The White Knight

by Gilbert, Morris

  Luke pushed the fish around with his fork. “I’ll tell it just like it was and you can put it in your paper, but it won’t do any good.”

  “It might.”

  “The only thing that would wake America up would be bombs falling on their own houses,” Luke said flatly. He took a deep breath. “All right. Go ahead and ask anything you like.”

  Maxine began to fire questions at him, and Luke answered her, his face set in angular planes and his eyes angry.

  ****

  The next evening the Winslow clan gathered at Peter and Jolie’s home, and as Luke looked around the huge dining table, he thought about how odd it was that these three branches of the Winslow family had all settled in the same area.

  Luke’s cousin Patrick pushed his plate away and said, “That was a delicious meal, Luana.”

  “Why thank you, Patrick,” she said as she gathered an armload of dirty plates. “I’s glad you liked it.”

  Patrick and his wife, Seana, were seated across from Luke. Patrick was the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Liberty, and his three children—twins Chad and Casey, along with Keir—had been corralled and brought to the dinner. They were all watching him with obvious admiration.

  Wesley Winslow and his wife, Leah, had brought their three children as well—Clive and Brandon, fifteen-year-old twins, and Leslie, a year younger. Although Patrick and Wesley were distant cousins, their families were so similar that the two men felt almost like brothers. Their twins were just a year apart in age, and among the six kids, there was only a two-year age spread.

  Throughout the meal, the kids had kept Luke busy telling war stories. He had softened them enough to make them acceptable to the family, especially during a meal, and finally Chad Winslow, son of the Baptist preacher, said, “Luke, when you shot down all those planes, did all the men die?”

  “No. Some of them parachuted out.”

  “How many did you kill?”

  “I didn’t keep count, Chad. As a matter of fact, you don’t think about the men so much. You just think about their plane. Just getting it out of the air.” Even as Luke spoke, he knew this was not true. The battle between himself and Erich Ritter had certainly been man against man, not machine against machine.

  Leslie, blond with green eyes and pretty enough to be on a magazine cover, said, “Maybe sometime you could come to the high school and we could have an assembly, Luke.”

  “I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

  “I think it would be a great idea,” Wesley said, “and I’d like to photograph it.” Wesley Winslow, at the age of thirty-five, did not have the good looks of most of the Winslow breed. He was more of a plain-looking individual.

  “What for?”

  “Why, I might be able to get Luke’s story in some of the big city papers.”

  “That’d be a good idea,” Leah said. Looking at her, one knew where all three of the children had got their golden blond hair and emerald green eyes.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Patrick said. He was a big man, getting a little heavy now, who had played fullback during his college years at the University of Arkansas.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Luke’s brother said. “It’ll be good for you to get your story out.” Timothy’s family had not come. Mary and the kids were visiting Mary’s sister in Hot Springs. Tim had already talked to Luke once about coming to work at the factory and had been put off in a rather gentle fashion.

  “I’m not sure anybody wants to hear my story, Tim,” Luke said.

  “Why, of course they do!” Tim said with surprise. “It’s big-time news.”

  “I think Tim’s right,” Peter put in. “Why don’t you do it, Luke?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll be glad to go, but I can’t guarantee the results.”

  All of the young people were excited about the prospect of their famous relative speaking at their school.

  “I’ll go talk to Mr. Franks at school tomorrow,” Leslie offered.

  “Who’s he?” Luke asked.

  “Donald Franks—he’s the principal.”

  “Okay, Leslie. You set it up and I’ll come.”

  After the meal Patrick’s wife, Seana, who had said little, pulled Luke off to one side. “Why don’t you want to go, Luke?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “The reason I don’t want to go is because of those young men I’ll be talking to. They’re so young, but by the time they get out of high school, maybe even before, I’m afraid young men like that will be dying all over Europe and maybe even elsewhere in the world.”

  “You can’t know that, Luke.”

  “See? You’re related to me and you don’t believe me. Why should they? They’re interested in three little fishies in a little pond and Gone With the Wind.”

  ****

  By the time Luke had spoken for five minutes with the principal of Liberty High School, Luke knew his initial instinct was correct. His stories about the war in Spain would not be appreciated.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t dwell too much on your . . . uh . . . service in Spain,” Donald Franks was saying.

  “Why is that, sir?”

  “Oh, we don’t want to get the students upset.”

  “Don’t you believe that my service in Spain was necessary, Mr. Franks?”

  “Certainly not. You see what it came to, Mr. Winslow. Our country doesn’t have any business getting involved in a foreign war like that.”

  Luke knew it was useless to try to change the man’s mind. Instead he agreed to share a few remarks with the students about life in Spain and leave it at that.

  ****

  A week later, when Luke stood up to speak in the auditorium, he told the students about some of the food he had eaten while in Spain, he told them about trying to communicate in a foreign language, and he told them about the magnificent old castles and cathedrals he had seen. All the while he kept thinking about friends he had lost in the war in Spain.

  “Let me tell you about Barney Carter,” he finally said. “He was born in a little town in North Carolina, went to a school about like yours here, and decided to try to do something to make the world a better place.” He hesitated before continuing. “The last time I saw Barney he had been torn to pieces by machine-gun fire from a German airplane. The bullets struck him in the head and almost cut him in two. He was dead when his plane crashed into a field in Spain.”

  Total silence fell over the auditorium, and one glance at Donald Franks revealed a man who was outraged.

  “Barney died for a cause. He knew what was going on in the world. He knew that a man called Adolf Hitler is determined to rule the entire world. If someone doesn’t stop him, some of you young men out there will die like Barney did.”

  Again the silence was almost thunderous. “I know my opinion is not popular, but let me just tell you what has happened. In 1935 Adolf Hitler violated the Treaty of Versailles by introducing military training for Germans. In September of that same year all German Jews were stripped of their citizenship and all of their rights by the Nuremberg Laws, and in March 1936 German troops occupied the Rhineland.” Luke went on remorselessly. “He sent military aid of all kinds to help a ruthless dictator called Franco in Spain. In March of ’38 he took over Austria, doubling the size of the German nation, and in October of that year the German troops occupied the Sudetenland.

  “And now it’s 1939. Hitler has threatened the Jews in every way a man can, and in March the Nazis took over the rest of Czechoslovakia. In May Hitler signed an alliance with Italy, and he’s ready to make his next move. And I can tell you what it will be. He will set his sights on some small nation in Europe, and he will invade it. The world will protest and he will promise never to do it again, but he will. He will never be stopped except by force.”

  Luke finished his speech and received a smattering of applause.

  After the students had filed out of the auditorium, Donald Franks approached L
uke, his face red. “That was terrible!” he said furiously. “You have alarmed these young people and caused them undue anxiety.”

  “No I haven’t. They’re not alarmed. They’re bored and so are you, Mr. Franks.”

  Luke abruptly left the building and found Maxine Rogers waiting for him just outside the door. “I didn’t know you were here,” he said.

  “Your mother called me and told me you’d be speaking today. I wanted to hear you.”

  “What did you think of their reaction?” Luke asked grimly. “I was underwhelming, wasn’t I?”

  “They don’t understand it.”

  “That’s right, they don’t, but they will when these same young men go out to face Hitler’s soldiers.”

  ****

  After the speech at the high school, Luke went into a self-imposed seclusion. During the next two months, he spent most of his time at home, by himself. He began to drink more than he should. He did see Maxine Rogers a few times during this period, although he had no interest in pursuing a relationship. He was consumed with the relationship that had died in a senseless war in Spain.

  Finally one day Tim came to the house and found Luke reading a book in the living room. Tim greeted Luke and then sat down and laid his cards on the table.

  “Luke, you’re breaking Dad’s heart and Mom’s too. It’s not just the drinking, but you’re doing nothing with your life.”

  Luke had been out late the night before, and he knew his eyes were bloodshot. He laid the book down. “What do you suggest I do?”

  “You’re my big brother, Luke, and I love you. You could have a satisfying career.”

  “At the factory?”

  “Well, of course at the factory. It’s going to be your company one day—yours and mine. It’s already doing well. You could help make it even better—and bigger—but you don’t seem to care.”

  “And you think if I throw myself into a career I’ll be all right?”

  “Of course I do. It’s just what you need. You need a focus for your future.”

  Luke took a deep breath. He knew his parents were disappointed in his behavior and his lack of direction. “All right, Tim,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll give it a try.”

  “Great! Will you come in tomorrow?”

  Luke nodded, although his heart wasn’t in it.

  “I’ll meet you at the factory at eight o’clock. You’re going to love it!”

  Luke smiled but knew that Tim was wrong.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Turning a Blind Eye

  September brought cooler breezes, and the leaves had turned to red and gold on the hardwoods down the streets of Liberty. Luke left the house and drove the old pickup truck that his father had helped him buy to the factory, his mind blank. The two months he had put in at the Winslow plant had been a waste of time. He had tried to become interested in the business and thrown himself into the work, but he simply didn’t have whatever it is that makes a man a successful businessman. Maybe Tim had received the allotment for the family.

  He approached the factory thinking, Here it is. The biggest business in Liberty, a thriving auto parts factory, and it will all belong to me and Tim one day. He tried to work up some excitement about that but could not. Part of this, he knew, was the fact that his mind was still in Spain, and he seldom went through a day without painful memories of Melosa and her family. Even as he drove along now, he remembered playing ball with Isadora and Victor. He remembered how their white teeth had flashed and how their laughter had floated on the air.

  Then almost immediately the harsh, terrible memory of their crushed and broken bodies as he had dug them out of the rubble seared his mind. Luke gritted his teeth and tried to wrench his mind away, but it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore the images.

  As he pulled into the parking lot, into the space with his name on it, his mouth twisted with a wry expression. Tim had introduced him to a woman named Loretta Maddox. Loretta’s father, Thomas, was an influential member of the United States House of Representatives. He had been instrumental in bringing contracts to many Arkansas businesses, and Tim was desperate for his brother to make the alliance.

  “Look, it’s time for you to get married, Luke,” Tim had said only a week earlier, “and Loretta’s a beautiful woman—smart too.”

  “And her father is a representative who can throw business our way,” Luke had sneered.

  “That’s a rotten thing to say!”

  “Don’t tell me it isn’t true.”

  “It’s just business, Luke.”

  “If I get married, it won’t be for business.”

  “Everything I say is wrong,” Tim said. He had been disappointed in his brother’s behavior ever since he had returned from overseas. He just couldn’t understand what had happened to him. Squaring his shoulders, he said, “You ought to be thankful for a chance like this.”

  “I’m just not cut out for this kind of life—getting up every day and working at a desk in an office.”

  “If you’d stop drinking so much and put your heart into this business, you might find out you are cut out for it. I know you love airplanes and airplane engines—I thought this would be the perfect environment for you.”

  “I do love airplanes and airplane parts. But pushing papers around on a desk and telling other people what to do in a car parts factory is a far cry from tinkering with an airplane engine until it purrs like a kitten and then taking that same machine up above the clouds . . . They’re worlds apart,” he said with frustration.

  Tim had glared at him and walked away.

  Now as Luke got out of his car, he thought of the three dates he had had with Loretta Maddox. They had gone to a football game at Liberty High School, and that had brought back old memories. They had gone to a performance of the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra, which thrilled Loretta but did little for Luke. And they had gone to a movie that neither of them liked. Even though Loretta had other men pursuing her, Luke knew that if he was willing to throw himself into the courtship, he could interest her. But he had little interest and no energy for it. By the time he had put in a day at the factory, he had little energy left to do anything else. Nonetheless, he has asked her on another date for that evening, more to keep Tim off his back than anything.

  As he entered the building, he was greeted by many of the workers. He returned the smiles and greetings and headed toward his office, but before he could enter, he heard his name. Turning, he saw Tim, who was coming to him with a frown on his face. “It’s nearly ten o’clock. Where have you been?”

  “I overslept.”

  Tim glared at him. “Come into my office. We’ve got to talk.”

  The talk amounted to a lecture on how Luke would never amount to anything or be of any help to the company until he made some changes—in his lifestyle and in his attitude. Luke accepted what his brother said, knowing it was all true. When Tim finished, Luke promised him he would try to do better.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Luke. Everything you’ve ever done you’ve succeeded at, except that war thing, and that wasn’t your fault. You’ve always had enough drive for ten men. Why can’t you put that same drive into our business? Can’t you see what this could mean for your future?”

  “It would mean security, a lot of money, and success in the world of business,” Luke said flatly. “I’m sorry, and I know this is hard for you to understand, but I’m not terribly interested in those things.”

  Tim read the cynicism in Luke’s tone. “And what’s wrong with wanting a good life?”

  “I’m not convinced it’s all that good.”

  “Is what you’ve got any better? What did Spain get you? Nothing but a bunch of bad memories.”

  Luke straightened up and had to bite back the hot reply that rose to his lips. He hated these sessions with Tim! He had not told anyone about Melosa, but he knew that his family was aware that Spain had done something terrible to him. It had made him different, and he could not even tell his pare
nts about it, much less Tim, who thought the whole thing had been a fiasco.

  Tim shook his head. “Are you and Loretta still going out tonight?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  Tim started to give him some advice, but the look on Luke’s face made him change his mind. “Well, I hope you have a good time. Now, let’s go over these invoices I mentioned yesterday. I’ll show you what I was talking about. . . .”

  ****

  Luke took Loretta Maddox to the Robinson Auditorium in Little Rock for a performance of the Ballet Russes. Loretta had studied ballet herself and was thrilled by the performance by the Russians. She turned in the middle of the production to say, “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  Trying to joke about it, Luke said, “I wonder why they don’t just find taller girls—then they wouldn’t have to stand on their toes.” At once he saw that this offended her, and he said in a softer tone, “I suppose it is good, but I think you have to know more about it than I do to appreciate how difficult it is.”

  Loretta said no more, but after they left and were on their way home, she said, “What’s the matter with you, Luke? Nothing suits you. You’re always in a foul mood.”

  “Didn’t you listen to the radio today?”

  “No, I didn’t. I didn’t have time.”

  “Hitler invaded Poland today.”

  “Luke, all you can think about is that war over there. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Somebody had better do something. I don’t know why England’s not jumping in. They’ll have to fight Hitler sooner or later. Even they can see that now.”

  “Of course they won’t. They’re on an island. Hitler can’t get at them there.”

  “Did you ever hear of airplanes, Loretta?” Luke asked grimly. “That little island isn’t all that far from France. If Hitler takes France, all they’ll have to do is send his bombers across the English Channel. Bombs will be falling within months.”

  “He can’t conquer France. That’s a big country—a powerful country. That could never happen, not in a million years!”