by Linda Ellen
The brothers rode along in companionable silence as they crossed the rest of the way over the four-lane cantilevered truss bridge linking Louisville with Jeffersonville, Indiana. Steve gazed out the passenger window toward east, the general direction of the ammunition plant, although he couldn’t see any of the facility from there as the river curved to the left several miles up.
Lights from the shore reflected on the calm water flowing down river and under the surface of the bridge. He knew that Coast Guard Station #276, the only “floating” life-saving station in the country, was located above the falls of the Ohio, but he wondered if anyone considered it a priority to actually patrol the inland waters…
The movie had brought it home for him how seemingly innocuous people could actually be high-level spies out to cause mayhem and destruction. In spite of what he had told Pvt. Sheldon about the ordnance works not being an easy target, he now pictured Zeroes roaring overhead and strafing the buildings and people. He’d even dreamed once of the huge bunkers of stored ammo exploding, sending flames and debris into the sky.
Now, he thought about Twelve-Mile Island, which was situated directly across the river from the northern edge of the plant’s vast acreage. That island must be nearly a mile long and at least a thousand feet wide… If the enemy could get down river that far, they could coordinate a raid from the midst of that mass of thick brush and trees. All they’d have to do is get across the river from there, watch out for patrols, and find a way over or under the electrified fence…Nah, cut it out! He shook his head as the mental images caused a shiver to reverberate through his body.
He reached under his jacket, into his shirt pocket, and retrieved a nearly full pack of cigarettes along with a book of matches. Then he felt Gene cast a glance over at him as they passed under a street light at the ramp on the Indiana side. He knew what was coming, and it wasn’t long before his brother remarked, “Thought you were laying off of those things.”
Steve answered with one of his customary shrugs and tapped a cig out from the pack. “Sort of. I’ve cut way back. I just…you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” Gene answered, opening his mouth as if to say something, but then shutting it again and facing the road. After a minute, he asked, “So…what’d you say to Mary June to set her off like that earlier?”
Immediately, the memory of the heavenly feeling from the first part of their dance came back to Steve and he marveled at it a moment before answering. Finally, he shrugged nonchalantly and uttered, “Danged if I know. Everything was goin’ like grease. One minute we were dancing, gettin’ kind of cozy, and the next, she’s hissing at me like a scalded cat.”
“Well, you must have said something,” Gene insisted. Steve met his brother’s gaze across the bench seat and the knowing gleam in his eyes made him guess that Viv had already clued him in; he was just fishing to get Steve to fess up.
Steve sent him a sheepish grin, tilted his Garrison cap back a bit, and admitted to the portion of the exchange that had flipped the girl’s trigger to rapid-fire.
Gene seemed to stifle a laugh of male camaraderie, cleared his throat, and gave his brother that look.
“Awe now, back off, pal, you ain’t my old man,” Steve mock-warned.
Gene laughed. “Maybe not, but I’m your older brother.”
Steve had been in the act of lighting the cigarette and he spit out a shot of smoke. “Pffft, yeah right!” he chortled. “By what – ten minutes?”
Gene flashed him a wide grin and raised one shoulder slightly. “Older’s older.” Then waxing serious, he said, “Look bro, I don’t know where you got your info about women, but you can’t just go saying things like that to…well, to a decent girl. You practically called her a heifer! No wonder she blew up. What girl wants to be compared to the bovine variety of the animal kingdom? Webster’s defines cattle as slow-moving, dull-witted creatures, you know.”
Steve snickered in spite of himself. “I see your point.”
“And by the way – you lumped my girl in with the rest of the Holstein’s with that observation. You’re lucky Viv’s the forgiving kind, or you might have found yourself on the receiving end of a high-heeled shoe – upside your head.”
At that image, Steve laughed out loud. “Okay, okay. I get it. No more cow jokes.”
They laughed together for a while, and then as Gene turned the steering wheel to make the connection to Route 62 toward Charlestown, he asked casually, “So…you gonna ask her out?”
Steve tossed a few ribald comments around in his head, but decided to shoot straight. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted. “Now, though…think she’d say yes?”
A mysterious twinkle accompanied another of Gene’s smiles and he glanced over and wiggled his eyebrows. “She might.”
Steve raised his brows in a silent request for more info, but Gene merely grinned like a man with a secret.
With a soft chuckle at his identical brother, Steve turned back to look out his window and up at the night sky, the stars twinkling so far up in the heavens.
She might, huh? Hmmm…
Mary June sat listening to Pastor Bob’s sermon the next day…or rather, half listening, and half trying to push away thoughts of the aggravating man whose likeness seemed to be trying to crowd out everything else in her head. The image of sparkling blue eyes and that infuriating grin he’d shot her way after he had matter-of-factly declared, “Told you, didn’t I?”
Unconsciously, she huffed out a frustrated breath. Why did thinking of that make her face feel hot, and her pulse quicken, and her teeth clamp together? Humiliation? Yes. Steve casually confronting her with her baser motives had made her feel exposed, as if she were out on the dance floor in her underwear. She had, after all, wanted to stand out above the other girls for one evening. Is that so wrong?
Unbidden, Miss Warren’s voice from her dressing down in the office after the dance rang in her mind, “I’m surprised at you, Miss Harriman. Wearing a dress that borders on provocative? When you signed a pledge to dress conservatively and to provide a good, moral influence and a clean wholesome enjoyable experience for our young men in uniform who frequent the club?” She stewed for a minute, squirming in her seat, and in the privacy of her mind, she sighed. Yeah, that was wrong, Mary June. And Steve called you on it. He nailed your hide to the wall. That’s why it made you so mad…
Viv, sitting in the pew next to her, leaned close and whispered, “You okay?”
Mary June flung a look her way and nodded. “Yeah, just restless,” she whispered back.
Determined to get the contrary man out of her thoughts, she resolutely focused on the sermon and managed to keep up with the proceedings all the way through to the closing hymn and prayer. Rising, she tugged on the jacket of her best, most conservative Sunday suit, gathered her pocketbook and gloves that matched the smart little hat she had pinned to the top of her customary Victory Rolls, and moved with the rest of the congregation to the front doors.
Outside in the bright sunshine of that transition time between late summer and early autumn, Mary June stood behind Viv’s family, in line to shake the pastor’s hand. Looking around, she spotted Mr. & Mrs. Goss, her next-door neighbors with whom she rode to church each week, and gave them a small wave. Once again, she thanked God for her kind neighbors, who years before had asked her parents if they could take their children to church. The Harriman’s had agreed. Mary June’s older brother had shown no interest, so the kindly, older childless couple had faithfully done their Christian duty and brought her along with them. They had become like a second set of parents to the young girl. As a teen, she had accepted Christ, but it had been difficult for her to grow in her walk with the Lord, since her parents and brother were not people of faith. She prayed all the time that the situation at home would change.
Stepping forward after the Powells, she shook the pastor’s hand and told him she enjoyed the sermon. He accepted the compliment, but the twinkle in his green eyes told her that he’d seen she’d
been distracted. They exchanged a few more words, then she made her way down the steps and over to the Powells to bid them goodbye.
Just as she reached them, Gene’s black Ford rattled into the parking lot and the four of them could see the chastened look on his face through the windshield.
“There you are,” Viv called as he parked and hopped out, rounding the front end to greet Viv and give her a quick kiss before acknowledging her parents and Mary June.
Mr. Powell laughed. “You’re making a habit of arriving late to church, son.”
Gene had the grace to blush, and Mary June thought it endearing to see that malady happening to a man. “I know, sir. I overslept…again.” He squeezed Viv to his side as she stood gazing up at him, obviously smitten.
“Would you like to join us for lunch?” Mrs. Powell offered, but Gene shook his head. “Thank you ma’am, but…actually, I was hoping you and I could do something, Viv. I know it’s short notice, but…are you up for going on a picnic?”
Viv smiled her delight at the man she was going to marry and nodded. “I’d love to.” Then, she turned toward Mary June and opened her mouth to tell her friend goodbye, but Gene interrupted before she could.
“Actually, I was thinking we could make it a foursome with Steve…that is, if you want to Mary June…and you don’t have anything planned…” He looked toward her hopefully.
Caught off guard, Mary June blinked several times and glanced at the various faces, the Goss’s, the Powells, Viv and Gene – all staring at her as if her answer were very important. What was up with that?
“Does he know about this?” She ventured, uncertainty clear in her voice. She had not spoken to him since she had flounced off and dragged Viv to the powder room the evening before. Once she had returned to the dance hall, she had seen him at various points and times, with different girls in his arms as he enjoyed himself. She hadn’t missed the fact that he was quite a good dancer, better than most. It was obvious that the other girls enjoyed themselves with him, as well. Once or twice in the remaining time before the dance ended, their eyes had briefly met, but that had been the extent of it. Again, she wondered what he had thought of her heated responses to his teasing.
Gene nodded. “When I dropped him off last night, we talked about getting together today. Thought we’d go over and pick him up, then find something fun to do in his neck of the woods. He said he was up for it.”
“Brown County Park is not too far from there,” Mr. Powell offered.
“That sounds perfect!” Viv gushed. Turning to her mother, she said, “Mom, will you help us get some sandwiches and things together?”
Her mother’s eyes sparkled with something Mary June couldn’t define, and she inclined her head. “I think we could scrounge up something for you kids to take along.”
“Here they come,” Viv announced as she and Mary June watched the brothers walking toward the car from the main gate of the Charlestown plant.
Viv laughed softly as she watched her fiancé interacting with his brother. “Look at them. Isn’t it amazing how alike they are? Especially wearing the same caps like that,” she stated, noting that Gene had opted to wear his informal foldable military cap rather than his billed hat. She went on, “They walk the same, they laugh at the same things…if one didn’t know them it would be very hard to tell them apart.” She smiled as she watched Gene tilt his head and confide something to Steve, which made them both let loose with a guffaw. “It’s such a shame that they weren’t allowed to grow up together.”
“Yeah…but I’d say they’re doing pretty good making up for lost time,” Mary June observed from the back seat. Her eyes had been trained on the corporal for the length of their stroll to the car. It seemed to do no good to tell herself not to react to him. Normally, she was a levelheaded girl who didn’t get flustered by just any Tom, Dick or Harry. Since the war started, she’d been around literally thousands of GI’s and none had ever caught her fancy. So…why did this one? Twisting her hands in her lap, she braced herself for his first words when he climbed into the back seat.
The two doors opened and the soldiers clambered in. Settling into the back of the car next to her, Steve turned his head to meet her eyes.
“Hey.”
She inclined her head a bit. “Hey, yourself.”
With a wry but soft twist of his lips, Steve cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry about all that last night. I didn’t mean to get you upset like that.”
Her eyes flared in slight surprise and she took a relaxing breath. “That’s all right. I shouldn’t have worn the dress…you were right about that. And I won’t wear it there again, that’s for sure. I definitely had enough of standing out from the…herd.”
Steve groaned and Gene burst out laughing. After a moment, Viv and Mary June joined in the laughter, and the ice was broken.
When the chuckles subsided, Mary June glanced over at her seatmate and smiled. “You’re forgiven.”
He reached up and touched his Garrison cap, raising it just a bit as he mumbled with a wink, “Thank ya, ma’am.”
Gene started up the vehicle and turned the wheel to head out the gate and back onto Highway 62. “Okay gang – lovely ladies in the car and picnic basket in the trunk. Next port of call, Brown County Park.”
Steve leaned up and touched his brother on the shoulder. “Hey, a buddy of mine told me about something that the girls might like. Matter of fact, I’m kind of looking forward to it, too.”
Viv turned in her seat and grinned at him. “Ooo, now I’m intrigued. What is it?”
Steve chuckled and shook his head. “As they say, loose lips sink ships,” and he playfully pretended to turn a lock on his lips and “stuff” the key in his pocket.
Both girls giggled.
Mary June settled back in her seat, feeling both anticipation as well as exhilaration at what his secret could be.
Whatever it is…I have a feeling this is going to be a day we shall all remember…
CHAPTER 6
“Jiminy Cricket, that was good, but I can’t eat another bite,” Mary June sighed as she propped herself on the quilt with one hand and patted her full belly. “I’ve always loved your mom’s potato salad, Viv.”
Vivian laughed. “I’ll have you know that I can make it just as good as her now…it’s just that I didn’t have time.” Mary June gave her friend a teasing grin and Viv’s mouth dropped open in playful affront. “I can! But yesterday, with the shopping trip and then the dance last night…”
“I’m just teasing. It worked out great that she made it last night, huh? It didn’t take long to get the picnic together.” Looking around the lush green of the park, she let her eyes wander the smooth dirt trails meandering through stands of trees that had not yet begun to change their colors in preparation for the fall and winter season. She breathed in a deep breath of clean, clear air, thinking how peaceful it was there…and how vastly different it was compared to what they heard on the radio all the time – about the world at war on continents many miles away…
She turned her attention to her companions, spread out on the oversized quilt. The brothers, wearing identical khaki uniforms – the only difference being the stripes on their sleeves – were stretched out on either side of the girls and facing opposite directions – Gene with his head near Viv and Steve’s head closer to Mary June. His proximity made tingles constantly zing over her skin like static through her hair whenever she wore a wool sweater.
“Yeah, this was swell. Matter of fact…I don’t think I’ve ever been on a picnic before. Especially with two lovely young ladies…and a two-headed brother along for a few laughs,” Steve lazily drawled, throwing a teasing wink his brother’s way. Gene balled up a piece of wax paper his sandwich had been wrapped in and launched it at his brother, hitting him in the center of his forehead. Steve laughed and threw it right back.
Mary June looked at Steve and he met her eyes for a brief moment. For an instant, she spied the lonely, hurt little boy inside of him th
at his comment had hinted at before he quickly masked it with his usual smirk. That tiny flare, however, squeezed her heart like a big fist. She had to fight the urge to reach over and let her fingers caress his face or even pull him into a warm, comforting hug. Instead, she asked softly, “Was it bad for you, Steve…growing up?”
The others trained their eyes on him and he seemed to falter for a few seconds. Reaching a hand behind him, past the edge of the quilt, he plucked a long piece of dried grass to chew on and stuck one end in his mouth. Then he shrugged, Mary June thought a bit fatalistically, and mumbled, “It wasn’t so bad when my da…” he stopped and corrected, “my adopted father, Jack Wheeler, was alive. We had plenty to eat. I had toys, and friends, and we had a great house to live in – even had my own room. I guess we lived like most everybody else that worked the oil fields in those days. Mom was great, then. She kept the house clean, cooked and baked…I remember she used to hum while she dusted the furniture…” his voice trailed off, his eyes staring at nothing, and the others knew he was seeing the enactment of his words.
“What’s her name, Steve?” Gene asked gently.
“Um…” he blinked, as if to rein in his thoughts. “Her name is Charise…Charise Wheeler.”
Then, he seemed to realize they were staring at him with sympathy, and he tossed the piece of grass away and lifted one uniformed shoulder in careless dismissal. “Ahh well, that’s all water under the bridge. Once Jack died, when I was around eight, Mom kinda went screwy for a while. Up to the day of the accident, she was swell, but then after, it was like somebody else took over her body.” He stopped, as if he were gathering his thoughts and memories. “Not long after the funeral, a man knocked on the door and I answered it. It was the landlord – a tall, thin man with a top hat and a handlebar mustache, and he wanted the rent.” He let out a soft snort. “It was like something out of a silent movie – you know, the evil villain and the damsel in distress. Well, Mom…she’d been just sitting in a chair, not talking, just staring…but when the man came, something snapped in her head, I guess, and she started screaming at him, ‘How can I make money for the rent? My husband’s dead!’ He told her that wasn’t his problem; he still needed to collect the rent.”