by Lynn Austin
He sighed. “I didn’t want to talk about it because then it might start to seem real. I’ve been assigned to a marine battalion that’s headed to the Pacific Theater. They’re going to try to win back the Philippines and all the other little islands over there.”
Rosa was silent for a long moment, trying to let his words sink in. “My friend Jean has two brothers in the Pacific, one in New Guinea and the other in the Solomon Islands. I guess you’ll be helping them fight the Japanese, huh?”
“I guess so.”
“Those battles seemed so far away whenever Jean talked about them, and I never paid much attention to the news—but I sure will now. When I’m building a ship I always imagine that I’m making it for you. I know that’s silly, since I’m building landing craft for the army, not the navy or the marines. But all the men who’ll use my ships are somebody’s sweetheart, somebody’s son or brother or husband. I want everything I do to be just perfect, so I try to do the very best job I can, every single day.”
“I’m proud of you, Rosa. I can’t imagine such a beautiful, feminine little gal like you doing a man’s job like that, but I’m real proud of you.” He held her tightly for a moment, then said, “You know what I noticed these past few days? You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
“That’s about the hundredth time you told me that,” she said, laughing. “You sound like a broken record.”
“I meant it every time, too. I can’t wait until this war is over and I can come home to you every single night.”
“Maybe we can buy us a nice little house. I been saving all my money and most of yours—after I give some to your folks for room and board every month. Where do you want to live?”
“With you, honey. That’s where.”
They kissed for a while, but when Dirk pulled away and looked at her, Rosa could tell he was worried about something.
“Tell me,” she said.
“When I trained in the hospital wards, I saw some of the men who’d been sent home already—the casualties. So many of them had horrible wounds, Rosa—arms and legs missing, terrible burns … I think I’d rather die quickly than come home to you like that.”
“Dirk Voorhees, don’t you dare talk that way!” She punched his arm as hard as she could. “I don’t care how many arms and legs you got, I don’t want to live without you!” A wave of emotion overpowered her and she broke down and cried in his arms, harder than she had in years. He held her, soothed her.
“Do you really think you could still love me if I wasn’t all in one piece?”
“That’s a stupid, stupid question! How could you even ask a question like that? Just come home to me, Dirk. Promise me that you’ll come home!” Their eyes met. He had tears in his, too.
“I promise,” he said solemnly.
Much too soon, Rosa had to leave him again. Dirk rode with her to the train station and they stood together on the platform, holding each other until her train arrived.
“I was hoping it would be too full and I wouldn’t be able to get a ticket,” she said. “Then I could have a little more time with you.”
“Not much more, I’m afraid. I have to report back to the base in …” He looked at his watch. “In exactly three hours and forty-two minutes.”
“I’ll take whatever time with you I can get.”
He went onboard with her to carry her suitcase and the basket, stowing them in the luggage rack for her. Dirk was so tall he had to duck his head to keep from hitting it on the doorframe. When he turned to take her into his arms, Rosa knew they had finally run out of time. They stood in the crowded aisle, hugging for as long as they could.
“All aboard,” the conductor shouted.
“I don’t want you to go to war!” she wept. “I’m so scared!”
“I’ll be back, Rosa. I promised you I’d come back, remember? Wait for me.”
He kissed her one last time, then ran down the aisle and jumped off the train as it began to move. Rosa hung out of the window, reaching for him. Dirk grabbed her hand and jogged alongside for as long as he could, their fingers clutching.
“I love you, Rosa! I love you… .”
Then she could no longer hang on to him as the train steamed off into the night.
CHAPTER 21
* Virginia *
Ginny walked through the back door after work so exhausted she could have lain down on the floor beside Rex and fallen asleep. The week had been a long one with Rosa away. Ginny and the others had worked through lunch hour every day, trying to meet their work quotas. Now she dreaded all the chores that awaited her at home, but at least she wouldn’t have to cook an elaborate supper tonight; Harold was away in Washington all week. Good thing, too, because the government had begun rationing meat this month, and Ginny didn’t have the time or energy to wait in a long line to buy her allotted amount. She and the boys would be content with tomato soup and toasted cheese sandwiches. Speaking of the boys, the house seemed unnaturally quiet.
“Hello … I’m home,” she called. Rex was waiting near the door to greet her, panting happily, his hindquarters wagging along with his tail. But aside from the sound of the dog’s toenails dancing on the linoleum, the house was silent.
She usually found the boys sitting at the kitchen table when she arrived home or else listening to the radio in the living room. She walked down the hall to the bottom of the stairs and called again.
“Anybody home? Allan? Herbie?”
No reply.
She returned to the kitchen and gazed out the window into the backyard. The shed door stood open. That’s probably where they were. She stuck her head out the back door to call to them, and Rex shot past her, bounding into the yard to do his business. He acted as if he’d been waiting a long time. The boys knew they were supposed to let him out as soon as they got home. Had they forgotten?
She went outside to search for them, but they weren’t in the shed. The wagon was missing, and the usually tidy shed appeared as though someone had been rooting around inside it. Maybe the boys had gone door-to-door in the neighborhood to gather newspapers. It was one of their projects for the Boy Scouts, but they were supposed to wait until she got home. They had been involved in a lot of projects with their scout troop, collecting scrap metal and tin cans, used rubber items, and household fat. Allan could recite all the statistics: “One shovel has enough metal in it to make four hand grenades,” he would tell their neighbors. “And one pound of fat drippings makes one pound of black powder for bullets. Old nylon and silk stockings can be turned into parachutes and tow ropes for gliders… .” And on and on he would go, just like a radio commercial.
Ginny had assigned the boys more chores to do around the house, too, such as drying the dishes, taking out the garbage, and running errands to the store for milk or bread. She had handed her sons a lot of responsibility since taking the job at the shipyard, but never before had they gone off without asking her permission. She stood in the middle of the yard, trying to decide where they could be. Something about the kitchen hadn’t looked quite right. They knew they were supposed to clean up their breakfast dishes before going to school, but their dirty cereal bowls and juice glasses still had been on the table.
She hurried back inside and noticed that the usual pile of coats and schoolbags was missing from the back entryway. So were their lunchboxes. Allan and Herbie were supposed to empty them out after school and put them in the sink.
Where could the boys have disappeared to? This was the first time she had ever come home from work and not found them here. Ginny felt her anxiety level rising, but she told herself to stay calm. Maybe they had gone next door to the Parkers’ house. She hurried across the yard and knocked on their back door. Betty answered it.
“Hello, Virginia. What brings you here?”
Ginny drew a deep breath, trying not to look as fearful as she felt. “Hi, I was wondering if my boys are over here?”
“No. Why? Are they missing?” Ginny recalled Betty’s words at the coc
ktail party about irresponsible mothers gallivanting off and abandoning their children and knew she was blushing.
“So it seems. Do you think Tommy might know where they are?”
“Tommy …” Betty called. “Have you seen the Mitchell boys this afternoon?”
Tommy walked into the kitchen, shaking his head. “Allan wasn’t in school today. I figured he was sick.”
Ginny went cold all over. Not in school? Both boys had been fine when Ginny left for work this morning. Now she was the one who felt sick.
“Is there anything I can do?” Betty asked.
Ginny forced herself to smile. “No, thanks. I’m sure they can’t be far.”
Ginny wasn’t sure at all. She fought panic as her imagination ran wild. The town had grown so quickly since the war started, with all sorts of strange people moving here. Could someone have abducted the boys on their way to school? The thought made her queasy.
Of all the times for Harold to be out of town. Ginny didn’t know what to do. She hurried back home and searched the house, checking their bedrooms to see if they’d left a note for her. She didn’t find one. Her heart had begun to race the moment Tommy Parker said Allan hadn’t gone to school, and it couldn’t seem to stop. What should she do? Who could she call?
She suddenly thought of Helen Kimball. Helen had years of experience with children. Maybe she would know where to look. Ginny’s hands shook as she dialed Helen’s phone number. Her voice shook, too, as she explained that her sons were missing.
“What should I do?” she asked. “Should I call the police? The hospital?”
“I don’t think you need to panic,” Helen said calmly. “Young boys have played hooky since schools were invented. They usually show up safe and sound eventually. But I can understand why you’re worried. Listen, would you like me to drive around and see if I can find them?”
“Oh yes. Please. I don’t have a car and Harold is out of town.”
“Did you try calling Jean’s sister? Doesn’t she baby-sit for them sometimes?”
“That’s a great idea. Thank you.”
But the boys weren’t at Patty’s house, either. “Do you have any idea where they could be?” she asked Patty. “Did they ever say anything to you that might give a hint where they’d go?”
“I can’t think of anything, but I’ll get out the baby carriage and have a look around the neighborhood and the park. Jean can run down to the drugstore. They liked to go there for ice cream and Superman comics. Maybe someone has seen them.”
Ginny hung up the phone, then paced the hallway, trying not to panic. She couldn’t believe that Allan and Herbert would deliberately skip school. Where on earth could they be? She decided to call the school to see if their teachers could offer her any advice.
“We’ve been trying to phone you all day,” the school secretary said after Ginny identified herself. “No one was home. You’re supposed to call the office if your children are ill.”
“Yes, I know. I … I’m calling to explain that my sons are missing. I always leave for work in the morning before they leave for school, and … and it has never been a problem before … I mean, for all the months that I’ve been working. B-but when I got home today they were gone.”
“Well, neither Allan nor Herbert came to school. I’ll have to report them as truants. It will be an unexcused absence on their permanent record.”
“I don’t care about that! Didn’t you hear what I said? Aren’t you concerned that they’re missing?”
“Perhaps you should phone the police, Mrs. Mitchell, instead of the school.”
The police? She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Ginny saw Helen Kimball’s car pulling into the driveway as she hung up the phone and ran to open the front door for her.
“Oh, I’m so glad to see you!” Ginny couldn’t help hugging her. “I … I just don’t know what to do!”
“I had an idea on the way over here. Who is Allan’s best friend?”
“Tommy Parker. He lives next door. He said he hasn’t seen Allan all day.”
“Best friends usually know a lot more than they let on. They promise each other, you see. Swear each other to secrecy and so on. Let’s go see if he knows something he isn’t telling.”
“Will you talk to Tommy and his mother for me?” Ginny asked as she led Helen across the yard to the Parker house. “I’m so intimidated by Betty. She turns up her nose at my job, and she practically came right out and told me once that I was an unfit mother for abandoning the boys and going to work. I’m sure she thinks this is what I deserve.”
“What utter nonsense!” Helen charged up the porch steps and knocked on the door. Betty looked quite surprised when she opened it and saw Helen.
“Miss Kimball? What are you—?”
“I’m helping Ginny find her boys. She and I work together at the shipyard.”
“You work there?”
“You sound surprised. Why is that?”
Betty began to sputter, taken aback by Helen’s question. “Well, I don’t know … I … I mean …”
“Because I’m old? Or because I’m a Kimball? Or is it because you think I’m too well-educated to work in a place like that?”
“No, no, I didn’t mean to imply—”
“The reason I work there, Mrs. Parker, is because our nation is at war, and I felt it was my patriotic duty to do my part. But this is hardly the time or the place for this discussion. I wonder if I might speak with Tommy?”
“Yes, of course. Please, come in…. Tommy!” she called. He looked frightened when he saw Helen.
“Could I have a word with you, please, Tommy?” She drew him aside, leaving Ginny and Betty alone.
“I know you think I’m a terrible mother, Betty, but I love my boys—” Betty started to interrupt but Ginny quickly said, “No, just let me clear up a few things. I went to work because I wanted to, not because we needed the money, not because of any problems between Harold and me, not for any other reason than to help win the war. I know everyone’s gossiping about me behind my back. I used to hear the ladies gossiping all the time when I was a club member, and I got tired of all that. So I went to work, and I met Helen and two other really wonderful women there. Building ships isn’t something I want to do for the rest of my life, but if it will help bring an end to the war, then I’m willing to sacrifice my time. I’m telling you this, Betty, so you can tell all the other ladies. When you wag on and on tomorrow about how unfit I am and how I lost my sons, be sure to tell them that I’m also an accomplished electrician now.”
“You’ve changed, Ginny.”
“I know. The old Ginny never would have had the courage to tell you this to your face, would she?”
Before Betty could reply, Helen returned with Tommy. He looked more subdued than Ginny had ever seen him.
“Tommy has agreed to come with us—if that’s all right with you, Mrs. Parker. He’s going to show us where he and Allan and Herbert have been constructing a fort down by the river.”
“Tommy isn’t allowed down by the river,” Betty said. “He wouldn’t—”
“Perhaps you could discuss that with him when we return,” Helen interrupted. “But for now, it seems that he has been going down to the river and that he does indeed know where the boys might be. I’ll drive him home when we’re finished.”
Tommy climbed into the front seat of Helen’s car with Ginny and pointed the way. They drove the few blocks to the river in silence.
“You can stop right here,” he finally said. Helen parked the car near the curb, and Tommy led the way down into the ravine. Patches of snow still dotted the woods, and Ginny’s feet sank into the soft, muddy ground. She was glad she still wore her work shoes and coveralls. Tangled brush, faintly tinted with spring green, lay on either side of the narrow path.
Then, at the bottom of the riverbank, Ginny saw a mound of scrap lumber and tree branches. Beside it was the boys’ wagon. And their lunchboxes.
“Allan? Herbert?” she called
breathlessly. Herbie stuck his head out of the hut, and Ginny’s knees went weak with relief. “Oh, thank God!” she breathed. She turned and hugged Helen again, mostly to keep from fainting. “How can I ever thank you?”
“No need. I’ll drive young Tommy home and return for you.”
“Thank you, Helen. Thank you so much!”
Helen turned Tommy around and they began climbing back up the path as Ginny descended the rest of the way to the bottom on shaking legs. Both boys crawled out of the hut, looking worried as they watched Ginny pick her way down the ravine toward them. They exchanged nervous glances, then hung their heads, guilt written all over their faces. Ginny didn’t know whether to yell at them or hug them when she finally reached them. She decided to do both at the same time.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” She squeezed Allan in a bear hug that made him grunt. “I’ve been frantic!”
“We were planning on getting back before you got home from work, but I guess we lost track of the time,” he said.
Herbie looked conscience-stricken. He was trying not to cry. “Are we going to get a spanking?”
“Oh, you’re in much worse trouble than a mere spanking. You played hooky from school!”
“Are you going to tell Dad?”
“Of course I am. I have to—you know that. Why did you do such a stupid thing?”
“Tommy Parker says that a bunch of Nazi soldiers are coming here to Stockton any day,” Allan said. “We needed a hiding place, and we were running out of time so we had to skip school and finish our fort before they come.”
“Those men are captured prisoners of war. They don’t have any guns or weapons. Besides, they’ll be in a prison camp way out by Stockton Lake, not here in town.”
“What if they escape and come here?”
“They’ll be very well-guarded, Allan. And if one ever does escape, the guards will track him down with dogs long before he reaches town.”
“This is gonna be a bomb shelter, too,” Herbie said.