The High Calling

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The High Calling Page 24

by Gilbert, Morris


  “Yes, I think I had them when I was seven or eight.”

  “That’s great. Then I’ll send Joseph into town to pick you up. Say, in about an hour?”

  “All right, Parker. I’ll be ready.”

  “Katherine . . . ?”

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “I hate to ask you to help like this, but I can’t think of anybody else.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll pack a bag so that I can stay long enough to see the twins get their bearings.”

  “Thank you, Katherine. I’ll be here waiting when you come.”

  ****

  “Let me hold this umbrella over you, Miss Katherine. You’ll get soaked.”

  “Thank you.” Kat got out of the car, and Joseph held the umbrella over her as they made their way to the front door. “Now you’re getting soaked, Joseph.”

  “No matter, miss. I’m just glad you could come. Mr. Parker has been worried half to death, and Lord Braden and his wife too.”

  The two of them reached the shelter of the porch, and the door opened at once.

  “Terrible weather,” Parker said. “You must be soaked.”

  “No, Joseph took very good care of me.” She turned and said, “Thank you very much, Joseph.”

  “You’re welcome, miss.”

  “Joseph, you can take Katherine’s bag up to the guest bedroom,” Parker instructed.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The only good thing about this rain is that there won’t be any raids by the Jerries,” Parker said. “Come in and let me take your coat.”

  “How are you feeling, Parker?” Kat asked as she slipped out of her coat.

  “Well, my eyes still trouble me at times, but not nearly so much. Come into the drawing room. We’ve got a fire going in there. It’s terrible to get you out on a day like this.”

  “No. It’s no trouble.”

  “Of course it’s trouble, but as I said, I didn’t know anyone else to call.”

  The two went into the drawing room, where Cooper was putting a log on the fire.

  He smiled at her and said, “Good morning, miss.”

  “Good morning, Cooper. My, that fire looks good.”

  “It feels good on a day like this.”

  “Could you bring us some tea, Cooper?” Parker asked.

  “Certainly, sir.”

  As the butler left the room, Parker said, “Stand by the fire and get some of the cold out of you.”

  “You say your father’s sick?” Kat said as she backed up to the fire and felt the heat soaking in.

  “Yes. Bronchitis.” He shook his head, and his brow furrowed. “He’s had it before, and it always worries us. It could go into pneumonia so easily. It’s all Mother can do to take care of him.”

  “Perhaps we should get him to the hospital.”

  “He hates hospitals.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “The doctor is doing his best to keep him comfortable. He says just don’t let him go outside or tire himself. He’s hard to keep down, though.”

  “That was a pretty bad bump you took.”

  “It split my forehead open. I had to have twelve stitches.” Parker reached up and touched the bandage on his forehead. “Good thing I hit my head, where I’m toughest.”

  “You must feel pretty bad with a concussion like that.”

  He smiled slightly. “Now that you’re here, I feel much better.”

  “Are the twins awake?”

  “Oh yes. Once I told them you were coming, there was no getting them to take a nap.”

  The two of them went up to the twins’ bedroom. “Well, here she is,” Parker announced. “I hope you two will be nice.”

  “Mith Kat, I hurt!” Paul complained.

  Kat went over at once and sat down on the side of the bed, and Paul crawled up into her lap. Of course, Heather demanded equal space. Kat adjusted them both until they were all fairly comfortable, and she could feel they had fevers. “I’ve come to take care of you two, so you’ve got to be very good.”

  “I’m good,” Paul announced, “but I hurt.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you both lie down and I’ll read to you.”

  This pleased the twins exceedingly. “I can handle this, Parker, if you have something to do.”

  “No. I don’t have anything to do. The doctor said I shouldn’t do anything except work on recovering. Do you mind if I stay?”

  “Get in bed with us, Daddy,” Heather called.

  “No. I’ll just come and sit on the other side.” He came over and sat down. “Let’s be very quiet now so Katherine can tell a story.”

  Kat began making up an outlandish story and soon she was rewarded by seeing the children grow sleepy and also by Parker’s smile as he listened to her impossible concoctions. When both of the children were asleep, she got up. Parker did also, and the two of them pulled the covers over the twins and moved silently out of the room.

  Parker closed the door silently. “You are so good with children.”

  “I just like making up stories. I’ve never had an adult listen to one of my stories before.”

  “I’d like to hear how this one comes out.”

  “I haven’t thought ahead to the ending yet. I just make it up as I go.”

  “Let’s go down and fix a sandwich or something.”

  The two of them went down to the kitchen, where they found the cook making tarts. When Kat admitted she hadn’t had breakfast, Parker asked, “Could you fix up a nice breakfast for our nurse, Cook?”

  “That I can and for you too, sir. You sit right there. It won’t take long.”

  When the breakfast was delivered, Kat ate heartily. She noticed that Parker was only picking at his food and made a mental note to see to it that he ate better. “If you don’t clean your plate, you’ll be a bad boy and Santa Claus won’t come to see you.”

  Parker laughed but then quickly winced. “Ow, that hurt my head! You mustn’t be so amusing, Katherine.”

  “All right. I promise to be as dull as possible.”

  After they ate, he showed Kat to her room. “Why don’t you take some time and lie down, if you’d like? You’ll probably need the rest later on.”

  “No, let’s just go down and sit in front of the fire. I may doze off there.”

  The two went back to the drawing room and found Parker’s mother there. She greeted Kat warmly, her relief evident. “I’m so glad you’re here, my dear.”

  “I hope I can help.”

  After Grace gave Kat an update on her husband’s condition, Kat encouraged her to lie down and take a nap while she had a chance.

  “You know, I believe I will,” Grace said.

  “Is your husband awake?”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “Well, I’ll check in on him later to see if he’s awake or if he needs anything. You go rest.”

  “Thank you, dear. You’re a godsend.”

  As Grace left the room, Parker said, “Mother’s about reached the end of her rope—and so have I.”

  “Well, maybe you need to go rest too.”

  “I will after a while. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  The two sat down, and Kat began to speak of the activities that filled her life—helping to provide food and shelter for the homeless, taking food to the airfield for the fliers and mechanics, and nursing the sick and wounded.

  The fire crackled pleasantly in the fireplace, and a large clock on the mantel made a slow, regular ticking. Outside, the rain was still coming down, making the coziness of the room all the more welcome.

  “I love your home, Parker. I know it’s expensive to maintain, but it’s so lovely.”

  “It is nice, isn’t it? I really don’t mind spending the money.”

  “How’s your family’s aircraft business?”

  “Father says there’s more business than we can possibly handle. Of course, he hired a new manager when I left to join the RAF, and apparently the man is doing a fine job.”
He sat quietly for a time staring at the fire, and once he picked up the poker and rolled a log over, sending golden sparks flying up the chimney. He sat back down beside her on the couch that Cooper had pulled over in front of the fire.

  “This is nice,” she said.

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it? I’ve been thinking lately about how odd life is. You never know what’s coming. One day’s fine—the birds are singing and the sun is shining—and the next day the monsters come out from under the bed and out of the closet.”

  “No monsters today.” She leaned over and squeezed his hand. “Just a nice warm room with a welcoming fire.”

  “And with you here to take care of us all.”

  The smell of burning wood was sharp in the room, and they sat there talking, both of them relaxed. “I read something the journalist Malcolm Muggeridge said once,” Parker said. “I wrote it down and memorized it.”

  “I’ve heard of him. He’s British, isn’t he?”

  Parker nodded.

  “What did he say?”

  “‘Every happening, great and small, is a parable whereby God speaks to us, and the art of life is to get the message.’”

  She smiled at him. “Hmm. Interesting. No wonder you memorized it.”

  “It is good, isn’t it? Sometimes it’s hard to get God’s messages.”

  “I know. He doesn’t send Western Union telegrams telling us what to do. I’ve often wondered why He’s so cryptic in His commands to us,” Kat commented. “I’ve always thought that He likes to honor those who seek Him.”

  “You’re probably right. I’ve always admired those who know the art of finding God. I’ve read about several of the great believers who would pray all night.” He turned to her and smiled. “I tried that once.”

  “Did you? How was it?”

  “All I discovered was that I can sleep in any position.”

  Kat giggled. “I had about the same experience. Every time I’ve ever tried to fast for a long period it doesn’t work.”

  “You mean you can’t think of anything but eating?”

  “Yes. I’m not very spiritual, I’m afraid.”

  “Me either.”

  They sat silently and listened to the fire crackle. “Do you think about your home a great deal, Katherine?”

  “Sometimes I do, but lately I’ve been so busy I haven’t even had time for that.” She leaned forward, staring into the fire and listening to the sibilant sound of a log releasing its moisture. “Have you heard of the new book You Can’t Go Home Again?”

  “Yes, I did hear something about it. It was written by Thomas Wolfe, wasn’t it?”

  “You know of him?”

  “I don’t know much about him, but I do remember hearing this book was published after he died.”

  “Yes, that’s right. I haven’t read it yet, but I keep thinking about that title. You can’t go home again.”

  “What does that mean to you?” he asked.

  “Why, I think it means much like the philosopher who said, ‘You can’t step in the same river twice.’”

  “I haven’t heard that one.”

  “Well, you see what it means. The river that flows today will be different tomorrow. The water you stepped in yesterday has now gone down to the sea.”

  “And you feel that way about going home? I’m surprised.”

  “This is the first time I’ve ever really been away from home, Parker.” She leaned back and twisted to face him. The flickering tongues of flame from the fireplace threw a yellow corona of light over his cheek and highlighted the bandage. He looked more rested than he had when she had come in the door, and she was glad to think that, perhaps, it was due to her. “But things change so quickly.”

  “Yes. A fellow can bend over to tie his shoes, and when he straightens up the whole world’s changed.”

  “Well, I never thought of it like that, but I think if you try to go back, you may rediscover an old path and wander over it. But the best you can do is say, ‘Oh yes, I remember this place.’ Yet it’s somehow not the same.”

  Parker reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. She turned quickly to him, and he said, “All the words in the dictionary, and I’ve been trying to think of some way ever since you came this morning to say how much this means to me and to all of us.”

  “Why, I was glad to do it, Parker. You’d do the same for me.”

  He removed his hand at once, and they sat quietly for a time. “Do you like living in the country?”

  “Yes, I like the country. Even when we lived in New York City, I was always trying to get my dad to take me over to Central Park so I could feel like I was out in the country. Back in Georgia I’d get up every morning and go to the window, and I’d see the sun. And I’d always say, ‘You son of a gun, you did it again!’”

  Parker laughed. “What a thing to say!”

  “I know. I’d hate for you to see the diary I kept when I was in my teens. I went back and read it before I left for London and couldn’t believe any human could be that foolish.”

  “And you’re still searching for that high calling you talk so much about.”

  “I don’t talk about it much anymore, Parker.”

  “Do you think you’ve found it, then? Serving in the mission and working in the hospital?”

  “I . . . don’t know. I’m not sure of much of anything anymore.”

  His face clouded. “I know that feeling,” he said quietly. Suddenly he asked, “Have you seen the movie The Wizard of Oz?”

  “Oh yes! It’s a wonderful movie.”

  “You know what that movie means to me, the whole essence of it?”

  “What?”

  “That happiness is to be found in our own backyards. We don’t have to go off seeking any wizard to give it to us.”

  “Why, of course, that’s very true. Most of us don’t recognize it, though. Maybe God’s tired of me pestering Him to put me in whatever high place He has.”

  After some more quiet conversation, she said, “I’d better go check on your father.”

  “All right. I’ll go see what we’ll be having for dinner tonight.”

  ****

  Kat stayed busy all day. She took Gregory’s supper to him and at his request sat down and talked with him for half an hour. He did not feel well, but he did seem eager to have company. He asked her to tell him about America, and he listened attentively. “I’d love to go there someday,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “You should. You and my father would get along well. You’re alike in many ways.”

  “Oh, he’s a handsome man, is he?”

  “You’re full of vanity, Lord Braden! Yes, he is a handsome man, and I think he’s the most honest and decent and loving man I’ve ever known.”

  “What a wonderful thing to say of anyone!”

  “Well, it’s true. Promise me when you get well and this war is over you’ll come and see us.”

  “I will,” Gregory said firmly. “Grace and I will come, and maybe we can get Parker and the twins to come too. We’ll descend on you like the Assyrians came down on the fold, as the poem says.”

  “You like Byron?”

  “I like that one.”

  “I’ll read it to you sometime. I read it once and won a competition back when I was in school. Oh, I did love all the swashbuckling and roaring.” She giggled and said, “But I won. Perhaps because I was the loudest.”

  Gregory grew sleepy, so she excused herself and spent much of the evening with the children. After she had tucked the children into bed, Kat said, “You need to go to bed too, Parker. You’re trying to do too much.”

  “All right. I will. Sleep well, and thanks again for coming.”

  “I love your family,” Kat said, “and I’m glad I could help.”

  “They love you too.” He wanted to add the words “all of us” but knew that would not be right. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  ****

  Parker’s condition improved considerably over the next few d
ays, and so did that of the twins. Parker was talking about returning to duty, and the rest of the family was trying to convince him that it was too soon. He finally agreed to stay home for another day or two.

  As for Kat, she had never felt so much at home with a family as she did with Lord and Lady Braden. She had not imagined that nobility could be so warm and genuine. She had imagined they might be cold and very formal.

  Another surprise had been Parker’s aunt Edith, who had always disliked Americans. She had returned two days ago from her visit to Oxford, where she had been doing research. She had been spending a considerable amount of time with Kat, and one day she commented to Grace that she would have to revise her opinion of Americans if Kat was a good sample.

  Kat knew she had to get back to the mission, however, and Parker made up his mind to go back to the base at the same time.

  “I’ll just do office work,” he said defensively. “No going up until the doctor clears me. I couldn’t anyway.”

  On the final afternoon of Kat’s stay, Parker and Kat were walking outside and Parker was showing her his vegetable garden. His pride was evident as he pointed out the various plants and even picked a few vegetables. “We have to have a man come in and tend it now, but I used to love doing the gardening.”

  “I’ve always loved gardening too. We had such a big one in Georgia. There were hard days when I was growing up—the Depression and all—so we grew everything we possibly could.”

  They walked for a time, and finally he stopped and looked back at the house and sighed. “I hate to leave. I wish I didn’t ever have to go back.”

  Kat was surprised. It was the first time he had ever said anything like this. She knew he loved to fly but hated the part of his job that included killing other men.

  “I hate to leave too.”

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could just stay like this always?”

  “Yes, it would, but as we’ve said before, things change.”

  “That’s not always true.”

  “What do you mean, Parker?”

  “You don’t change, Katherine. You’re always the same.”

  “Why, I’m as changeable as a weather vane! Crying one day and laughing the next. You know that.”

  “In essentials you’re always the same.”

 

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