by Diane Moody
“We’re praying for her, honey. We’re all praying for her. In the meantime, we’ll try to be patient ourselves and just take it one day at a time. That’s all we can do.”
They rocked in silence for a few moments. Then, snapping the final bean, she set the pot on the table and brushed off her hands. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Would it be all right with you if I wrote a letter to Anya? I thought perhaps it might help her get to know us a little better so we won’t seem like such strangers when she arrives.”
“I think that would be terrific, Mom. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
“Good. If nothing else, it might give her something else to look forward to while she waits … letters from her new family. I want her to know how much we’re looking forward to meeting her and getting to know her; how much we’ve been praying for her. That sort of thing.”
“I’m not sure about the praying part. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re praying for her. Millie and Joey told me they’re praying too. But Anya … well, she’s a bit shaky on the subject of God. Though come to think of it, in her last letter she did tell me to ask you to pray. Obviously, I forgot.”
“She did?”
“Yes. Something to the effect of knowing you pray a lot, so she wondered if you’d pray for her to come here as soon as possible.”
“Well, that sounds like she still believes in prayer, right?”
He scratched his eyebrow. “Based on some of our conversations, I’m thinking it’s more a matter of her believing that you can pray because she can’t.”
“She’s still struggling with her faith?”
“Big time. The war pretty much shattered what faith she did have. And not just because of everyone she lost, but all the unspeakable things she witnessed. Things she had to do just to survive. She basically gave up on God, and who could blame her after all that? Still, I can see some changes. Little glimmers of hope that she’s trying to find her way back to God.”
“That’s good, son. I’m glad to hear it. And with that in mind, I promise I’ll be sensitive when I write. Mostly, I want her to know how welcome she is into our family. We’ve got to start somewhere, and the way I see it, everyone likes to be cherished and made to feel welcome.”
Danny reached over and placed his hand over hers. “You’re the best, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I can’t thank you enough for caring about her. I know it had to be hard, getting my telegram from a foreign country the day before I married someone you’d never met.”
“Honey, Anya’s not a stranger. My goodness, you’ve known her since you were still in high school.”
“Yeah, but you’ve never met her.”
“Yes, but I carried every one of her letters up to your room when they came, and you shared parts of them with me over the years. Anya and I may not have met, but I feel like I’ve known her for years.” She squeezed his hand. “I couldn’t be happier for the two of you.”
He rose from the rocker. “One day at a time, huh?”
“That’s right. One day at a time.”
He gave her a hand to help her up. “I was thinking about walking over to Mrs. Zankowski’s house and seeing what she has to say about me going back to school. I talked to Joey the other day about the GI Bill. It’s supposed to help veterans financially now that we’re home, including college tuition, down payments on homes, that sort of thing. He suggested talking to Mrs. Z and seeing what kind of courses I should take and what she thinks about the Northwestern Campus here in Chicago. Good idea?”
“I think that’s a great idea. Lara is such a pleasure. I’ve enjoyed getting to know her better since Millie and Joey married.” She picked up the bowl of beans and the paper bag of snapped ends and made her way to the screen door.
Danny and Sophie followed her inside. “I never dreamed my history teacher would end up being a relative. Joey says she’s been a real godsend to Millie and him, especially since Millie got pregnant.”
“Oh, she has. With Millie’s folks still living in Boston, Lara has been a tremendous help to Millie and Joey—to all of us, in fact. You go have a chat with her, and tell her I said hello. I’ll go upstairs and check on Millie. Be back in time for supper, all right?”
“Sure thing, Mom. C’mon, Sophie. Let’s take a walk.”
“Hello, Mrs. Smithson,” Danny said as he passed his neighbor’s house. When he was younger, he mowed her grass and shoveled snow for her. “I see someone’s taking real good care of your lawn. Looks good.”
“Well, hello there, Danny.” She made her way down the porch steps and extended her hand. “I heard you were back from the war. I’m glad to see you made it home all in one piece.”
He shook her hand, and noted the slightest hesitation as she stepped back and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, I’m glad to be home in one piece, I assure you.”
“I see Sophie has welcomed you home properly.”
He reached down to pat the beagle’s head. “Yes, ma’am, she certainly has. How’s Mr. Smithson doing these days?”
“Oh, he’s as ornery as ever, but otherwise doing just fine.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” He tried to think of something else to say and went blank. “Well, it was nice to see you—”
“Danny, there’s something you need to know, and I might as well just say it. It’s why I didn’t come to your welcome home party the other day. The thing is, I didn’t buy any war bonds.” She straightened her back and looked him straight in the eye. “Fact is, I don’t believe in war. Never have. I think it’s a crying shame Mr. Roosevelt sent all you boys over to fight someone else’s war, and even though he’s dead and gone now, I think he still has blood on his hands for every soldier and sailor who died. And not just them, but all the others who came home maimed for life. You and your brother Joey are the lucky ones, but you never should’ve been sent to fight this ridiculous war in the first place.”
Danny froze. She’d never been the friendliest neighbor, but he couldn’t understand why she felt the need to say such a thing. Then, as his thoughts took flight, he said, “Look, Mrs. Smithson, I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but it’s because of guys like me and Joey that you’re able to live in a country free from dictators like Hitler or Hirohito. It makes no difference to me if you did or didn’t buy any war bonds, but the next time you encounter a veteran, take my advice. Skip the pacifist speech and tell him thanks. If not for us, you’d be sprechen sie Deutsch.”
She bristled, sputtering a response as he tugged on Sophie’s leash. As he walked away, he looked back over his shoulder. “Guten Tag, Frau Smithson.”
Danny was still trying to calm his nerves when he turned to walk up the Zankowski’s sidewalk. He knocked on the door and blew out a final grunt of disgust just before it opened.
“Danny!” she cried, opening her arms for a hug. “Oh Danny, I’m so glad to see you! How are you?”
“I’m good, Mrs. Z. How are you?”
“Fabulous, now that you’re here! Come in, come in!” She stepped aside to let him enter.
“Oh.” He looked down at Sophie. “Is it okay if I tie her up here on your porch?”
“Good heavens, no. Bring her in!” She gave the dog a good scratch beneath behind her ears. “Sophie and I are good friends, aren’t we girl?”
“You are?”
“Well, sure we are. I’m down at your house all the time visiting Millie and Joey and your parents.”
“That’s right. I keep forgetting we’re family now. Am I supposed to call you Auntie Lara now?”
“Don’t be silly. Just call me Lara. I’m not your teacher anymore, and besides—you’re all grown up now. And handsome as any movie star! Just look at you!”
“I doubt it, but that’s kind of you to say.”
“I was just about to call and see if I could come pay you a visit, so this is perfect timing. Come on back to the kitchen and let’s have some lemonade.”
Mo
ments later, they were sitting at the kitchen table.
“I’m so sorry we had to miss your welcome home party. I was so disappointed not to be there, but we were up in Boston visiting my sister Gwen, Millie’s mother. We just got home late last night.”
“No problem. Millie told me you were out of town.”
They chatted for almost an hour as Danny answered all kinds of questions about the war, his experience bailing out over Holland, and all about Anya. Lara caught him up on news of friends he’d gone to school with, and of course, the excitement of Millie and Joey’s baby on the way.
Lara leaned back in her chair and folded her arms with a huge smile fixed on her face. “Honestly, Danny, I could sit here and grin at you all day long. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you’re home and all in one piece.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I appreciate that. Too bad not everyone feels that way.”
“Really? Why do you say that?”
He told her about his brief conversation with Mrs. Smithson and his rebuke to her comments about the war.
“You said that?” Her eyes widened with her smile. “You said goodbye to her in German?”
“Yes, ma’am I did. I know a few other German words I could have added, but decided I better leave before I said something worse.”
“That old battle-ax. I’ve had a few similar conversations with her until I realized she’s too stubborn and bull-headed and not worth wasting my energy on. I’m so sorry you had to hear all that, but I hope you know how proud of you all the rest of us are. I guess you noticed we’re all flying our flags for you and all the other American boys who fought for us.”
“I saw that. Mom wrote when I first got to England to tell me about all the flags up and down the street. Sure helped knowing folks back here were thinking of me. And by the way, thanks for your letters. Mail call was a big, big deal on base, and I sure loved hearing my name called when I had a letter.”
“It was my pleasure, Danny. So your mother mentioned you’re planning to finish college. Is that right?”
“That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Of course, who knows what will happen in the next couple of months. I’m still on leave with orders to report for duty on the eighteenth of August at Sioux Falls, South Dakota. For all I know, they could send us to the Pacific to help fight that war. So I can’t register for classes yet, but hopefully our guys will take care of the Japs, and we can all get on with our lives.”
“Oh Danny, I hadn’t even thought about them sending you to the Pacific. I’m going to pray that doesn’t happen. Can’t imagine having to see you off again.”
“No kidding. But I’ve still got to think ahead, especially now that I’m married. And with the promises they’re making about the GI Bill giving us a free ride to college, I’d be a fool not to finish school now.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Have you thought about what you’ll study?”
“I want to teach history like you. I’ve told you before that you were my favorite teacher.”
She grinned again. “Yes, but I never get tired of hearing it!”
“Well, it’s true. And I want to make history come alive like you always did in class. I still remember all those historical characters you played; showing up in costume and staying in character through the entire class time. It made such a powerful impression on me, and I think it’s why I have such a passion for history.”
“I still love surprising my students like that. But I should probably let you in on a little secret.”
“What’s that?”
“The idea wasn’t original. I stole it from my favorite teacher, Mr. Stonewall. Isn’t that a great name for a history professor? The first time he walked into class dressed as Benjamin Franklin, we all laughed. But he never broke character, and taught us things about Franklin that I still remember to this day. He would show up in character once a week, though we never knew when. Which meant we never wanted to skip class for fear of missing out, of course. Genius. The man was pure genius. And that’s when I caught the passion. That’s when I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to teach American history and pass along that same passion to my students just like Professor Stonewall.”
“Apparently, his legacy lives on, doesn’t it? So tell me. Where do you think I should go? I’m thinking of Northwestern’s Chicago campus. Isn’t that where you went?”
They’d been talking for another half hour when the telephone rang. Lara excused herself and stepped into the hall to answer it.
“What?! Really?” she cried. “Danny, it’s your mother. She says they’re heading to the hospital. Millie’s in labor!”
16
13 July 1945
Chicago, Illinois
Dear Anya,
Happy news from America! Millie gave birth to a beautiful baby boy last night! She was in labor almost ten hours, but delivered the little guy just before midnight. He weighed in at eight pounds and two ounces, and has a thick head of hair the same auburn shade as Millie’s. He’s the cutest little thing you ever saw. Joey got to hold him for a couple of minutes before he was whisked off to the nursery, and you’ve never seen such a proud dad. He got all choked up when the nurse placed him in his arms, and naturally, the rest of us got a little misty-eyed as well.
They named him Joseph James McClain, and they plan to call him Jimmy after Joey’s best friend on the USS Oklahoma. Jimmy Linden didn’t survive the attack on Pearl, and Joey wanted to honor his memory. Millie and Jimmy will stay in the hospital for the rest of the week.
When I got up this morning, I heard Dad working down in the basement, so I grabbed a cup of coffee and went downstairs. He was startled to see me, but glad I wasn’t Joey since he was putting the final touches on a cradle he’d made for the baby. It’s so beautiful, Anya, and something I never expected from Dad. We talked for a while as he worked, then he finally pulled up a stool and took a break. We haven’t had a chance to talk one-on-one since I’ve been back. Or, should I say, he hasn’t made himself available to me that way. He’s still such an odd duck, and chances are I’ll never really understand him or how his mind works. But as we talked, I realized it was the first time I ever felt like he respected me as a man, not just his son. That may not make much sense to you, but it meant the world to me. He asked a lot of questions about the day-to-day routine while I was stationed in Framlingham, and what it was like to fly a B-17 above enemy territory.
I guess we’d been talking about half an hour or so when it occurred to me to ask him about his service in World War I. At first, he locked his jaw and shook his head. “Nothing to talk about,” he said. But I pressed him on it. It took him a while, but then he told me.
He said he hated his father. Would have done anything to leave home. And when Woodrow Wilson got America in the First World War, he saw his chance. He enlisted the next day. He said the only friend he ever had was a kid in his unit from Idaho; a wiry little guy they nicknamed Spider. Dad felt like it was his job to keep Spider’s back, look after him. Next thing he knew, he was in a mud-soaked trench in France begging God to keep Spider alive … Dad’s hands were holding the kid’s intestines together; waiting for a medic who never came.
He swallowed hard, and it was a long time before he could speak again. When he did, he looked me in the eye and said there’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t think of Spider and the day he let him down. I started to say something, and he stopped me. Said I was never to speak of it again.
Anya, I know you understand more than I do how something like that changes a person. It explains so much to me, after all these years, to piece together why he’s always been so gruff and moody, never had any friends, never let anyone get close to him. Sure made me look at him in a different light.
Not sure if I should have shared that with you, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Enough of all that for now.
I was actually visiting Mrs. Zankowski when we got the call about Millie going into labor. Bef
ore the call, we had a good talk, and she gave me some valuable information regarding my return to school. If it’s all right with you, I’m going to proceed with enrolling at the Northwestern Campus here in Chicago. The way I see it, if the U.S. is willing to foot the tab for me to finish school through the GI Bill, I’d be ridiculously stupid not to take advantage of it. Especially since I can live at home and help out at the theater from time to time. I figured I’d at least get started, then once you come, we can sit down and discuss a plan.
Don’t mind me … I guess I’m a little carried away right now, thinking about our future. Seeing little Jimmy melted something inside me, and I’m missing you so much. To think that one day you and I might have a baby of our own … wow.
I’m sure you’ll be delighted to hear (ha ha) that the Cubs are having a great season so far! We’re 43 wins, 29 losses, with one tie game—best record we’ve had in years. I keep thinking this could be the year we go all the way. One more reason to get you home soon so you can go to Wrigley with me and cheer for our Cubs!
I sure hope to hear from you soon. I’m so hungry for news from Framlingham. Has my buddy Cosmos been by the pub again? Oh! That reminds me—I can’t wait to try some of those dishes you and Sophie have been cooking up. Mom will be thrilled to have some help in the kitchen!
All for now. Write soon.
Love,
Danny
1 August 1945
“There’s a sight you don’t see every day!” Danny hollered after rounding the corner onto his street late on Wednesday afternoon. Coming toward him on the sidewalk, Millie walked beside Joey, who was pushing Jimmy in the stroller. Leading the procession was Sophie, leashed to the stroller’s front rail.
Danny chuckled. “Will you look at that strut? She must think she’s the grand marshal of the St. Patrick’s parade. Don’t you, Sophie girl?”
At the sound of her name, Sophie finally noticed him ahead and bolted in his direction with a round of excited barks.
“Hold on there, girl!” Joey shouted, his hands firmly on the stroller’s handle. The halt stopped the beagle in her tracks with a yelp. “You know better than that, Sophie.”