watching the twins throw ice cream at each other.

"Don't worry yourself, dear," Elisabeth asserted, handing a piled plate of food to Koren. "Next year they won't be able to wear those outfits anyway."

"So true," Jenny said. "I've never seen kids outgrow clothes as fast as those two."

"Who wants pie?" Elisabeth blurted out to the girls.

"Me!" Both yelled in unison, racing to the picnic table.

Koren and Nathan looked at each other playfully to see which one would grab the last piece of fried chicken. As the two played off each other, Koren began to notice small groups of men sporadically leaving their tables. They buzzed around each other while stretching their necks to see over other men's shoulders. More and more men added themselves until just a few tables were left with men sitting at them.

"What's that all about?" Koren asked, stuffing his mouth with potato salad.

Nathan looked over and squinted his eyes. "I don't know."

When Nathan saw that only he, Koren, and a few other men were still seated, he left the table to see what was going on. By the time he reached the crowd, there were so many layers of men, he had to part them like the Red Sea.

He gently pushed his way inside until he stood behind the man who had caused all the commotion. He held a newspaper that read in big, bold letters, GERMANY SINKS LUSITANIA. Nathan left the man still reading the article out loud and made his way back to the table. When he broke the news, everyone appeared stunned.

"What does this mean?" Eva asked, cutting herself a slice of pie.

"I'm not sure. Nearly two thousand on board. Over a hundred and fifty were Americans. No survivors," Nathan said.

"Does this mean we're going to war?" Elisabeth asked. She tapped Ellie's hand for eating with her fingers.

"The papers say the government believes the Germans may not have known Americans were on board. So they're not seeing it as an act of war."

"God help us," Koren said, looking up from his plate. He reached for the last piece of chicken and saw it was gone. He glanced at Nathan who looked away smiling like a cat with a canary feather hanging from its mouth.

**************

Weeks after the picnic, while the women busied themselves maintaining the small town life, the men gathered, mostly at barbershops, private club rooms, and bars, debating whether or not America should enter the war. The older men were opposed, thinking of their sons; the younger men, unafraid, couldn't wait to go.

"I say we kick those Heinies' asses," young Thorton blurted, after swilling a beer.

"Yeah...we'll show them sour bellies what's what," answered another young man.

"I thought sure we'd get involved after finding Americans among the dead when they sunk the Lusitania," the bartender said, shaking his head.

"Ahh...government claims it was an accident."

"It was no goddamn accident. Them Germans knew what they were doing."

"I don't know why President Wilson is dragging his feet."

"I say let's get involved and end this damn war before more Americans are killed," a man blurted.

"Yeah!" several men shouted, their beer mugs in hand. Suddenly, a loud voice rose above the noisy crowd.

"You young fools think war is a game?" The place went silent. An elderly man sitting at the end of the bar stared at them defiantly.

"Do you know what it's like standing eyeball-to-eyeball with a man and looking down the barrel of his gun?" he asked. "You know what it's like to shoot a man in the gut and watch the fire go out of his eyes? Or see his brains fly up in the air...hang from a tree branch like noodles? Or having to blast a hole in a sixteen-year-old kid just because he's wearing a different uniform?"

"Do you?" blurted young Thorton.

The seventy-five-year old man moved away from the bar and raised his pant leg, exposing a huge dent covered with layers of sinking white flesh where the calf of his leg used to bulge. He let the pant leg drop, turned and lifted his eye patch showing off a missing eye, with folds of skin covering it, like a boarded-up window.

"Civil War," he boasted, lowering the black patch.

"So, what are you saying old man...we just sit here, wait for them Germans to sink an American ship next time?"

"No.

"You saying we shouldn't go to war?" another asked.

"No. Just don't be so damn eager for it. The old man returned to his beer as the bar room returned to buzzing with tough talk, beer guzzling, and laughter.

**************

Eva planned a magnificent dinner. She invited Nathan and the Korens. Above the normal chatter, Nate and Koren brought the argument about war from the smoke room to the dinner table.

"Oh no you don't," Eva scolded Nathan.

"Now, you promised to give that kind of talk a rest," Elisabeth said, turning to Koren.

"Alright," Koren answered.

"Nate," Eva said, looking disapprovingly.

"I heard you, Eva. I'm not deaf."

"Uncle Nate."

"Yes, Ellie."

"Jimmy Ellis said his dad said that if we go to war, we have to give up our animals. Jimmy said the government will come and take Chester and Joey."

"Oh, no honey. Chester is your pet. Only dogs that are trained will go to war. And, well, Joey is a cat. They will mostly use horses, mules, trained dogs and even pigeons."

"What can birds do in a war, Uncle Nate?" A wide-eyed Ella asked.

"They can fly way up in the sky, above the shooting and carry messages that would be needed to help us win the war."

"Really, Uncle Nate?"

"Really," Nate said, smiling at the innocent brightness in her eyes.

"Hey, if I can't talk about war at the table, then neither will you two," Koren said to his girls.

"Ah, Daddy," Ella whined.

After dinner, the girls played outside. Koren and Nathan occupied the smoke room and took up the argument where they left off. However, away from the ears of their men, the women quietly discussed their fears of a pending war.

"I pray to God He gives President Wilson the wisdom not to involve us in Europe's war," Elisabeth expressed, sipping her tea.

"I pretend not to pay attention to the newspapers when Nate's reading, but from what I've read, we may not be able to stay out of it." She poured herself a cup. "These attacks by German U-boats on our shipping and receiving goods are hurting American pocketbooks."

"I know. That's all Koren talks about noon and night. Thank God, we have girls. Heaven help the town folk with draft-age sons," Elisabeth said. Eva became noticeably shaken and stood.

"Eva, what's wrong?

"You've always referred to Nate as your son. Now you're smirking because you have none to go to war. I find that rather interesting." Eva forced her cup and saucer aside, walked over to the window and peered out. Elisabeth followed her.

"How could you say such a thing to me? I wasn't smirking. And Nate will always be a son to me." She put her arm around Eva's waist. "Oh, dear, you're worrying over nothing; we may never even enter the war. And even if we did, Nate is in his mid-thirties. They'll want to draft younger men."

"You don't understand; they've deployed millions of horses and other animals all over Europe. Even if we don't enter the war, I hear talk that American veterinarians are requesting to go to Europe to help with medically treating the animals. They're saying as the war continues, they'll need the extra help.

"But surely Nathan wouldn't go. He...he wouldn't volunteer to leave us?"

"That's what they've been arguing about all evening. Doctor Koren's been trying to talk him out of it. I wanted to keep it from you and the twins as long as possible."

"That's why you shut him up at the table?"

"Yes."

Elisabeth dropped her head and walked away from the window. "God no. Not my Nate," she said.