by Linda Ellen
“Sorry I dragged you away from the dancin’…”
She flashed a sweet smile at him. “Oh, that’s okay. I was needing a break anyway…”
Each one wondered if they should say something about the altercation, but neither knew exactly how to start. Uncomfortably, they looked away from one another, turning their gazes to the houses far away on the Indiana shore, barely visible in the waning light. They passed quite a few other passengers, mostly couples strolling together.
When they reached the stern, Vic drew Louise up to the rail next to several other couples, each one gazing downward at the mesmerizing sight of the wooden paddlewheel turning swiftly through the water. The resulting micro-fine mist the great wheel generated added to the passenger’s refreshment. Its large red blades produced a distinctive thumping and swishing sound, almost like a heartbeat, as they sliced determinedly through the choppy surface of the water, effectively moving the boat along at a good clip. After a while, the others drifted away two by two until Vic and Louise were left alone, arms touching as they stood together at the rail. The rhythmic rotations of the old stern wheel had worked its magic, and served to soothe Vic’s aggravation.
After a few minutes, he turned and leaned back against the rail, gazing down the length of the deck as memories played through his mind.
“I ever tell ya I worked on this boat one season?”
Louise grinned, hoping he would tell her more. In all of the dates they had shared, Vic had never talked much about himself. She wanted to ply him with questions, but somehow she always held back, instinctively knowing he was a very private person.
Now, she leaned against his arm, and murmured, “Really, Vic? When was that?”
He smiled fondly. “The summer I was sixteen.” Thinking back over those carefree days, he breathed in the damp river air again and sighed. “I used to come down to the river and fish, or just sit and watch the boats and barges go by,” he explained softly, images of sitting by the river with his father coming to mind. “Sometimes I’d watch ships go through the locks. There was an old man…Clyde Bremmer…he was the Idlewild’s Chief Engineer. He was a great ol’ guy…knew this old tub inside and out.” A grin spread across Vic’s face as he recalled the man. “He took a likin’ to me, and talked the captain inta takin’ me on for the summer as a deckhand, even tho’ I was only sixteen and you were supposed to be eighteen to work on it.” He paused as images from those days rolled through his mind. Louise just watched his profile, not wishing to intrude on his thoughts.
“Ol’ Clyde, he was a good ol’ bird. He taught me a lot…”
“Yeah? Like what?” she challenged playfully.
Rising to the test, he pursed his lips for a minute. “Like about what makes it go. Now this is a Mississippi style, stern wheel steamer, versus a side-wheeler. See that paddle wheel?” he queried, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s driven by two steam-powered, single-cylinder, double-action, reciprocating engines that are older than the boat itself, like from around 1870 or something. That paddle wheel is nineteen feet in diameter by twenty-four feet wide. It’s got an eight inch steel hexagon shaft with six steel hubs. The hubs support ninety-six white oak radial arms and thirty-two 24-foot oak bucket planks, arranged in sixteen sets of two. They can push this old tub as fast as eighteen knots…” he paused, expecting a look of confusion to cross her countenance. He wasn’t disappointed. “Which is about 20 miles an hour. That’s pretty fast for a craft as big and heavy as it is. Takes a while to bring it to a stop from that speed. They don’t usually run it that fast, though…unless they’re racin’ or somethin’.”
Louise’s eyes twinkled as she watched him, truly impressed with his knowledge.
“Did you only work on it that one summer?”
“Yeah…I came down here first thing the next season…and they told me Clyde…he’d died,” he paused again, remembering the pain that news had caused. “Heart attack. They had a new skipper…” he shrugged, indicating they wouldn’t bend the rules for him a second time. “Wouldn’a been the same without Clyde anyways.”
Louise nodded as they both lapsed into silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peace of motoring down the dark river, in spite of the sound of the music playing on the deck below. Up there, on the back edge of the large riverboat, it seemed like they were in their own little world.
Turning to look again at Vic’s profile, Louise stated softly, “I don’t really know much about you, Vic…I know you’re living with Alec and his family and that you moved out of your brother’s apartment, but…” she paused, hoping he would just decide to open up to her.
He exhaled slowly. Talking about his life and childhood always depressed him. But he knew Louise had to be curious. That was natural.
“My parents are both dead…”
Louise gasped softly. “I’m sorry, Vic. What happened to them?”
“My mom died when I was about two. Don’t really remember her… I had two more brothers, too…but they both died as babies. My old man…he died when I was twelve.”
“Oh Vic,” she whispered, her heart breaking. “How did he die?”
“Heart attack, I think,” he shrugged.
She could sense that it still hurt him to talk about it and she touched his arm gently. “Is that when you got your lighter?” she asked softly.
Vic gave a tiny imitation of a smile. “Yeah.” Reaching in his pants’ pocket, he drew out the treasured memento, and gazed at the engraved inscription. “When he died, he didn’t have much left…had to sell most everything to pay off…some debts.” He stared at the object as memories floated through. “He liked to smoke them Cuban cigars and he used to let me hold the lighter for ‘im…so my brothers let me keep it.” Closing his hand around the cool, smooth metal, he suddenly vowed, “I’ll never part with it, even if it meant livin’ on the street. Pop had his faults…but he was a good dad to us.”
“I’m sure he was,” she whispered, tenderly caressing his arm. “What happened to you after he died? And your brothers?”
He pressed his lips together for a moment. “Jack was already married and livin’ here. Al was sixteen. We got shipped around for a while, stayed with aunts, cousins, a friend of Pop’s. Then when Al got married, I went to live with him and his wife…” he paused, remembering the not so warm welcome that rainy night he’d gone to stay with them. “They live up in Indiana. That’s where we were livin’ when Pop…” he paused, not wanting to tell her all of the details, especially about the gambling. “So anyway, I lived with them for about a year, then I came here to live with Jack, my oldest brother. Then when I turned eighteen, I did a hitch in the CCC’s.”
“What was it like?” she asked, knowing that was the abbreviation for the Civilian Conservation Corps. “Sonny’s been talkin’ about signin’ up, but Mama doesn’t want to let him go. She’s afraid he’ll get hurt, I guess.”
He nodded. “It can be a little rough. The CC camps are loggin’ camps, mostly. But they’re run safe. Plenty ‘a good food, bed and board, plus you get paid for it,” he smirked, thinking about how excited he had been to be saving up a nice nest egg at the time, sending it home to Jack and Liz…only to come home when his stint was up and find out they had spent his money. It was still a bitter pill to swallow. He shook his head, striving to turn from the old feelings of anger and betrayal.
Pivoting around to stare out at the river behind the smoothly moving vessel, he murmured softly, almost to himself, “Seems like something’s got it in for me. Something always steps in and messes up a good thing.” Then hesitantly, he admitted, “I…I never really felt wanted my whole life.”
Hearing her give a tiny gasp of sympathy, he turned and took her hands as he stared down into her eyes. There were so many things he wanted to say, but his customary shyness kicked in and he was suddenly tongue-tied and a bit afraid. It bothered him that he wasn’t sure if she felt the same way toward him that he had felt about her from practically the moment they met. One thing that hel
d him back was the fact that she seemed determined to keep her life separate from him, and that realization smarted deeply. He couldn’t understand why…
Louise gazed up into his eyes, wanting so badly to tell him she wanted him. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but that just wasn’t something a girl could say to a man. Her heart ached for the hurt she saw reflected in those haunting eyes. She’d had no idea he’d had such a hard life up to that point – and life hadn’t exactly treated him kind since she had known him. This newfound knowledge stirred the maternal instincts within her heart and she wanted nothing more than to be the one to make him smile…but she remained mute.
From down below, strains of another ballad drifted up, and looking around, Vic’s mouth curled in a smirk as he took her in his arms.
“Lots ‘a room up here,” he murmured against her hair as they began moving slowly to the music. It felt so right to be there, together, in one another’s arms.
They both wished the evening would never end.
‡
CHAPTER 19
Contests at the Knights of Columbus
“Man what is it?” Vic mumbled to himself as he walked out of another unsuccessful job interview. He looked skyward for a moment, anger welling up inside. “You got it in for me, or what?” he fumed, frustration at his on-going joblessness knotting his stomach. The fact that his two best friends were gainfully employed only made matters worse, and made him feel…obsolete.
The woeful details of his life relentlessly tormented him as he walked along, hands shoved into the pockets of his best pair of trousers. His self-esteem was taking a constant beating, with no job and no money to make plans for his future. And to top it off, the past few days he had been playing a dodging game with one of Alec’s sisters, Rose. He grimaced as he remembered her coming into the living room in the middle of the night and proceeding to kiss him awake, as he lay asleep on the couch. When he had tried to tell her, gently, that he wasn’t interested, she proceeded to throw herself at him with the full intention of not taking ‘no’ for an answer. The only thing that saved him was Mrs. Alder getting up to go to the restroom.
Vic had managed to persuade Rose to go back to her bed and leave him alone, however since that night it had become increasingly uncomfortable for him to be in the apartment alone with Alec’s sister.
“What a mess,” he murmured disgustedly. The frustration roiling within him burned hotter and hotter, like a steam boiler moments away from blowing its stack.
As he continued down the street, he glanced up to see a man coming toward him he hadn’t seen in months – Doc Latham from the B-13 flood rescue station. A tiny smile graced Vic’s lips as the other man’s face lit up in recognition.
“Vic Matthews! How’ve you been, son?” Doc greeted with a large smile and a rousing handshake.
“Aw, fair to middlin’ Doc,” he answered with a shrug. “How’s everything with you?”
“Can’t complain, can’t complain,” the other man quipped, his gregarious smile dimming a little when he noticed the downcast posture and pinched expression of his young friend. He guessed, correctly, that things had not improved for the young man in the area of steady employment. His heart softening, Doc stepped closer and placed an arm around Vic’s shoulders. “Where’ve you been keeping yourself, son?” he asked gently.
“Here and there,” Vic shrugged again, glancing around before meeting his friend’s gaze. Though Vic couldn’t form the words, his eyes spoke volumes. In many ways, he was about at the end of his rope.
The older man nodded knowingly. “You had a meal today?”
“It ain’t like that, really,” Vic hastened to assure his concerned friend. “I’m gettin’ three squares, stayin’ with a friend’s family. It’s just…” he paused with a soft huff of dissatisfaction. “I can’t seem to luck into steady work and it’s startin’ to really get to me.”
The man pursed his lips and nodded, racking his brain for anything or any opening he might have heard about, but nothing came to mind. Then thinking back over a conversation he had had with Irene, their mutual friend, he asked softly, “How ‘bout the girl…?”
At the mention of Louise, Vic’s face transformed. His eyes aglow, he nodded. “She’s the only bright spot in my life,” he admitted softly.
Doc nodded sagely. “You know what they say – if you have one bright spot, then your life isn’t all bad.”
Vic looked down at his shoes as irritation heated up again. “Sometimes I think…maybe the Man upstairs has it in for me or something.”
Gazing at the young man, so down on his luck, the wise minister chose his words carefully. Though he didn’t know Vic’s whole history, he knew enough that he could connect the dots. “Are you on speaking terms with Him, son?” he asked softly.
With a wry attempt at a one-sided smile, Vic shrugged and admitted, “Not really. Don’t really know all them ‘thees’ and ‘thous’ like you preachers use…”
Doc laughed good-naturedly. “Aw son, you don’t have to talk to Him in ‘thees and thous’. Just talk to ‘im like you’re talking to me. You know…He’s a gentleman, and He likes to be asked for help. Over the years I’ve seen so many people that expect Him to be active in their lives, expect miracles even, but they never actually come right out and ask Him. He never forces His way into our lives…He waits for an invitation.”
Vic thought for a moment and realized Doc was right – he hadn’t ever really asked anything of God, half expecting that He was just a big, angry something somewhere in the sky that merely searched for ways to hit people over the head and make their lives miserable. Or being set to yank the rug out from under you just when you thought things were on the rise.
Doc watched him, almost able to ‘see’ the wheels spinning in his mind. Turning toward the direction he had been headed – his church – he offered, “If you’re not doing anything right now…there’s a lady we both know cooking up a big feast for tonight. I know she’d love to see you. Wanna drop in for a visit?”
With a chuckle as he thought of sweet Miss Irene, Vic nodded and allowed the older man to bustle him along the sidewalk as he made small talk.
A few minutes later, they reached the First Lutheran Church. Its large, twin-steeple, Gothic-style limestone edifice was a bit intimidating, and Vic almost balked at approaching its stained-glass double front doors. Instead of guiding him in that direction, however, Doc ushered Vic around the back and through a service door into the building’s large kitchen.
Several ladies, busy as bees and chatting happily, were overseeing the fixings for that night’s community meal. They turned as one when the door opened.
“Ladies, look who I ran into just now,” Doc chuckled, prompting Irene to grin from ear to ear. Drying her hands quickly on a towel, she hurried toward their visitor.
“Vic, my lands, it’s so good to see you!” she gushed, taking him into her arms for a warm hug. The other ladies also remembered him from the B-13 crew and came forward to bid him welcome.
Vic returned Irene’s embrace, mumbling, “Thanks Miss Irene. Good to see you, too.” He nodded to the others with a careful smile, a bit bashful to suddenly be the center of attention. Not for the first time, he was swept with the wish that Irene had been his mother. How different his life would have been…
Steering Vic and Doc toward stools at the large work counter, the ladies bustled around, each one asking Vic how things were going and setting before the two men samples of the items they were working on for that night’s dinner – for the men to ‘give their opinions’. As he enjoyed bites of sauerkraut and bratwurst, various vegetables, and the filling for lemon meringue and chocolate cream pies, Vic felt himself relax and even begin to take pleasure in the loving care the ladies heaped upon him. His situation began to seem not so dismal.
At the mention of Vic needing to find employment, Irene turned to one of the ladies with an excited gasp. “Betty, we were just discussing needing help and here it walks in the door,” she
chuckled, proceeding to explain to Vic that she and her friend had decided to move in together to share expenses, and needed a strong young man to help with the task. They spent the next few minutes discussing the particulars and arranging a day and time and how much they would pay him.
An hour later, his spirits buoyed and his stomach full, Vic bid goodbye to his friends and left, his steps much lighter than they had been.
When Vic walked into the apartment, having stayed out until he was sure Rose wouldn’t be the only one there, he saw Alec walking out of the bathroom running a towel through his hair from a quick bath. His job at the factory always left him covered in sawdust.
“Is that you, Vic?” Mrs. Alder called from the kitchen. “Supper’s almost ready.”
“Hey Pally, any luck?” Alec asked genially.
Vic met his friend’s eyes for a moment and compressed his lips in a grimace, with a quick negative shake of his head. “’Cept a one day job helpin’ a lady move her stuff.” Trying not to let his earlier dejection overtake him again, he flopped down and sprawled onto the couch. “I gotta get somethin’ soon. Somehow this drought’s gotta break,” he mumbled. With a tired sigh, he let his head fall back, eyes closed. “Louise wants to go to that big dance at the K.C. this weekend,” he mumbled, referring to the Knights of Columbus hall on the corner of Third and Guthrie. “But…” he paused, his pride bruised that even the money for tickets to a dance was hard for him to come by.
Alec laughed, thinking of how excited Fleet had been on their last date, gushing about how keen that dance would be. “Yep, Fleet’s been talkin’ about nothin’ else for weeks. Last big fling of the summer.” Leaning over to give Vic a friendly punch to the shoulder, he added, “Don’t worry about it. I got you guys covered. My treat.”
Vic opened his mouth to argue, feeling a distinct pinch to his self-respect that his buddy had bailed him out so often, but Mrs. Alder’s voice calling them both in to dinner interrupted.