Incommunicado

by Randall Platt

  CHAPTER 38

  Sheriff Hillary stops us before we get out of the parking lot. Father Donlevy is driving the church station wagon. I’m in the passenger seat, and Mom and Rex are in the back.

  “So, just the people I’ve been wanting to see,” the sheriff begins.

  “Get out of the way, Hillary. Rex is sick. We need to get to Coastal General,” Mom says.

  “Just a minute. So, where have you Stokes been? I’ve looked everywhere for you.”

  “I mean it, Hillary. Rex is really sick! Father, keep driving,” Mom says, leaning forward.

  “I need to talk to Jewels. Why don’t you leave her with me while you and the father go on to C. G.?” She opens the side door.

  “Mom? I want to stay with you.”

  “Jewels,” Sheriff Hillary says, “I’ll take you up to C. G. after I’ve asked a few questions.”

  “Mom?”

  “Jewels, honey, go ahead. We’ve got to get Rex to a doctor quick.”

  “She’ll be fine with me,” Sheriff Hillary says. “Just have to clear a little mix-up so we can get this so-called Jap invasion foofaraw settled.”

  And then they are gone—Father Donlevy, Mom, and Rex. And here’s me, sitting in the front seat of Sheriff Hillary’s squad car.

  “Well? Any explanation?”

  I play it dumb. “For what? Alls I know is my brother’s sick.”

  “I mean about Janie Johnson. She said she saw you last night with a Japanese man.”

  “Janie Johnson? You mean all this foofaraw is over something that little brat said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Janie Johnson is a liar. Everybody knows that! Yes, I was out last night. Me and Rex were walking Hero when Janie’s little rat-dog attacked us. If there was any Jap invasion last night, it was by Janie’s Jap-dog.”

  “She said she saw a Japanese man. And you. Not Rex.”

  “Well, it was Rex. And I wisht it wasn’t, because he fell trying to get the dog fight broke up and that’s why he’s on his way to C. G. right now. Now, will you please take me up there like you promised my mom and Father Donlevy?”

  She looks at me hard. “You know, they still haven’t caught that Tommy Kaye.”

  I return her hard look. “Well, maybe they have bigger fish to fry and that’s why they haven’t caught him.”

  “I always thought it was very interesting that he runs off and you Stokes step in pretty as you please with Kaye Enterprises.”

  “If it wasn’t for Kaye Enterprises, there wouldn’t be much of a Sea Park. Guess we wouldn’t even need us a sheriff,” I say.

  She narrows her eyes and glares at me. “Remember who you’re talking to, missy. I hope you know your little dog fight last night is at no small expense to this community. I had to call the National Guard. Things like this are not taken lightly, not in these times.” She points north toward the Columbia River. “You may think this is a game, but this is war! Every Japanese sighting is taken very seriously!”

  “Tell that to Janie Johnson, then. She’s the one who said she saw something. Now, can you just get me out of here?”

  “All right. Just one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “Where were you, Rex, and your mother last night? I knocked on the café, I called your apartment, I went to Edna’s, and I checked all the cabins. Just where do you people vanish to?”

  This one I’m ready for. “Church.” It’s not a lie.

  “Church? Didn’t know you folks took church so serious.”

  “My brother was hurt! Guess you didn’t know Father Donlevy knows a lot about medicine. Since Doc Ellis enlisted, just who else is there to help someone?” I look out the window and know I’ve talked myself out of the woods. She sighs, puts on her cap, and drives me the five miles to Coastal General.

  “Look, Jewels,” she says, as I get out, “I’m sure Rex is going to be okay. Besides, his term as Town Hood isn’t up yet. You just tell him that for me, okay?” And, for the first time since before Pearl Harbor, she winks and smiles at me.

  But I can’t tell him even if I wanted to.

  Mom tells me Rex has gone into a coma.

  • • •

  “What am I going to do?” she asks over and over. “Oh, Jewels. It’s bad.”

  And we—Father Donlevy, Mom, and me—can only sit and wait.

  The doctor finally comes out.

  “Doctor?” Mom asks.

  “It’s what I thought, Mrs. Stokes. Two broken ribs. One has punctured a lung.”

  Mom gasps. “What do we do?”

  “Well, surgery and soon as possible.”

  “Do I have to sign something? I can’t remember, is he allergic to anything?”

  “Mrs. Stokes, I can’t perform this operation. Our surgery isn’t nearly as sophisticated as this calls for. We just can’t break open a chest here.”

  Did I hear that right? Break open a chest? Break open my brother’s chest?

  “Well, then where? Astoria? Tillamook? Where do I take him?” Mom asks.

  “I doubt they can, either. He’s needs a thoracic surgeon.”

  “Well, then where can I find one of those?” Mom demands.

  “Portland or Seattle.”

  That puts Mom into the nearest chair. She begins sobbing into her hands.

  I go to her side and Father Donlevy asks the doctor, “What’s our time frame on this? I mean, getting him to Portland will take at least half a day—Seattle probably a whole day. That’s if we can do it during daylight hours.”

  I see the doctor take Father Donlevy aside, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. But I can tell by the ever-so-slight shake of the doctor’s head that this is really bad.

  I need air. I go outside and look north toward Seattle, east toward Portland, and south toward Sea Park. The keys to St. Bart’s station wagon are still in the ignition. And it hits me. They may not know what to do, but I do! I climb in the car, flip the wagon around, and drive to Sea Park, going sixty and not giving a hoot who doesn’t like it.

  CHAPTER 39

  “And don’t tell me you can’t because I know you can!” I holler down at Mr. Kaye.

  “Jewels, what are you talking about? How’s Rex? What is going on out there?”

  “Fly!”

  “What?”

  “We got to get Rex to the hospital in Portland fast! He’s got a punctured lung! And you’re going to fly him. I saw your plane. Don’t tell me you can’t!”

  “But . . .”

  “You look me in the eye and tell me you can’t fly, Tommy Kaye!” I scream down at him from the landing.

  He looks up at me. “I can’t fly.”

  “I found that old photo of you and Mom in the plane!”

  “Jewels, a lot has happened since then.”

  “I don’t care! I got a dying brother, and you got an airplane! I don’t care if I got to fly it myself—we’re getting Rex to Portland!”

  “Just let me think.” Mr. Kaye looks around his room and then rushes to the strongbox. He pulls out some keys and some papers. He mutters, “Cash. We’ll need cash.”

  From there, he goes through some of the Japanese books I’d gotten him and he fans out hundred-dollar bills that are pressed between the pages. He sees my face as the bills go drifting onto the Oriental carpet.

  “I haven’t trusted banks since 1932,” is all he says. He grabs the bills up and says, “Get me my slicker! The green one.”

  He puts on his slicker and holds up a pair of sunglasses. “I’ve been keeping these in case I ever get out in the sun again.”

  I check to see if any of the beach or civilian patrols are still looking for Janie’s Jap invader. Then I give him the high sign and Mr. Kaye scrambles from the stairwell to the station wagon.

  I head for the airplane hangar out on Beach Berry Road, only slowing down for the stop signs.

  “When did you learn how to drive?” Mr. Kaye asks.

  “I don’t know. When I got tired of hauling Mom home in a
handcart from Edna’s. Rex taught me.” Silence. “When did you learn how to fly?”

  He takes off his sunglasses and rubs his eyes. “My eyes aren’t use to the sun.”

  “When did you learn how to fly?” I ask again.

  “I told you, that picture you found was taken a long, long time ago.”

  “I know. Since back in the twenties. Barnstorming.”

  “You should be hearing this from your mother, not me.”

  “Hear what?”

  He sighs. “Your mother and I have known each other a long time. Before Rex was born. We were in business together.”

  “What kind of business? The airplane business?”

  “Stop!” He is looking dead ahead at the landing strip.

  I slam on the breaks and see what Mr. Kaye is staring at. It’s the McAloon twins on horseback, patrolling the landing strip.

  “Get down,” I say, slowly driving close to the hangar’s side door. “I’ll get rid of them.”

  I get out and run toward the McAloons, waving my arms and hollering. “Help! Help!”

  They come galloping over and pull up in front of me. “What’s the matter, girl?”

  “Back in town! Something’s up! Something big!”

  “But we’re guarding the landing strip,” one of them says.

  The other says, “What’s happening in town?”

  “I don’t know. They just told me to get you boys back to the beach.”

  They look at each other. “This could be it,” one says.

  “Let’s ride!”

  And they do. I feel a brief blush of guilt. Not for lying, but for those two poor, old horses, having to run like the wind back to town. I pull the car door open. “It’s safe! You can . . .”

  But Mr. Kaye is inside the hangar pumping gas from huge barrels into the plane. “I’ll get her ready. You go get Rex!” he hollers.

  “Will this thing even fly?” I holler back.

  “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  “Thought you said you can’t fly.”

  “I can’t. Legally.” And there, at last, is the confident Mr. Kaye smile I haven’t seen in months.

  CHAPTER 40

  “How is he?” I ask, rushing into the waiting room.

  “He’s conscious, thank God,” Father Donlevy says. “He’s getting some blood now.”

  Mom looks up at me and demands, “Jewels, where have you been? As though I don’t have enou—”

  I cut her off. “Come on. I got the car running. We’re getting Rex out of here.”

  “What? How?” Mom asks.

  “We’re flying him to Portland.”

  “On what, fairy wings?” Mom asks, looking up with huge tears streaming down her cheeks. “There is no way we can fly Rex anywhere.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  Father Donlevy says, “We’re getting him an ambulance. It has to come from Longview, though.”

  “Mom, come on! Everything’s ready!”

  “Jewels, what are you talkin’ about?” Mom asks, sounding agitated.

  I look at the woman at the reception desk and pull Mom down the hall. “Mr. Kaye is waiting at the hangar,” I whisper. “He’s getting the plane ready. And don’t give me ‘Jewels, honey, what plane?’ because you know what plane!”

  “But there is no plane, and even if there was, Tommy can’t fly it!”

  “Yes, he can! Mom, come on.”

  A light above Rex’s room flashes red and we can hear a buzzer ring. The doctor comes dashing down the hall and into Rex’s room.

  Mom follows them in, but the door closes on me.

  Father Donlevy puts his arm around my shoulder.

  “But everything’s ready. I got Mr. Kaye and everything,” I say, crying into Father Donlevy’s chest.

  Mom comes back out of the room. “I told the doctor to get him ready. He most likely won’t last the day without surgery. Jewels, I don’t know what in heaven’s name you and Tommy have cooked up but, we’ll do it!”

  The doctors fix Rex up on a stretcher and strap him in. The blood in the bottle hanging by his head is gone and they put another bottle on a rack with something else flowing into Rex’s hand. They tell Father Donlevy what to do with it and hand Mom the X-rays and file, then we’re off. The doctor has called ahead to Multnomah County Hospital so a surgeon will be on call.

  “Where’re we going?” Rex mutters up at me in the back of the wagon.

  “We’re flying you to Portland.”

  “Oh,” he sort of nods, then gives a little smile. “Bet we get shot down.”

  “Don’t be stupid. No one’s shooting us down. Why would they do that?”

  “You never read the papers, do you?” he says, eyes closed.

  “Don’t let him talk! He needs to save his strength,” Mom says from the front seat. “You’re goin’ to be fine, Rex. We are gettin’ you to Portland. You just rest.”

  Rex gives me a slight glance. “No one’s supposed to be flying now. They’ll shoot us down. You wait and see. Are there parachutes in this thing?”

  I know he isn’t in his right mind. He thinks we’re already flying. “Yes, we have parachutes. Now do like Mom says and shut up,” I whisper down to him, tucking the blanket around his shoulders.

  “You’re getting pretty bossy in your old age, Shorty,” he says, drifting off again.

  Mom gasps when she sees the airplane on the landing strip. “That beautiful Twin Beech. He told me he sold her years ago to pay for Rex’s knee surgery,” she mutters. “But look at her—like new.”

  Mr. Kaye and Father Donlevy carefully pull Rex’s stretcher out of the back of the station wagon once we’ve come to a stop. Mom grabs the bottle and walks alongside, holding the line and the bottle high.

  “I cleared the cargo hatch for him. Should be plenty of room,” Mr. Kaye says.

  We all help to lift the stretcher up and through the plane’s back door. It looks a lot smaller out here on the runway than it did in the hangar. We set Rex down and I see Mom and Mr. Kaye catch each other’s eyes. There’s one of those ever so brief moments of something—I don’t know—some adult kind of spark maybe, that seems to zap between them.

  “You up to this?” she asks him.

  “Are you?”

  “I’m game,” Mom says.

  Mr. Kaye goes to check the plane’s engine. And then I notice Mom climbing into one of the pilot’s seats.

  When Mr. Kaye climbs back onboard, she takes his hand and says, “I’m scared. It’s been so long.”

  “Like riding a bike. You never forget. Come on. You used to be one of the best.”

  “You were no slouch,” she says, looking over to him.

  I touch Mom’s shoulder. She grabs my hand, squeezes it, and says, “Don’t you worry, honey. Everything’s goin’ to be just fine.”

  “I’d like to come,” Father Donlevy says up to the cockpit.

  “No, we don’t have a full tank,” Mr. Kaye says. “We need as light a load as we can get.”

  Mom starts one engine first, then the other. The plane makes a huge noise and I sure hope that’s normal.

  “I’ll pray for you,” Father Donlevy says, climbing out of the plane.

  “You can do more than that,” Mr. Kaye says, indicating the road. Sheriff Hillary’s squad car has just sped up. “You can run a little interference.”

  “Leave it to me,” he says. Then he pulls a silver necklace over his head and hands it to me. “Here, give this to Rex.”

  Mr. Kaye pulls the side door closed. Father Donlevy gives us the sign of the cross as he steps away, his black robe whipping in the wind of the propellers.

  I wave back as the plane bumps down the runway. Mr. Kaye gets me strapped into a seat next to Rex and he joins Mom in the cockpit. I look down at the necklace in my hand. ST. CHRISTOPHER PROTECT Us it reads. I don’t care who St. Christopher is or how he can protect us, but we need all the help we can get, so I tuck it under Rex’s pillow.

  The plane engines are roaring an
d I can’t hear what Mom and Mr. Kaye are saying as they point to gauges and flip switches. Probably just as well. I look down at Rex, then back out the window where Father Donlevy stands, gesturing to the McAloon boys, the mayor, and Sheriff Hillary. I see him point up to us, now over the hillside and almost gone. I figure I’m in so deep, not even St. Christopher can pull me out, let alone Mom and Mr. Kaye. But I don’t care. Alls I care about is getting Rex out of the fix he’s in.

  I catch Mr. Kaye signaling to me. “Hang on to that IV bottle,” he calls back. “This might get a bit rough.” Then, to Mom, he says, “Easy, Alice! Remember that sticky rudder? Easy!”

  I can tell by the way the IV bottle moves that we are pointing toward the sky. I steady it with one hand and hold on to my seat belt with the other.

  I admit it. I’m scared to death. If my measly, miserable twelve years of life flashes before me right now, I will not be surprised. And I didn’t even get to finish pooooo-berty!

  Higher, higher. Shake! My ears pop and the plane makes a lot of noise and it seems every little creak and groan echoes back here.

  I finally dare to look out the window again. She’s done it! Good ol’ Malice Alice! Mom! Mrs. Stokes, the goodtime barfly, has flown us high into the air! And she’s keeping us up here! I look down at Rex, sleeping through all this excitement. “You’re going to be mad as snakes you missed this!” I whisper to him.

  We have leveled off and the plane now sounds like it’s purring, not growling. “Can I get out of this now?” I call up to the cockpit, tugging at my seat belt.

  “Okay, but just to that bulkhead,” Mr. Kaye calls back. Both he and Mom have headsets on. We’re heading east and there’s the Columbia River right below us. I’m still petrified, but it’s sort of neat. I can see the shadow of the plane kissing the tops of the trees.

  I creep up to the bulkhead and tap Mom on the shoulder. “You going to tell me about all this?” I say, pointing to the controls.

  “Um, I’m a bit busy right now,” Mom says, keeping her eyes straight ahead.