by Linda Ellen
It was all so confusing for Louise. She didn’t know what to make of these perplexing developments – and she had no one to talk things over with…she wasn’t allowed to see Fleet…Edna had returned to her usual sullen self…Sonny merely shrugged if she asked his opinion…and her father was still out of town.
She felt completely alone…and most of all…she missed Vic.
‡
CHAPTER 22
Evansville and the C’s
Vic leaned with one foot braced against a tree, his hands in his pockets, staring out at the river and pondering how different it looked there than it did back home.
Home… He realized with a smirk that he didn’t really have a home. Hadn’t in a good many years – only places where he hung his hat for a while. The ‘home’ he had just vacated had become increasingly uncomfortable. Alec’s old-maid sister Rose was determined they should be a couple, and had come on to him relentlessly, trying every means at her disposal to entice or trap him.
Rose had really stepped up the pace after the debacle with Louise. That night she had snuck into the living room again, practically pouncing on an unsuspecting Vic as he lay asleep. His mind in turmoil, he had been in the middle of a confusing dream about Louise, where one minute they were arguing and the next they were sitting on the running board of Earl’s car, kissing passionately. Unfortunately, Rose had chosen that moment to begin her ‘seduction’. She’d been pleased, at first, when Vic began to quite ardently kiss her in return, but it ended quickly as he awoke to realize the lips he was kissing did not belong to the girl he loved.
“R…Rose, knock it off!” he had groused as he shot up straight and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Vic, please! I love you,” Rose had whined as she plopped down on the couch next to him. Purposefully, she had allowed her robe to fall open, revealing the low cut negligee she had donned for her ‘mission’, thereby giving Vic quite a view of her more than ample attributes.
Boldly, she had reached out and grasped Vic’s head in her hands, striving to pull him toward her for another kiss. Vic turned his face; repulsed not only by her forcefulness, but also by the fact that dental hygiene was not, to say the least, her strong suit.
Vic took hold of her hands and firmly pressed them into her lap as he said, as gently as he could, “Rose…I told ya…I don’t feel that way about you. We’re just friends…okay?”
Rose shook her head, tears welling in her large round blue eyes. “No, Vic…I’m crazy about you. I always have been. I’d do anything for you. Anything at all!” she declared, giving him such a piercing look she left no doubt as to her meaning.
Vic had closed his eyes and sighed, trying his best not to hurt her feelings. “Rose, I’m sorry…I ain’t ever gonna feel that way about you. Try to understand…I love Louise…”
“But…” she began. However, before she could argue any further, Vic climbed to his feet and pulled her up with him. Deliberately, he closed her robe and tied the belt shut for good measure. “Now, you go on back to your room and we’ll forget this ever happened… okay?”
With a sad sigh, she had nodded and turned to shuffle back the way she had come. However, Vic had known that night that she would try again at the first opportunity, and that he would absolutely have to find other digs in which to hang his hat.
Just then he was ‘hanging his hat’ one hundred miles to the west of Louisville – in Evansville, Indiana at the home of his brother, Al, and his wife Goldie. The couple lived in a third-floor apartment six blocks from the river, and he was staying there while he waited for official orders.
Shaking his head as he watched a boat go by, he mused that lately it seemed all he did was wait and cool his heels. Just then, he was waiting for the letter telling him to report to the CC camp run by that friend of Doc’s.
Every day he waited for the mailman to bring the mail, rifling quickly through the bills and correspondence belonging to Al and his wife, but so far, nothing had come for him. This concerned him on several levels. One, he was anxious to start his second hitch in the C’s, so that he could begin building his nest egg for his future. Two…he wondered why she hadn’t written to him.
I don’t blame her for bein’ mad, and even hurt, at me. I accused her of some pretty rotten things…but I thought what I did would have made up for it…
Tilting his head back with a sigh and watching a slow moving cloud, he thought back to those harried days after what he had come to think of as the unveiling.
He had intentionally stayed away from Louise’s home after the chilly reception he had received from her family that terrible evening…and the slap Louise herself had administered in response to his verbal attack. Not wishing to be in the Alder’s apartment any more than was necessary, he had spent his time roaming the streets, or sitting on the bank of the river, fishing. He’d even managed to catch a few catfish and brought them home for Mrs. Alder to cook. Figuring it was no use looking for a job, as was his normal daily routine, he merely passed the time waiting for Doc to give him instructions. Finally, the day arrived when he received a message that Doc wanted to see him.
Doc explained that his friend, Major Frank Connors, ran a large CCC camp at Beaver Ridge, Illinois, and that he could pull some strings to get Vic assigned to his unit. As Vic had confided in the reverend regarding the situation at the Alder’s residence, as well as the stalemate concerning his girl, Miss Irene and Doc had searched for a solution to help their down-on-his luck young friend.
“Vic, is there any place you could go to for a few weeks, until Major Connors sends you the paperwork?” Irene asked caringly.
Vic thought for a moment, and then looked his friend in the eye. “Well, I haven’t seen my brother Al and his wife for years…they might let me stay a few weeks with them, only…they live in Evansville, Indiana.”
The kind woman and the no-nonsense pastor exchanged glances, realizing what Vic was hinting at.
“Son, if you can get hold of them by telephone and they say it’s all right…I think provision could be made for a bus ticket,” Doc assured with a grin and a wink.
So, using the church’s phone several minutes later, Vic had, indeed, made contact with his brother, who generously offered to send him the $3.75 for bus fare.
With his future seeming brighter than it had in weeks, Vic had made the rounds with his friends and even Jack and Liz, to say his goodbyes. It had been a somewhat uncomfortable time at Jack’s apartment, although the kids were glad to see him, and Jack was warm – and Liz was polite. She did say that she wished him luck and was glad that he had found something he could do. The subject of the CC camps being a sore one for them all, the estranged family had carefully steered around it.
On his last night in town, Vic ate dinner at Doc’s house, which was just down the street from the church. Doc’s gracious wife Florence had fixed a wonderful meal and Vic’s heart was light with hope and excitement for the future. Things were finally falling into place.
After he left, he had gone to Louise’s apartment and walked down the hall to the large oak door. However, as he raised his hand to knock, he stopped.
From inside, he heard Lilly snap, “Louise, my lands! Haven’t you started those dishes yet?”
Louise mumbled something indistinguishable, and Edna grumbled, “If you think I’m gonna do them for you, you’ve got another think coming! If it was up to me…”
“Edna, lay off her, will you?” Sonny’s obviously aggravated voiced added to the mix.
Vic, hovering outside the door, was feeling a mixture of protectiveness toward his girl and awkwardness at hearing the exchange. But after a moment or two of hesitation, he lost his nerve. Backing off, he turned and left the building.
For the longest time, he watched from across the street, leaning against a lamppost where he could see the lights from their windows. Finally, as he realized his unconscious hope of Louise somehow coming outside in response to his nonverbal longings was for naught, Vic had turn
ed and slowly made his way back to spend a sleepless night at the Alder’s apartment.
Even if he had known that Louise was inside, crying herself to sleep – there wasn’t a thing he could have done about it…
The next day, Saturday, Earl drove him to the bus station to catch a Greyhound to Evansville. All the gang, Ruth, Alec and Fleet, went along to see him off. Shaking Earl and Alec’s hands, and giving the girls each a kiss on the cheek, Vic’s heart had ached that the one person above all others he wished would have been there to bid him farewell was absent.
Looking his best friend in the eye, Vic murmured, “Check on her for me…I feel bad that I didn’t get to see her before I left…to tell her I’m not mad…and tell her I’m sorry for the things I said…”
Alec, for once totally serious, mumbled, “But you put all that…”
Vic nodded, “Yeah…I just hope she got it.”
Then, he had picked up his duffle bag with all of his worldly possessions inside and climbed aboard the large blue and white Greyhound bus. Quickly finding a window seat, he had waved at and watched his friends until the conveyance turned a corner out of the terminal and he was on his way – to his future.
Coming out of his daydream, he lowered himself to the ground at the base of the tree and took his wallet out of his pocket.
Reaching inside, he removed two pictures, handling them as if they were worth a mint. One was of Louise, wearing the pink and black print dress he’d seen her in many times, and though the picture was sepia toned, he saw her in living color through the eyes of his emotions… Her lovely complexion of peaches and cream…on her lips a soft rose lipstick as they curved into a gorgeous smile… and those dreamy hazel eyes… She was positioned sideways to the camera and looking over her shoulder, seemingly at him.
Gazing at it, it was as if she were right there with him – but that only made him miss her more. He stared into the likeness of her eyes, trying to ‘connect’ with her, to somehow get her to write to him and let him know how she was doing.
Vic almost didn’t want to look at the other picture – but drawn as if by compulsion, he did. It was a copy of the one Alec had taken that crazy night that the gang had such fun eating sliders at the White Castle. In the photo, he and Louise were clutched in a tight embrace…kissing. He stared at their images, trying to transport himself back in time to that moment when the world seemed exciting and full of promise – and he was with the love of his life.
After long minutes of reminiscing and wishing, Vic sighed sadly and carefully returned the treasured photos to their safe place.
*
Two weeks later, Vic walked through the door of his brother’s apartment, shed his jacket and headed to the sink to wash his hands. He’d been trying to earn a little pocket money by helping a downstairs neighbor move their furniture. Moments later his sister-in-law came in the door, a pile of mail clutched in her hands and a big smile on her face. Tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder, blue eyes twinkling merrily, she grinned at him and purred, “Guess what I’ve got?”
He turned, about to admonish her not to tease him, but the look in her eyes let him know she was serious. Tossing the other mail on the kitchen table, she held out an envelope without a word. He could clearly see a round logo on its corner, with trees, water, mountains, and CCC in big letters – and it was addressed to him.
“Yeehaa!” he guffawed and practically ripped it from her hand as she laughed with him.
Tearing open the envelope, he read the words from his new boss quickly, grinning from ear to ear. Without looking up, he murmured, “I’m to catch the bus on Friday.” Glancing up at her, he held up the enclosure, a Greyhound bus ticket. “The waitin’s finally over,” he grinned.
So bright and early Friday morning, Al and Goldie sent him off with handshakes, hugs, and a brown paper sack packed with a bottle of pop and sandwiches, which Goldie had made. Lugging his duffle, he walked the five blocks in a light misting rain from their apartment at 608 Chevy Street to the bus terminal, and was soon aboard and settled.
The four-hour ride was uneventful. He spent the first part of it staring out the window, through drops of rain, and daydreamed of Louise. At one point, he felt a stab of fear zip through his body, but he wasn’t sure what had brought it on. Especially since, he had reminded himself, he was on his way to the start of their future, and things were looking up. It took awhile for that sensation to pass, however. But pass, it did, and settled into a feeling of numb resignation.
The bus stopped once for a convenience break, and Vic got out to stretch his legs, and partake of his sandwiches and drink.
The nearest town to Camp Beaver Ridge was a tiny hamlet called Dana, where the bus eventually let him off at the small post office. There he sat on the curb and waited twenty minutes until an army transport truck pulled up, its dark green canvas looking as if it had seen better days.
A young man peered down at him. His white teeth gleamed from a face a pleasant hue of café au lait. His round eyes, a rich dark coffee bean color, were fringed with dark lashes and twinkling merrily. His close-cropped hair, of which Vic could only see a small bit under a worn green cap, gave a hint of soft charcoal.
“You Victa’ Matthews?” he asked with the friendly drawl of the Deep South, and Vic wondered if he was from Alabama or Georgia.
“Sure am,” Vic answered, climbing to his feet and dusting off the back of his trousers.
“Well, climb aboard. Dis yuh o’fficial welcome, an’ yuh transport out tuh the camp,” he announced, his full lips curved casually into a jovial smirk that said life is fun and so am I.
The man swung the passenger door open as Vic picked up his belongings and climbed up into the high cab of the old truck.
The driver stuck out his hand. “Name’s Floyd. Floyd Grimes.” Vic took his hand in a firm shake and gave him a nod. “Good to meet ya.”
The man grinned again and grabbed the wobbling gearshift, placing the cantankerous old truck in first gear. Fighting against it bucking and jerking, he maneuvered it around to head back the way he had come.
“So. Dis yuh first time in the C’s?”
Vic grasped the safety strap above the door and watched the road as they lurched along. “Nope. Did a hitch in California a few years back.”
“Cal’fornia, huh? Ain’t neva been. Heard tell it’s mighty pretty though…”
Vic flashed him a grin. “Mighty hot, too, at least where I was. Man, sometimes it’d get up to 110 – in the shade. I was glad to come back East where a body can cool off, know what I mean?”
Floyd’s head tilted back as he let go a rousing guffaw. “Dat I do, man. Dat I do.”
Chuckling, they bumped along in silence for a few minutes. Vic then glanced over at his companion, wondering what his story might be. The man’s pursed lips whistled a soft, cheerful tune as large, strong hands gripped the steering wheel of the truck with confidence. “You been in long?”
Floyd flashed him his contagious smile. “One week. Dis heah’s my first ‘signment on my own. The Maja’ said if I gets you to the camp in one piece, he’ll gimme ‘portant cargo next time,” he joked. Vic knew he was teasing as they both chuckled.
Grasping the wheel just then, Floyd wrangled it to the left as he turned the truck onto what looked like an access road.
“I’ll be sure ‘n tell him you drive like a pro,” Vic offered. “You uh…you do know where we’re goin’, right?”
Floyd threw back his head and laughed. “Dis heah road don’t go no place but dah camp. Don’choo worry none.”
Vic grinned and made a point to settle back in the seat, eyes closed, as he quipped, “In that case, wake me when we’re there.”
“Man, with the potholes in dis heah road, I don’ think you gonna get much shut eye!” Floyd chortled just as the right front wheel hit a chuckhole that jarred the entire cab.
“Not if you keep hittin’ chuckholes that could swallow an elephant!” Vic teasingly groused.
Both yo
ung men laughed together in instant camaraderie. Somehow they both knew it was the beginning of what would turn out to be a strong friendship that would last a lifetime…
*
Thirty minutes later, the camp came into view. It was a large encampment, with eleven buildings, including four barracks, a mess hall, recreation hall, infirmary, officers’ quarters, garage, latrine, and shower building.
Floyd slowed the old truck to a shuddering halt and Vic climbed down, shouldering his duffle.
“Boss said tuh come see him when you gets heah,” Floyd instructed as he came around the front of the truck. “He’ll be in theah,” he added, his southern accent drawing his words out as he pointed to a building on their right.
“Thanks, man,” Vic responded as he hefted his load more comfortably on his shoulder.
“See’s yah laytah,” the other man replied, turning on his heel to head toward the mess hall, whistling Yankee Doodle merrily as he went.
Vic gazed after him for a moment with a small crooked grin and a shake of his head, then turned and found his way to the supervisor’s office and knocked on the open door. A tall, handsome man with neatly combed black hair and a strong, square jawed face sat behind the desk writing. He looked up at the knock and smiled in a friendly manner, gesturing Vic to come inside.
“Come on in, son. I take it you’re Doc’s young friend,” he stated rather than asked.
“Yes, sir. Victor Matthews, sir,” Vic replied, automatically falling into the habit of addressing his superior according to military tradition – something his previous camp commander had insisted upon.
The commanding officer smiled again and stuck out his hand. “Major Frank Connors. I’m the Forest Supervisor and commander of Beaver Ridge,” he explained, motioning for Vic to sit down. “Have a seat, son.” Then after Vic settled into the chair facing the supervisor’s desk and stashed his duffle at his side, the man added, “Your friends call you Vic, right?”