by Linda Ellen
Willis chuckled and gently tapped her nose with the tip of one finger. “That’s my girl,” he murmured as the rest of his family came to greet him. One by one, he hugged them all, and they meandered over to a group of chairs for their daily visit.
“It feels so good to be together,” Lilly sighed as she sat near her beloved husband and tucked her hand within the crook of his elbow. He nodded, smiling at her lovingly, as he patted her hand.
Striving to push away thoughts of the fact that he would be leaving again in a scant few hours, Lilly turned her head and smiled as she gazed into the faces of her children. Her lovely daughters, who were sitting close to their father and grinning at him happily, and her precocious son, who had already begun to entertain them with his antics. But her smile faded a bit as her own words made her realize they weren’t ‘all’ together…her precious Sonny was still out there…somewhere…she could only hope that he had enough to eat and a place to take shelter. She wished, and not for the first time, that she had the faith of the church ladies who came with the food. They always prayed and seemed so sure and confident in God’s care and provision.
Lilly sighed quietly as she thought about her life. Decisions she had felt she had no other choice but to make…decisions that went against the teachings of the church. She had been raised Catholic, and thereafter had felt she couldn’t come to God with needs or problems. Therefore, worrying and fretting were all she could do when a crisis arrived…
Louise sat back on her heels, giggling at a joke Billy had just told, and glanced at her mother. Immediately noticing the downcast expression slightly marring Lilly’s smooth complexion, the girl figured that her mother was thinking of Sonny. She was worried too…but not as much as Lilly. Somehow…Louise knew that once the crisis was over and they could all return home, they would enjoy hearing about all of her daring brother’s escapades.
For now, she would just enjoy small favors and snippets of joy when they came. As the others laughed at yet another funny story, Louise turned her attention back to the ‘joy’ at hand.
‡
CHAPTER 10
The Surprise
In the midst of the noise and chaos of cleaning up after lunch, a knock was heard on the door of the club’s kitchen. One of the ladies scurried over and opened it, allowing a deliveryman to come in with boxes of rations for the refugees.
Billy and several of the other young boys came running, excited to see ‘Mr. Dobbins’ on his third visit to the club.
‘Hi, Mr. Dobbins!” the young boy called as he rounded the corner, just missing one of the mothers as she crossed the room to put away some of the breakfast dishes.
“Hey there, sport!” the kind older, gray haired gentleman responded with a grin, raising his burden up over the heads of the youngsters as he made his way through to the pantry. As usual, the kitchen was bustling with ladies, old and young, toiling like worker bees on their chores. With the kids buzzing around, it was nearly chaotic.
“What’dya bring us today, Mr. Dobbins?” a little girl named Sally asked bashfully, clutching a baby doll under one arm.
“Aww, we got some turnips, and some black eyed peas, and some lima beans…” the man responded, chuckling as the girl turned up her nose with a grimace. “But…I think I might have somethin’ that’ll put a smile back on your face,” he added, producing a handful of hard candies from the pocket of his jacket. The kids all squealed in excitement and clustered around him as he chuckled and distributed one to each child, ending with the cute little girl. Thinking once again that she reminded him of his daughter at that age, his faded blue eyes shimmered as he bent down to her level. He gave her an exaggerated wink when he slipped her a second piece. She giggled and leaned to give his cheek a peck.
Then another man crossed the threshold, the load of heavy boxes in his arms stacked higher than his head.
“Put ‘em right in there, son,” the man gestured with his head to the younger man with him, his relief driver.
The other man came through the pantry door and placed his load on a shelf. Looking around, he spotted young Billy Hoskins, and his heart kicked into high gear.
“Hey! I know you…” Billy squawked, stepping up to the man who looked very familiar.
The man grinned and reached out a hand to ruffle the boy’s brown hair, his eyes scanning the kitchen eagerly. Just then, a girl in a light blue sweater covering a green and tan dress, standing at the sink washing dishes, turned her head. Her hazel eyes opened wide in shock as she dropped the plate she was holding into the water with a splash. Oh my gosh…it’s…it’s…HIM!
Vic couldn’t believe his eyes – or his luck. It’s her…so this is where the family’s been all this time…
“Louise, watch what you’re doing, honey,” Lilly fussed, wiping suds from the front of her dress with the towel she had been using to dry the dishes.
“Sorry, Mama,” Louise mumbled, unable to tear her eyes from the most unexpected sight she’d had in some time. Vic Matthews – standing right there in the club’s kitchen – staring back at her!
Riveted to the spot, Vic’s lips parted in surprise and his dark, hooded eyes drank in the sight of her. She seemed even more beautiful than he remembered, and for a moment everything else faded from view as their eyes remained locked. He vaguely noticed her mouth move as she answered her mother.
“Hey, mister,” Billy interjected, tugging on Vic’s sleeve to regain his attention. “I did just what you tol’ me, and that shot didn’t hurt like I thought…but it did the next day,” he added with a shrug. “But them nurses came here one day and wanted to give us all more shots, so me and my sister ran out on the golf course and hid!”
“That right?” Vic mumbled, clearing his throat as he continued to stare across the crowded space at Louise, who was reaching for a towel to wipe the soap from her hands.
Mrs. Haddaway reached for two plates with a friendly grin. “Can we get you fellas somethin’ to eat?”
“You bet,” the older man replied, nudging Vic’s arm. “The club’s our last delivery. The ladies always feel sorry for me and feed me,” he chuckled, motioning for Vic to take a seat at the kitchen’s prep table.
Vic doffed his cap and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket, thoroughly pleased with this development.
“We’ve not seen you before, young man,” Mrs. Haddaway commented as she set the plates in front of the men.
Jeb Dobbins spoke up as he removed his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. “Young Caleb fell off the dock this mornin’ at the warehouse and broke his arm,” he explained regarding his normal co-driver, to a chorus of “Oh dear!” and “My Lands!” from the ladies. “So this young man was kinda in the right place at the right time, and he agreed ta help.”
“Name’s Vic Matthews,” Vic added with a smile, glancing up as several women hovered around, placing items of lunch leftovers on the men’s plates.
“Pleased to meet you,” Suzy Flynn nodded to him, echoed by the others in the kitchen.
He nodded back, noticing the interested look in her gaze, but then his eyes flashed back to the girl at the sink. Louise hadn’t taken her eyes off him, and she sent him a shy smile and a tiny nod.
As the men began to eat, Louise drifted over to the table to hover behind a chair that had been quickly occupied by one of the women.
“Wow, you got real butter!” Billy suddenly exclaimed. The little boy’s eyes were round with amazement as he noticed the men smoothing pads of what looked like rich creamery butter on their rolls. “All we get is that margarine stuff,” he added with disdain.
“That right?” Mr. Dobbins commented, glancing around the kitchen and wondering why.
“…And prunes,” Billy added with disgust.
“Yeah, prunes at every meal!” another child chimed in, causing everyone in the kitchen to nod in agreement. “Prunes, prunes, prunes!”
Louise snickered at Vic’s grimace, vowing, “If we ever get back home, I swear I’ll never eat a
nother prune the rest of my days!” The others laughed in unison.
Vic chuckled too, in full agreement. He couldn’t stand that particular fruit.
Catching Louise’s eye, Vic offered, “Hey…got somethin’ to tell ya… a couple ‘a days ago I went by your place, checkin’ on it, and the people that live upstairs said your brother, Sonny, came by a day or two after you folks left.”
Louise opened her mouth in pleased surprise, squealing, “Really?”
Lilly, listening at the sink nearly dropped the glass she was drying, spinning with a gasp to view the young man at the table. Taking a closer look at him, she realized it was the same young man who had rescued their family the night they evacuated. She hurried over to him and put her hand on his arm, which caused him to stop chewing and look up into her eyes.
“My Sonny? He’s alright?” she murmured, almost afraid to believe it. “But…where is he? Is he at home? Is he with the Andersons?” She pressed a hand to her chest, her heart pounding.
Vic swallowed the bite of food he had taken and nodded. “I believe he’s alright, Ma’am.”
“You believe? B…but…” Lilly sputtered, not understanding.
“Well…they said he came by there in a boat with some other people and asked where the family went,” Vic hastened to explain, hating that he couldn’t give her more definite information. “When the Anderson’s couldn’t tell ‘im, they said he went on back toward downtown in the boat with the others.” As Lilly’s face crumpled with disappointment, Vic added, “But he’s with friends, it seems, Ma’am…I’m sure he’s alright.”
“Pfft, yeah,” Billy mumbled. “Who knows what he’s been up to. Most likely startin’ trouble.”
“Billy, that’s no way to talk about your elder brother,” Louise admonished. Moving to put an arm around her mother’s shoulders, Louise soothed, “Sonny’s okay, Mama. I just know it. Maybe they took him to the armory and he got sent to someplace nice, like we did,” she added encouragingly.
Lilly gathered her composure and raised the edge of her apron to her lips as she nodded. The unexpected information had taken the wind out of her sails. Taking a deep breath, she patted Louise’s arm, managing a small smile when Louise pressed a kiss to her cheek. Glancing at Vic, she sent him a tiny trembling smile as she turned back to continue her work at the sink.
Vic watched her go, feeling like a heel. He had meant to share what he thought would be encouraging information for the family; that Sonny was, at least, all right. Yet it seemed Mrs. Hoskins had not received it in that manner. Louise turned back, and seeing the look on his face, hastened to assure him, “Thanks for checkin’ for us…at least we know something now.”
Their eyes met and his slowly softened in relief. He sent her a silent nod.
“So…what are you doing here?” she asked, hastening to add, “I mean, I thought you were on a boat…I read something in the paper…” She blushed a little when his eyes sparkled happily at the knowledge that she had not only seen the article, but also remembered it. He had hoped that wherever she was staying, she would see it.
Vic resumed eating, explaining between bites, “I was. But once the water started goin’ down and they got that pontoon bridge built, the boats were needed less and less. And since I drove a truck before, and I was over at the warehouse with Doc, it seemed like a good idea to go along with Jeb and help him out.” He’d kept to himself that a big incentive for him to help was the possibility that he would find out where she had been taken. The whereabouts of the lovely Louise had been a mystery that had been bugging him for nearly ten days.
“You were on a boat?” one of the children asked excitedly. “Did you rescue anybody?” gushed a boy with two missing front teeth and a shock of red hair. Suddenly, everyone seemed to have questions for him…Had he been to a certain street…had he seen so and so, some family member or friend…had he had any close calls? They fired questions at him like cannonballs. Vic sat back with a grin and thought for a moment, enjoying the attention.
Just then, Edna wandered in the door, her curiosity aroused by the raised, excited voices in the kitchen. Grabbing an apple from a bowl on the counter, she drew up behind Louise to see what the commotion was all about.
Vic noticed the newcomer and nodded her way as he began to regale his audience with ‘flood’ stories. The children and ladies hovered in rapt attention as Vic intoned, “You wouldn’t of believed it if you’d seen it yourself, the broad thoroughfares of downtown – they seemed like they were part of the river itself, with dozens of rowboats cruisin’ the waters.”
“Just like Venice, that place in Italy! Right, Mr. Vic?” Billy supplied, having heard that description from the adults many times. He grinned as Vic nodded and winked. “You’re right about that, son. It looked just like what I’ve seen in those newsreels.”
Continuing, Vic recalled catching a glimpse of an entire house floating down the Ohio, and of animals standing on small rafts or on the tops of stables. These were the first stories the displaced group had heard from actual witnesses, and they were utterly amazed.
Vic related about the funny billboard, which had them all chuckling, especially the kids. They immediately began to act out their vision of the spectacle, complete with ‘glub glub’ sound effects. Laughing with the others, Vic continued that memory, recounting how it felt to be in the boat when the electricity went off; and the awe inspiring moment when, after prayer and song, WHAS came back online, as if in direct answer to that prayer. Louise and several others felt shivers upon hearing that and glanced at one another, wide-eyed. One lady made the sign of the cross and shook her head in wonder.
When Vic paused again to take a few bites of food, Jeb offered his experiences of watching over 200,000 pounds of rations being offloaded from big airplanes on soggy runways, and army trucks lined up and ready to be loaded for delivery. “And the Red Cross, they had to really scramble to find places for everybody. You ladies here were lucky. Why, some of your fellow refugees have been stayin’ in tent cities, if they weren’t lucky enough to be taken in by a family with room to spare…” he mentioned gently. The ladies all nodded in agreement. Each one knew that, in spite of the boredom of staying at the club, they were, in fact, fortunate.
“The Red Cross turned some barber shops and storefronts into emergency health centers to dispense typhoid shots and basic first aid,” he added, recalling when he had stopped by a barbershop-turned-clinic to see to a cut on his hand.
Vic picked up the discourse again, divulging how his boat had been chosen to escort Phil Harnden, the Universal Movietone Newsreel reporter. “The man was a wonder. You shoulda seen him, holdin’ the camera and balancin’ like a circus performer ridin’ bareback on a trick horse – in a rubber raft towed on a rope behind our boat, no less,” he crooned, giving a shake of his head and shoving another bite of food in his mouth.
“Are you gonna be in a newsreel, Mr. Vic?” Billy gushed, his blue eyes oozing with hero worship.
Vic flashed him a smile and reached to ruffle his hair. “I mighta got in a few shots.”
“Wow…” the little boy whispered, feeling as if he were in the presence of a movie star.
Chuckling, Vic spent the next few minutes apprising his listeners of where he and his crew had taken the photographer. How the man had snapped a picture of the statue of Lincoln ‘standing on the water’, and how Mr. Harnden had wished he could have been there to witness it as Vic and the crew had seen it – a praying Lincoln. “We took him down into the worst hit areas, like The Point, and floated by the Heigold House,” he continued, shaking his head sadly.
The ladies ‘awed’ in empathy, as everyone considered the Heigold House one of most elegant mansions in town. It had frequently been the scene of swanky parties reported in the society section of the paper. “I just hope they can fix all the damage done to it by that ol’ river.”
He went on, describing how he’d watched as one man in a rowboat, paying too much attention to what the photographer was
doing, had come too close to a traffic light hanging just above the waterline. It had actually knocked him into the current. “You never saw anybody scramble back inside a boat faster in your life!” he joked with a teasing glint in his eye, as his audience chuckled.
Then he paused for a moment, thinking of someone else who had fallen into the water, but the results had been less fortunate. As if hearing his thoughts, seven-year-old Hubert Geldhaus, spoke up, “The boat that took us from our house, it turned over and everything fell in the water.”
His mother, standing to one side of the group, added disdainfully, “Due to the sheer incompetence of the men. Clumsy fools.”
Vic turned his head and stared at her, his eyes taking on the hue of charred wood. “I only know of one rescue boat that capsized ma’am…the reason I heard was that the family insisted on takin’ way more of their possessions than was allowed,” he murmured quietly, controlling his tone.
The woman had the grace to appear uncomfortable at his words, muttering, “It was a ridiculous limitation – one bag per person? Why…I would have been forced to leave behind my furs…my jewelry…simply unacceptable—and now all but one are ruined…” she paused at the look on his face.
Vic took a deep breath, a muscle in his jaw flexed as he clamped his teeth and lips together. In a quiet voice, he returned slowly, his words measured. “One ‘a those ‘fools’ was a friend ‘a mine, ma’am. His name was John Shore. He was 54, married, with four kids.” Recognizing at least a spark of reaction in her eyes, he drove home the point. “His wife hadn’t wanted him to help, but he’d insisted, sayin’ he couldn’t sit by in a warm, dry house and do nothin’ when there was people out there who needed rescuin’. Heck, he lived up in the Highlands, blocks away from the water.” Then leveling his mahogany gaze at her he added, “He got pneumonia from bein’ out in the weather too long after he fell in tryin’ ta save your fur coats… he died two days later.”