Becca

“Bertram don’t you ever say that again.”

  “Mom, that’s what it is. It’s always that.”

  “Honey, please.” The hurt came through in her voice.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. Look Becca is coming here to pick me up after work, so I’ll be home late.”

  “Does her father know she’s picking you up?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Be careful, Bertram.” She paused. “That sergeant called you. He said you were going to see him Wednesday. Why?”

  “To talk about my options. There’s a customer coming in. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you when you get home. Please be careful, okay?”

  “Stop worrying. Bye, Mom.”

  He hung up as the car turned into the station. He had a sinking feeling when he saw it was Becca’s father, who drove past the pumps and parked at the building. Bert stepped out of the building as Becca’s father got out of the car.

  “Do you remember me?” Bill asked.

  “Sure,” Bert said casually.

  “You’re Bertram. You said my daughter talked to someone named Josh. But I called this number”—he held up a piece of paper and Bert recognized that it was the one on which Becca had written his number—“and the lady said there wasn’t anyone named Josh who lived there, but that she had a son named Bertram who did. That’s you.”

  “Yes.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? No, never mind. I know why. You knew I wouldn’t approve that you’re seeing my daughter.”

  “Not really.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m not seeing her. She has a boyfriend—Greg.”

  “She has your phone number.”

  “A lot of girls have my phone number.”

  “Are they all white girls?”

  Bert felt his face grow warm with anger. “No, she’s the only one.”

  Bill pointed his finger at Bert, almost touching his forehead. His eyes narrowed and his face tightened. “Listen, young man, I don’t want you to see her, do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad we have an understanding.”

  “We do.” Bert turned his back on the man and started for the building.

  “Wait a minute,” Bill said harshly, “you can’t just walk away.”

  Bert turned. “Yes, I can. I understood what you said. What else is there to say?”

  “She’s not your type.”

  Bert stopped and turned. “She’s not my type? You’re right. She’s way out of my league. She’s too good for me.”

  “You’re being sarcastic.”

  “Yes. Actually, she’s just right for me, sir. We’re salt and pepper; apple pie and ice cream.”

  “Stay away from her.” He crumbled up the paper and tossed it to the ground, and stood defiantly over it as if expecting Bert to protest.

  Bert merely stared at him and then once again turned his back on him. He went inside the building, fully expecting the man to follow him. Instead, Becca’s father got back into his car and drove away.

  X

  “Where are you going, Becca?” Mary asked.

  “Out.”

  “You just came back.”

  “I know, but I have to go somewhere.”

  “Didn’t Greg just go home? Where are you going?”

  “Mom, please.”

  “Who is this boy you’re seeing?”

  “What boy?”

  “Please don’t lie to me, honey. I am trying to help you.”

  “He’s a friend, Mom.”

  “You’re kidding yourself, honey.” Mary put her arms around her. “I see it in your face, honey, and what I see is that you and Greg are finished.”

  “Yes.” Becca nodded and stifled a sob.

  “Because of this other boy?”

  “No. Josh has nothing to do with Greg and me splitting up. Greg’s going to California.”

  “But that’s not why you’re splitting up either, is it?”

  She shook her head and sighed. “No.”

  “Then what is the reason?”

  “I just can say we’re not right for each other.”

  “Not right for each other? Why? What happened?”

  “Nothing, Mom. And that’s why we’re not right for each other.” She kissed her mother’s cheek and patted her hand. “I’ll be back—I won’t be too late. But, I have to go.”

  Mary kissed her forehead. “We have to be at the hospital by nine AM. I will try to explain this to your father. He’s just—just so concerned about your future because of what happened with Alex, you know.”

  “I know. But he doesn’t have to punish me every day for it. And he had better never touch me again, Mom. I don’t have to take it and I won’t. Tell him that.”

  “I have, honey.”

  Becca went out to her car and as she pulled away from the curb, she saw her father’s car turning onto the street. She watched in her rearview mirror to see if he was following her, but he turned into the driveway.

  She pulled into the restaurant lot a little after eleven. Bert was only one of a half dozen customers in the place.

  “Hello,” Becca asked when she sat down opposite him in the booth.

  “Hi.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your father stopped by to see me.”

  “Oh my God. How did he know to see you?”

  “He found my phone number and called my house.”

  “Crap,” Becca said slapping the table with the palm of her hand. “What did he want?”

  “He told me to stop seeing you.”

  “Are you seeing me?”

  “Even though I’ve seen quite a bit of you recently, it’s not like we’re really seeing each other, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “That’s what I figured. So I ignored him.”

  “What if we were seeing each other?”

  “I’d still ignore him.”

  Becca smiled at the waitress who brought a menu. She said, “Just a Coke, thank you.” She said to Bert, “You look like a horse.”

  “What?”

  She smiled. “A long face.”

  He allowed a smile. “Oh, yeah.”

  “So—why?”

  “First,” he said counting off on his fingers, “there’s your father who warned me to stay away from you—”

  “He won’t do anything.”

  “He was pretty convincing.”

  “He only hits girls.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. And you are going to stay away from me, so what’s the concern there? Okay, what’s number two?”

  “Second, I’m going to see the recruiter tomorrow about enlisting, and I haven’t told my mom yet. Third—”

  “You’re enlisting tomorrow?”

  “No. I’m talking to him about it.”

  Looking into her Coke she asked, “Number three?”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere right now.”

  “Well don’t.”

  He shook his head. “Have to.” He touched another finger.

  “Oh, now there’re four things giving you that look?”

  “Yes. And number four is you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you, Becca. I’ll miss you.”

  Her eyes teared and she blinked. “You’re going to miss me? Please…don’t.” She shook her head.

  “Too late.”

  “Josh…that’s not going to help things.”

  “Missing you?”

  She nodded. “It’ll just make things worse.”

  “And I’m worried about your…you know—your cancer.”

  “So that’s five reasons. I didn’t know you cared.” She picked up her purse. “I want to go somewhere.” Without waiting for his answer, she stood up and started for the door. Bert dropped some money on the table and followed her. He caught up with her outside, noticing how she limped along, trying to pr
etend nothing was wrong.

  Becca started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. In a few minutes, they were in front of Bert’s house.

  “You brought me home?” he asked.

  “Sure, is there a problem with that?”

  “No. I thought you wanted to go somewhere.”

  “I did. But I thought sitting here would be nicer than the hatchet man.”

  “And safer.”

  She wiggled a finger at him. “You got that right, buckaroo.”

  The light was on in the living room as usual and when they mounted the porch stairs, the door opened. Carol stood watching them, silhouetted by the light behind her.

  “Hello, Becca,” she said.

  “Hi, Carol. Look who I found.”

  Carol came out onto the porch and hugged Becca. She said, “Your father called here before and he wanted to talk to Josh. Bertram’s explained to me your little joke. Your father’s upset. Is there a problem?”

  “Yes,” Becca said, “my father is a racist.”

  Becca’s candidness surprised Carol. “Oh, I see.”

  “Mom,” Bert said, “I told you—it’s the same here as it was in town.”

  “It’s worse,” Carol said. “There you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

  Bert and Becca exchanged looks. Bert said, “Oh we’re not—”

  Carol held up her hand. “SShh. Yes you are. You kids are adorable together.”

  Bert blushed, and Becca smiled demurely.

  Bert said, “I’ve got to tell you something.” He put his hands on Carol’s shoulders.

  “What is it?”

  “Mom, you know I’ve been drafted, well Sergeant James says if I enlist there’s a chance I won’t go to Vietnam.”

  “So are you telling me that you’re enlisting?”

  “I have to consider it.”

  Carol’s eyes watered. “No, Bertram. No. Don’t do it.”

  “I’m drafted; I’m leaving anyway in three weeks.”

  Carol looked at Becca, who reached out and took her hand. “And things were just going so good for you two.” She shook her head, excused herself, and went back inside.

  “Well, I screwed that up,” Bert said.

  Becca started pushing the glider back and forth with her foot. “You know, Josh…I’m upset you’re leaving also. I’m enjoying us—you know what I mean…and I need you.”

  Her words stunned him. “No one’s ever needed me before.”

  “Well, don’t let your head swell to big so you can’t put a helmet on…but, yeah, I do.” She heaved a huge sigh and leaned back on the glider, resting her head on the pillow. “I’m scared, Josh,” she said. “I’m really scared. What if they take my leg? Don’t look so shocked. It’s got this thing in it. This thing might spread and then it could kill me.”

  “Don’t talk about that.”

  “My leg?”

  “Death.”

  “Oh, yeah. I guess it’s way too early to talk about that, huh.”

  “It won’t spread.”

  “Please be right,” she said and slid against him and put her arms around him and buried her face against him. Her embrace was at once fierce and gentle.

  He put his arms around her and they remained like that for a couple of minutes before Becca spoke. “What am I going to do?” she asked.

  “You are going to get better.”

  “Promise me.” She looked up at him. The light from the living room window settled in her eyes.

  “You’re going to be all right.”

  “Tomorrow night, can you come to the hospital to see me? I’ll be in Allegheny General. You know where it is, right?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “I don’t know when visiting hours are but you can call. I’ve told my mom and my father not to bother coming in to see me tomorrow evening. I mean, they’re going to be with me the whole time I’m getting the procedure done. And—unless it’s really bad, I don’t expect them to want to stick around in the evening.” She yawned. “I hate to say this, but I’m exhausted. Mind if I go now?”

  “No, you’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

  “What a cliché that was. ‘A big day’. Sounds like it’s something to look forward to.” She giggled and took his hand to help her up and they walked to her car hand in hand.

  “Josh,” Becca said as she sat down in the driver’s seat, “we are adorable.” She smiled, shut the door, and waved. Then, as she started the car, she blew him a kiss and winked.

  XI

  “You tell me right now what you were doing with that boy!” Bill said, stabbing the air in front of Becca with his pipe stem. Her mother stood beside her.

  “Talking,” Becca said.

  “I told him to stay away from you! However, it appears you can’t stay away from him! He’s the wrong kind, Becky.”

  “What—he’s the wrong size, shape, color?”

  “Yes, stick with your own kind.”

  Becca burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that’s from West Side Story!”

  “Don’t you make fun of me!” He raised his hand and Becca stood defiantly.

  “Bill!” Mary screamed and went to her husband. “Stop this!”

  “She hasn’t learned, Mary. She hasn’t learned a goddamned thing! I knew there was something going on! You’re dumping Greg because he’s not dark enough for you!”

  “Bill!” Mary shouted.

  Becca said, “Greg doesn’t like women. But he’s still more of a man than you are. And if it makes you feel like a man to hit me—do it, and I’ll go straight to the police.”

  Mary started to speak, but Becca shushed her. “Mom, please. I’m not afraid.” She rubbed her leg. The pain had fared up again.

  “Don’t threaten me,” Bill said to Becca.

  “No, Dad. I just made a promise.”

  “Well, young lady, it’s over anyway. I saw this boy of yours and you should have heard him when I confronted him. He didn’t even stand up to me and agreed to stop seeing you.”

  “He did, did he?” Becca smiled and then began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?

  “Josh has been drafted. He didn’t agree because he was afraid of you. He agreed because he’s not going to be around.” She wiped her tears.

  Bill jammed the pipe into his mouth with an audible clamping down of his teeth. He glared at her, his eyes twitching.

  “I’m going to see Josh before he goes away. You won’t stop me.” She started for the stairs and turned. “And maybe he’ll die over there in Vietnam too. But don’t worry; I won’t make the same mistake with him that I made with Alex!”

  “There will be another one to come along.”

  “No! That’s where you’re wrong! There won’t be another one like him. Not like Josh!” She ran up the stairs, stopping at the top and grabbing her leg.

  Seven

  I

  “I don’t want to leave in a week,” Bert said.

  “Well, to get the training you wanted you’ll have to leave then, Bertram,” Sergeant James said. “You’ll have to take the physical tomorrow and then leave next Friday. Why can’t you leave in a week?”

  “Becca.”

  “Oh, Christ, a girl. I should have known. Your girl doesn’t want you to leave, is that it? Did you tell her that you’re leaving anyway? Whether you enlist or report for the draft you’re out of here.”

  “I can’t leave now.”

  “So you’re not going to enlist?”

  Bert stood up. “Not now. Sorry.”

  “What difference does it make—next week or three weeks?”

  “I just can’t go right now.”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  Bert said, “Maybe. But it’s one I have to make.”

  II

  “Now, Rebecca,” Doctor London said, “it’s not too late. I can have an anesthesiologist administer you something that will put you under.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  Dr. London smiled.
“Okay, I’m going to administer the local now. You’ll feel a pinch.”

  “Ow! That wasn’t a pinch. That hurt.”

  Dr. London said, “We don’t actually want to say it hurts, Rebecca.”

  “God, I can imagine what I’d feel if you said ‘this is going to hurt.’”

  “I wouldn’t have kept you awake for something like that.”

  “I should hope not.”

  “You have a great attitude.”

  “I do? I don’t know why. Actually, I’m pissed off. Sorry, doc. This thing is really screwing up my life, but I guess my life would be pretty much screwed up even if I didn’t have cancer.”

  “I can’t imagine your life as being screwed up.”

  “I hide it well.”

  “Well, let me worry about this part of your life, Rebecca, maybe I can unscrew this part.”

  She chuckled. “You’re funny for a doctor.”

  “I try and add a little humor to make the patient feel more at ease.”

  “Hey, my leg is feeling cold and heavy.”

  “That’s the medication.”

  “It feels weird—like it’s there but it’s not.”

  “Then so far I’ve done well. I’m going to give you another injection, Rebecca.”

  “Another one? Am I going to feel a pinch, doc? Or is this one that I should be knocked out for?”

  “Did you feel it?”

  “Huh?”

  “I already gave it to you.”

  “Oh. Oh, hey, groovy—didn’t feel anything.”

  “That’s good.”

  Becca, lying on the table, stared up at the light fixture on the ceiling. A partition had been set above her stomach so that she could not see what the doctor was doing. Her mother sat in a chair in the corner, watching her.

  “Mrs. Smith,” Dr. London said, “I suggest you join your husband in the waiting room now. This should not take long.”

  Mary bent over, kissed Becca’s forehead and clasped her hand briefly. “I love you, honey.”

  “If you see them carrying something out that looks like a leg, make sure it’s the right leg and not the left one,” Becca said.

  “Oh, please, Miss Smith,” Dr. London said, “Nothing is leaving this room without you attached.”

  Becca laughed as her mother kissed her again and left the room.

  “I’m touching your leg, Rebecca, do you feel that?” Dr. London asked.

  “No,” Becca said. She stared up at the ceiling tiles.

  “I’m touching you with a needle, do you feel that?” Dr. London asked after a minute