American Girl
by Jo Ann Curl
Elliott Stokes had a great love and it all began on a long trip home from war in Korea. It was an enchanting young woman that by chance he met on a train ride and lay over in a small town. She had become the All American Girl in his eyes, but in his heart he knew then he wanted her to be his American Girl and someday possibly his wife.
Julia/Eliot, Vicki, Hallie
Collinsport, 1990
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Hallie sat at her Uncle Eliot's Desk, clutching the cherished ledger to her chest as she looked distractedly at the now setting sun. The office at the Stokes’ cottage had grown cold and soon would be in darkness. With a soft sigh she stood walked out of the room to the front parlor and paused.
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Vicki looked over at the tragic figure and offered her a sad smile. "I know it’s hard, Hallie, but they’re together now, and I’m sure they’re with us in spirit."
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Hallie glanced at the aging beauty before her and nodded slowly. "I know. I just miss them with all my heart and wonder if Julia knew how much Uncle Eliot really loved her."
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Vicki approached the woman and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "She thought she loved Barnabas but eventually realized that was a dead end. Now more than ever I am convinced she knew how much love Eliot held for her."
Hallie looked down at the ledger in her arms. "I’d like you to read this." Vicki guided the younger lady to the door.
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"I would be honored to read something your uncle wrote. Now come along, dear, the family will be expecting us for dinner tonight. David is already at Collinwood; he called to see where we were."
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Hallie nodded, buttoned up her coat and followed her companion out, pausing to peer inside one last time before securing the door. The drive to Collinwood was in silence, Vicki leaving the woman to her private thoughts. It was probably just as well since the roadway was almost obscured by a heavy fog coming in from the Atlantic seaboard, which made driving less than desirable.
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Soon enough they made their way to the entry gate to the great estate and Vicki navigated the town car through the gate and up the curving driveway to the porte-cochère. Shutting off the engine, she turned to Hallie. "Here we are."
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Still hugging the ledger, Hallie turned to Vicki and smiled. "Here, read this and tell me what you think." She placed the book on the bench seat between them and slid from the passenger seat. Vicki glanced at the cover and noted the gold embossed lettering: T.E. Stokes. She gently touched the inscription, struck with a sudden sadness. This was the man’s personal diary with his private thoughts; it felt as if she were prying. However, Hallie had asked her to read it, so she would. It was hard for her to face the fact that Eliot and Julia were no longer with them, and she would not have their wisdom to draw from as she faced the countless new problems which seemed to pop up all the time.
Locked away in her office after dinner, Vicki, with a bit of trepidation, reached for the ledger in front of her. Again the feeling of being a voyeur filled her as she opened the book and read the dedication.
To Julia, you are the love of my life. Now you will know how much you affected me.
Vicki felt a quick prick of tears sting her eyes as she moved past the page and began to read.
War is hell, and I know more than most what kind of hell it is. Today I wrote out fifty more letters to mothers, wives, fathers, brothers, sisters, and children that a loved one would not be coming home. The most horrible part is that there is nothing to send home. The other twenty letters were to loved ones saying their brave brother, son, uncle or father is missing in action. How do you tell someone they may never even get to morn their lost one or put closure to the hell that is war, and this was the war to end all wars.
Feeling her lids grow heavy, Vicki leaned back and drew the journal to her lap, thinking she would rest her eyes for a moment, and fell into a deep sleep. There she found in her dream-like world a time she knew Professor Stokes had lived through, and she, in a shadow form, began to watch his life unfold before her.
Eliot looked up, removing his monocle as a young corporal entered his tent.
"Colonel, the wounded are being loaded onto the transport plane, you will be joining them?"
Eliot nodded. "I am almost done, Smitty, thank you."
World War II had ended, according to the announcement from Washington, and now the U.S. Army was sending its beleaguered and injured home. Stokes had chosen to travel with the wounded men who had fought so bravely and were no longer whole; it was an obligation he felt he should fulfill. Packing the ledger into his valise, the colonel reached for his hat and slid it into place. For a moment his mind was haunted by the spirits of those departed men who had plagued his dreams since the letters were sent. It was like whispers turning into the buzzing of the thousands who had given their lives to stop Hitler's move throughout the world.
Pausing, the colonel was reminded of a vivid dream he had had the night before, in which, in a spectral form, he watched dispassionately as the rat-faced man with a smudge of a mustache put a Ruger to the head of his lover and fired. Then, without hesitation, he pointed the barrel of the same gun to himself and pulled the trigger. Coward, Eliot thought; he wished he had been the one kill the man and send that miserable human being to hell’s fiery pits.
With no regret, Stokes proceeded to the cargo plane which awaited him, saluting the lesser ranks as he moved along. His mind was focused on two things: The safe return of these men to their loved ones and his return to college to obtain his doctorate. The degree had been his dream and the pursuit of that dream had unfortunately been put on hold when his country entered the war.
Now Eliot was set to go home and begin anew that dream of his, to study the occult. One of the reasons he had been stationed in London was because Intelligence had uncovered information that Hitler, fascinated with the paranormal, was collecting occult artifacts in a hope of channeling those powers to reign supreme over the world and crush his enemies.
Eliot's job had been to be present when those artifacts were retrieved, catalogue them, then ship the items to a base known as Area 51 located in Nevada—a place he had every intention of visiting before being discharged from the service; civilians were not allowed on the base.
Lost in his own thoughts, the colonel climbed the ramp to find a seat midway through the plane’s cargo area. It was filled with the smell of antiseptic and soft moans of the men that lay in pain. Eliot looked around, removed his hat and leaned his head back against the wall. The flight crew, nurses and captain of the aircraft moved among those in their charge, speaking words of comfort and encouragement.
A hand gently touched Eliot's shoulder and the soft smell of perfume filled his nostrils. Opening his eyes, he peered up at a kind-faced nurse who said softly, "Sir, they’re ready for takeoff, you need to secure yourself."
Eliot smiled at the young lady and pushed his arms through the jump seat’s straps. He could feel the rough bumps as the wheels moved along the make-shift runway and then the pressure of lifting off. He glanced over the tight confines of the plane’s interior, noting the men as they waited and possibly prayed they would not be shot out of the sky by Nazi troops.
As the plane gained altitude, Eliot reached for his valise and pulled out the ledger. He began to pen his thoughts as the flight was to be more than fourteen hours before landing on a naval aircraft carrier. Eliot wanted to make sure he recorded his dream about Hitler’s demise so he could compare it to what history would record. This could prove he was clairvoyant and that he had, in fact, been a witness to the death. This was an area the military had been experimenting with for some time.
Eliot had always harbored a desire to transcend time and see if history had been accurate or altered. Now, more than ever, the world seemed to be exploding into new areas of enlightenment, and he wanted to make his mark on history and to see if the occult could be more than something of darkness and evil intent.
The landing on the ship was not one Eliot would soon forget. He felt a hint of trepidation as the plane made the approach and began its descent. For a moment, the colonel thought they would belly up in the sea, but the plane landed safely on the short, incredibly short runway on the USS Lexington. The ship’s crew scrambled to help unload the precious cargo of the aircraft and secure the injured men in sickbay. Eliot was introduced to the ship’s captain and invited to dine in his cabin, where the evening dealt in polite social niceties as the ship slowly progressed to Pensacola. Their sluggish pace afforded Eliot some personal time for research and note-taking as he perused the ship’s available reading material.
After arriving in Florida, the colonel once again found himself in the company of wounded soldiers scheduled to be transported to the military medical center in Bethesda, Maryland, again feeling to urge to accompany the men who had fought so valiantly. The railroad trip was sure to be tedious but soon enough he would be back in Washington and after a debriefing, could set his sights on a PhD. If nothing else, this thought afforded him a sense of excitement; he had many ideas about what would be the topic of his dissertation.
The clackity clack of the train’s wheels on the metal rail and the jerky sway did not much provide ideal writing conditions so Eliot chose instead to nap or occasionally look out the window and enjoy the view of rural America. It was early afternoon as they neared a small town and the locomotive slowed going into the yards, more than likely the train needed to switch tracks to get to their destination. It was during this that Eliot became aware of some excitement from the wounded males as shouts of "American girl!" rang through the corridors. The train began to wobble as the engineer
slowed the train to a stop and again there was a hub of excited male voices. "God, she’s beautiful! It’s an American girl! All American girl!"
A military police officer approached Eliot and spoke softly. "Um, sir, there is a teenage girl with a couple of boys outside the train who seems to be causing the men to get agitated. What do you suggest?"
Eliot had to chuckle. Of course these men had not seen a bona fide American female for some time and this would no doubt cause a stir. How could one young lady create such a morale booster?
Eliot sighed. "Why not go and fetch the young lady and escort her to the men so she can speak with them and allow them speak with her. I am sure the engineer would appreciate us stopping the shift of weight from the onrush of men."
Corporal Lane nodded and smiled at the Colonel. "You’re right, they are excited; maybe this is what they need before going back to rehab."
Julia Hoffman stood lean and unaffected in her tee shirt and cut off blue jeans, her budding body displayed at its discrete best. The men ogled her long legs, tanned from a summer of running wild with her friends and playing in the back yard with the neighborhood boys. Her long red hair was pulled back in a single plat which fell rakishly over her shoulder. Her smoky dark eyes peered at the train of soldiers who seemed to think she was important.
Julia’s brother moved to tackle her, but she deftly sidestepped him only to be sacked by her best friend, George. Lifting her hips up, the girl hooked her legs around his neck and flipped him over. This only caused the train passengers to shout "Wow! Kick their butts!" She smiled shyly at the men and moved towards the service road of the train tracks.
"What’s your name?" "How old are you?" "Are you married?" "Do you know you’re beautiful?" The questions bombarded her and she tried in vain to answer them all. It was not until she saw two stern-faced men in uniform marching shoulder to shoulder towards her that Julia felt apprehension. She wondered what was going to happen when they stopped before her and saluted. "Miss?" Julia glanced up from a fall of heavy lush lashes and looked pensively at them.
"Yes?"
The taller of the two MPs smiled, seeing she was scared. "Would you do us the honor of walking along the track to meet some of the wounded soldiers returning home from overseas?"
Julia nodded. "Of course." The men then escorted her along the track walking for nearly a half mile while she shook hands and answered questions, smiling at the servicemen.
As they neared the last car, the MP smiled, "The men in here cannot stand would you mind joining me so they can meet an American girl? You see they’ve been away a long time. I’m sure it will cheer them greatly to see and talk to you."
Julia was grateful that the one thing she had done before leaving the house was to apply a dab of White Shoulders perfume. As she entered the antiseptic smelling car she was immediately aware of the nurses who watched her with quiet amusement. The soft scent of her cologne wafted down the aisle and she moved among the wounded, smiling and shaking hands with them, answering their questions. As she neared the end of the car her attention was arrested by the intense look of a handsome officer who did not appear to be injured. He stood and immediately Julia became aware of the others growing respectful in his presence.
"My dear young lady, you have no idea how beautiful you are to these men who have given so much for their country in order that you may run free."
Julia was touched as she looked around at the shattered bodies, desperate to drink in the American way of life which, at that moment, was what she represented to those soldiers. As the teenager observed them, she resolved to someday choose a profession to give back to these brave men.
The officer with soul-piercing grey eyes studied the lovely features of the emergent young lady before him. To him she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he decided then and there to devote his life to discovering who she was and down what path her life would lead her.
Eliot took the girl’s slender hand into his and kissed it in a gentlemanly fashion. "Thank you my dear for bringing a breath of fresh air and joy into our war-torn lives."
A train conductor entered the car. "The engineer is ready to move on, sir, would you please inform the others to take their seats so we may be on our way."
Julia smiled at the gentleman with the grey eyes and followed the MPs to disembark from the train and be escorted back to her brother and friends. As the locomotive pulled away, Julia waved, smiled and blew kisses to the young soldiers who had put her on a pedestal and made her feel special for a while.
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Eliot felt thunder struck; he found his emotions were wrapped up in something more pleasant than horrific war memories as the train pulled away from the small town and made its headway to the eastern sea board.
After being released from his tour of duty and service in the United States Army, Eliot accomplished one of his goals: he made the trip to Nevada and toured Area 51, where the man was permitted to see the artifacts he had come to call his secured, 21 stories beneath the earth's surface in an airtight room. He knew these objects would never see the light of day again. Eliot was allowed to take photos of the items as long as he kept them confidential. His time was consumed with recording and cataloging as much as he could about these artifacts. He maintained a book of his findings and then had his notes transcribed to turn over to the Central Intelligence Agency.
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Not long after, another conflict arose and Eliot was called upon to serve his country again, this time as a consultant while the troops were deployed to Korea. When that tour ended, the man packed his doctoral degree and headed north where he was hired by the University of Maine to teach Occult Studies and History.
Years passed, and on lonely nights, Professor Stokes’ mind wandered back to the memory of the beautiful girl he had met briefly so long ago. He wondered what had become of her, that sweet young lady whose name he recalled was Julia. How could he forget that fiery red hair, those dark, thoughtful eyes and that developing, slender body? He had tried to find out her last name and what became of her, but his own life had taken unexpected turns and twists which diverted his attention.
Eliot’s tenure was secure and, as he approached early retirement and an emeritus position, he continued to dwell on the beautiful woman who haunted his dreams.
He passed the time by investigating his family heritage where the professor was able to trace his family line back to the 1700s. One ancestor, Ben Stokes, had lived in a small shipping village called Collinsport, Maine, and had lived a rather interesting life. Eliot began to collect memorabilia from that period. It was at this juncture of his life he met two Collinsport residents who caught his attention: Barnabas Collins and Victoria Winters. Miss Winters gave the impression she had experienced the events of the past first hand, and Collins seemed to know more than he was willing to reveal.
In the course of pursuing his interest, Eliot discovered that a pre-eminent female doctor was now a part of the lives of those who lived in the great house of Collinwood. The appearance of one Julia Hoffman, a blood specialist and
psychiatrist, caught him by completely by surprise.
It was his Julia, the woman about whom he had concocted a romanticized image of the most beautiful girl in the world. By providence, she had fallen back into his life at a time when he needed a woman to anchor him and give him and fulfillment. She was older, wiser and now equal in status. He knew then, as he knew those many years ago, this was the woman he wanted to bare his children, carry his name and love him as he loved her.
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For many a night Eliot anguished over whether to tell the doctor of his feelings. However, he soon realized that Julia manifested an obsession for Barnabas Collins and he chose to not interfere in her life or happiness. He always believed in fate and if it was to be, then he would be content with whatever life he was dealt. Until then, the professor
would sit on the sidelines and watch as Julia fought her feelings and longing for Barnabas. After finding a short-lived marriage with Collins was not exactly what she wanted from life, the doctor had turned her brilliant brain towards the same field of endeavor with which he had been involved for many years.
It was not until such time that Barnabas finally proclaimed his love for Victoria that Eliot felt secure enough to rekindle his interest in Julia. That was when he proposed and held his breath in anticipation. During their honeymoon Eliot confessed to his bride where they originally met and how he had loved her from the moment when she had stepped onto that train. Julia laughed and hugged him, confiding that she knew who he was from the moment she met him at Collinwood. She had often thought fondly of him as well.
Victoria felt a light touch on her cheek and startled awake. She looked up into the loving gaze of her husband as he gently withdrew the ledger from her lap. "My darling, is it not time to put down your reading and come to bed?"
Vicki smiled bittersweetly. "Yes, my love, it is that, but I wanted to finish this so I could give it back to Hallie."
Barnabas observed the ledger with Stokes' name embossed on the cover. "You know he is always with us, and now they are together, as it should be."
Vicki rose to embrace her husband. "I know and that is why I’m not so sad now and I know that Eliot is now with his most beautiful girl in the world."
Barnabas kissed his wife's forehead and sighed, "You are my most beautiful girl in the world. Now come to bed; we have big day tomorrow."
Enfolding his wife in his arms, Barnabas gently led her from the room. As he closed the door, the translucent figures of Julia and Eliot appeared in the room. Julia lovingly touched the ledger and smiled through eyes of love into the face of the man at her side.
"You wrote it down?"
He nodded and kissed the tip of her nose. "How could I not, you inspired me, my dearest Julia. You will always be to me the most beautiful girl in the world."
Fading out of view, they strolled hand in hand towards the path to Widows’ Hill where they stood and admired the sight.
Jo A Curl was born in the Midwest and grew up with the old fashioned values of home family and community. Having a background in many different careers: Navy, law enforcement, paralegal-investigator, and always in one form or another, customer-client service. Jo retired to do what she loved the most and that was to write. While growing up, she, like so many others started watching Dark Shadows at an early age, captivated by that and Star Trek, and wrote fanfiction for both shows. After high school, Jo married her childhood sweetheart. When that failed, she met her second husband; they staged a Klingon wedding which was featured Wild Weddings on the Learning Channel. Jo is the author of 28 Dark Shadows and Star Trek fanfictions posted at Fanfiction.net and has a Facebook page titled My Dark Shadows 1966-1990.