by Sarah Sundin
“You lunkhead.” Jack whapped Ray on the back of the head. “What do you mean getting shot down, letting us think you were dead?”
Ray whapped him back. “Who’s the lunkhead? Why didn’t you visit me in the hospital? They were about to execute me.”
Jack and Walt eased back and frowned. “Sorry,” Jack said. “We read your statement. It didn’t sound like you. I can’t believe you did that stuff.”
“Neither can I.”
“Wow.” Walt’s jaw dropped. “So that manual is real?”
“It got me here.”
“You flew a jet. From the manual.”
“And a training film.”
Jack and Walt stared at Ray, and then Jack erupted in a laugh. “Walt beat me to the altar, and you beat me in the adventure department. What’s this family coming to?”
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” The judge tapped Ray on the shoulder. “Captain Novak, a dozen intelligence goons want to interrogate you. I told them you boys need time together first. Would you like to sit in my chambers? I’ll have food brought in.”
“Food.” The word thumped into the hollow pit of Ray’s stomach. “Yes, please.”
The judge’s face twisted. “Sorry to put you through that, young man. Intelligence runs this show.”
“I understand.” Ray scanned the courtroom for Major Siegel, but he was no longer present. Not the type to apologize.
The judge led them into his office. “I’ll stand guard and I won’t let in a soul unless he bears food.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ray flopped into a wooden chair in front of the desk, exhausted. He was going to live. He was going home. He was going to eat. “How are Mom and Dad? Grandma and Grandpa?”
Walt sat on the metal desk, his face serious. “They’re . . . they’re grieving. They’re strong, you know, but it’s tough on them, on all of us. We thought you were dead, for heaven’s sake.”
“When they get this news, they’ll be as good as new.” Jack leaned back against the wall, ankles crossed.
Heaviness drifted down in Ray’s chest. Grief aged people irreversibly.
“The baby’s helped a bit.” Walt flipped open his wallet and pulled out a snapshot. “It’s a boy. Francis Raymond—Frankie. Frank for my friend who died, Raymond for—for you. But you’re not dead. Wow.”
Ray gazed at the little black-and-white face. His nephew. “Have you seen him?”
“No.” Walt’s voice deepened. “He’s two months old now. Smiling, Allie says.”
“You’ll go home soon. We all will,” Jack said. “War’s almost over in Germany. Any day now. We flew our last strategic mission April 16, our last tactical mission April 25. No targets left.”
Walt’s feet tapped against the desk. “Say, that jet’s legitimate. We’ll ship her over to Wright-Patterson Army Air Base in Ohio, study her.”
“What a swell plane.” Jack turned to Ray, a hundred questions in his eyes.
Before discussing planes, Ray had one more inquiry. “How’s Helen?”
“Helen? She took it hard, Allie said.” Walt paused, a blank look on his face. “Uh-oh.”
“Oh boy.” Jack groaned.
Ray sat forward. “What is it? What’s the matter with Helen?”
Walt’s face scrunched up. “Nothing’s the matter. It’s . . . well, she’s getting married.”
“Married?” Ray whispered.
“No, got married. It was Mom’s birthday, April 28. Two days ago.”
“Victor Llewellyn,” Jack said.
Married? Two days ago? To Vic? Ray felt his blood draining away, as if he’d been riddled with bullets by the firing squad after all.
For months a tiny dream had hovered on hummingbird wings, a dream that Ray would return and make Helen his wife.
The wings stilled. It was never meant to be.
44
Antioch
Friday, May 4, 1945
Helen stood by the newspaper rack at the corner of Third and G, where the Ledger’s headlines read “250,000 Nazis Give Up in North Reich” and “Two German Armies Only Troops Left to Oppose Allied Arms.”
Mrs. Kramer passed and stared at the bandage on Helen’s cheek. She gave her a shocked look and a flustered “Good morning,” and ducked inside Della’s Dress Shop.
Just what Helen had waited for. She steadied herself on the newspaper rack. She’d talked this over with the Novaks and the Anellos and had prayed about it. Now she had to do it. “Lord, give me courage.”
With her chin high, she entered the store. The bells on the door jangled.
Mrs. Carlisle smiled. “Good morn—Helen! Oh my.” She scurried to the back curtain. “James, Helen is here.”
Mr. Carlisle barged out with an expression of restrained alarm. “How good to see you. Come to the back. I have something to show you.”
“No, thank you.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I’ll stand by the window where I can be seen.” Pastor Novak had offered to come along for protection, but Helen declined. She needed to stand up for herself.
He came to her with a fake smile. “Where have you been? I’ve looked all over for you. I’ve been worried about you.”
Although she faced the dragon, she refused to be the damsel in distress. “Why? Afraid I was seriously hurt when you beat me up?”
“Keep your voice down.” He grabbed her arm.
His touch seared. “Let go,” she said in a low voice with a pointed look toward Mrs. Kramer, who flipped through the rack of summer blouses.
He let go, but his fingers remained hooked like claws. “Don’t say such things in public.”
“Yes, let’s keep the family shame hidden—but only for Jay-Jay’s sake. That’s why you’ll drop the custody case today.”
His hands folded into fists.
Helen stepped back and glared at those fists. “Dr. Dozier examined me, and Officer Mandeville took a police report. I can charge you with assault.”
“What?” he said in a harsh whisper. “You have no right.”
“I have every right.”
“No one can dictate what I do in my family.”
“Legally I’m not family. I can charge you, but I won’t if you drop the custody case.”
His face grew as red as the welt on Helen’s cheek. “You think you can blackmail me?”
“It’s not blackmail. I’m protecting your family’s reputation. If the custody case goes to court, I’ll be sworn to tell the truth, and I will. I’ll testify how you beat your wife, how Jim beat me and you beat me, and how Jay-Jay would learn cruelty if he grew up in your house.”
A sneer. “Your word against mine. Who will believe crazy cripple Helen?”
She pulled herself tall and straight. “You’ve forgotten. There’s another witness, someone who grew up in your home and knows what happens there.”
Mr. Carlisle’s face went as white as Helen’s many scars. “She wouldn’t.”
“Dorothy’s already agreed. She doesn’t want Jay-Jay to turn out like you and Jim.”
He stared at her, chest heaving as if he could smite her with fire.
But she’d doused his flames, and she had one more bucketful of truth to throw at him. “Even if you won, even if you were awarded custody, your behavior would be exposed. That would be bad for business, especially a business that caters to women.” Helen inclined her head toward Mrs. Kramer. “Drop the case today.”
“Fine,” he spat out. “But when they lock you in the loony bin, I’ll get my grandson.”
The way she saw it, she had escaped the loony bin. “Since I no longer live with you, Jay-Jay and I will need our monthly living expenses, as you promised your son. I’ll take two months’ worth today.”
“Two?”
Helen held out one gloved hand. “For the medical and legal expenses you inflicted on me. Two months. Now.”
He stomped behind the cash register. “I don’t have that much.”
“Yes, you do. You always do.”
His gaze scorched her from
across the store. “Come and get it.”
“No, thank you. I prefer it over here by the window. Such lovely warm sunshine we’ve had lately. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Kramer?”
“Yes, lovely.” She glanced between Helen and Mr. Carlisle. Even if she hadn’t heard a word, tension crackled in the store. “A beautiful summer collection. I’ll be back.”
She headed for the door, but Helen stepped in her way. “It’s so nice to see you. How’s Evelyn? She’s a senior this year, isn’t she? Such a sweet girl.”
Mrs. Kramer beamed. “Thank you. She can be a silly thing, but aren’t all girls like that?”
“Yes, they are.” Helen beckoned with her fingers for the money. “Does she enjoy her job at El Campanil?”
“A little too much. Don’t you know Larry Parker works in the ticket office, and she can’t keep her eyes off him.”
A wad of bills landed in Helen’s hand, and she curled her fingers around it. “Make sure Evelyn gets to know him well before she gives him her heart. One needs to be very careful whom one marries.” She smiled at her former father-in-law. “Good day to you, Mr. Carlisle. And to you, Mrs. Kramer.”
Helen stepped outside, and her breath turned heavy and ragged. She stopped on the corner of Fourth and G to steady herself. She’d done it. She’d stood up to him and met her goal.
She stuffed the money in her handbag and counted it inside—twenty dollars less than she asked for, but a hundred dollars more than expected.
Enough to get her and Jay-Jay to Washington DC. She’d wait until Monday to be certain the case was dropped and to have a few more days to heal.
Helen continued on her way. She’d never see another penny from Jim’s life insurance, and she’d have to beg her parents for help, but Washington had plenty of jobs. The NAACP had found an apartment for Esther, which she’d offered to share with Helen and Jay-Jay.
Nursery care remained a concern, but Helen had called her parents the day before, and Mama thought one of the ladies from her church might help.
With long-distance calls restricted to five minutes, Helen hadn’t told them why she was coming, but as soon as she arrived in DC, she’d swallow her pride and tell them everything.
Helen glanced behind her, down G Street to the river. Pain tightened around her middle. She loved the river and the grassy hills and rugged Mount Diablo. She loved the buildings and the people and the tomato soup smell during canning season. She loved the bittersweet reminders of her childhood, her marriage, and her romance with Ray.
In a few days, she’d leave it all behind.
Over the Arctic Ocean
Sunday, May 6, 1945
Jack leaned forward in the bucket seat in the cabin of the C-54 cargo plane. “Okay, boys, let’s get the plan straight.”
Ray smiled. “Only you could turn a homecoming into a combat mission.”
“Dead right.” Jack held up one finger. “Tuesday morning, Allie meets us at the bus stop with the baby. She’s the only one who knows, and she thinks Walt’s the only one coming.”
Walt snuggled lower in his heavy flight jacket. “I wonder if she figured out my telegram: ‘ACCOMPANYING RARE EXOTIC BIRD HOME.’ She has to know it’s a jet. Wait till she hears how we got it.”
Ray pulled the blanket tighter around him. The cabin temperature hovered below freezing, and he didn’t have extra body weight for insulation, despite having gained another seven pounds the past week. At least the intelligence officers fed him well while they grilled him.
“Allie won’t blab because she’ll want time to neck with Walt. Only the Lord knows why.” Jack held up a second finger. “Walt and Allie go in the house first. Five minutes later, Ruth and I surprise them. Five minutes to meet Ruth, five to catch up, five to lay the groundwork for Lazarus. Ray waits on the porch until we open the door. Open it wide so Mom’s river of tears will have somewhere to flow. Sound good, boys?”
“Great,” Ray said. “Let’s synchronize our watches.”
Ruth Doherty came from the back of the plane with an armful of Thermoses. “Coffee for Jack and Walt, and broth for my patient, the only reason they let me work this route.”
“Thanks.” Ray never thought he’d want to taste broth again, but today he craved the combination of warmth and nutrition.
Ruth set hands on hips well padded by a flight suit. “Your plan sounds like The Three Stooges Come Home. You’ll mess this up like you messed things up for Ray. Didn’t I tell you I saw a man who looked like him at the airfield in Melun? Then intelligence said they had a man claiming to be Ray, and you didn’t put it together. Keep your plans on the air base, flyboy.”
Jack’s grin flipped up the corners of his mustache. “What about my plans to marry you?”
She smiled and shook her head at him. “You should have sent your parents a telegram.”
He reached for her with one hand and patted his lap with the other. “What would the telegram say? ‘RAY ALIVE STOP REALLY HE IS STOP SERIOUSLY STOP LONG STORY STOP.’ They wouldn’t know what to think, and we’ll get home faster than a letter would.”
Ruth ignored her fiancé’s lap invitation. “You’ll give your parents coronaries.”
“That’s why we’re bringing a nurse.”
She looked down at Ray. “You’re fine with this?”
“My idea. They won’t believe it until they see it.” Ray had another reason for not cabling—to allow Helen more time to settle in as a bride. The deeper into the honeymoon, the less she’d regret her marriage if she harbored any romantic feelings for him. He doubted that, considering how fast she’d fallen for Vic. He wrestled back his resentment. Vic would be a good husband and stepfather, and Ray needed to wish them well.
Too bad they wouldn’t be away on a wedding trip, but Vic belonged to the Navy. Hitler was dead and German soldiers surrendered in droves, but the war in the Pacific trudged along. The way things were going on Okinawa, the Japanese wouldn’t surrender easily, if ever.
His brothers laughed.
Ray blinked and brought his eyes back into focus.
“Finally get to see what makes that Messerschmitt tick,” Walt said. “Can’t wait to get to Ohio with my wife and son, and my personal jet expert.” He gave Ray a wink and a nudge.
Ray flicked a smile at him. Ohio lay a blessed far distance from home and from Helen.
“While you boys play with your little toy plane, I’ll be at the controls of a B-29 Superfortress,” Jack said. “Can you imagine 8800 horsepower?”
“Then off to the Pacific.” Ruth frowned and wrote on a clipboard.
“Marry me now, and I’ll get you stationed near me.”
“You pulled enough strings getting all three of you on this flight, getting me assigned to the same flight, and then ten-day furloughs. Pull any more strings and you’ll unravel the entire fabric of the Army Air Force.” Ruth sent Jack a sidelong glance and headed down the aisle. “I need to take vitals.”
Walt backhanded Jack’s arm. “You should have pulled those strings a few days earlier. I could have been home for my anniversary.”
Walt and Allie had married a year ago today. The day that propelled Ray into this adventure.
“I’m going to walk, try to warm up.” Ray stood and rearranged his blanket. If he’d known what the year would hold, he wouldn’t have made the same decision. And that would have been a mistake. Sure, he might have held on to the woman he loved, but as half a man, never knowing what he was capable of with God at his side.
The C-54’s four engines rumbled through his booted feet as he walked down the aisle past patients in seats, then men on litters stacked like four-tiered bunk beds.
At the rear of the plane, he leaned against the fuselage wall and gazed out the window. Jagged black peaks knifed through creamy glaciers. Greenland. Still so far from home.
Ray had begun to dread going home. He looked more like himself with a good haircut and an American uniform, and he sounded more like himself. But who was he now?
He’d
done things he never thought he would. Everyone at home would expect the same old Ray. Even his brothers, who knew the life-altering effects of war, didn’t completely understand.
“Hi there. How are you doing?” Ruth hugged the clipboard to her chest.
“Think I’m strong enough for this big emotional scene?”
“You are, but am I?”
“You’re not worried about meeting my folks, are you?”
She shrugged. “I shouldn’t be, but still—Chicago slum girl meets small-town pastor, wholesome wife, and society girl daughter-in-law.”
“They’ll love you. And Allie—she’s probably worried about meeting Jack’s gorgeous fiancée. She has a good heart. You’ll get along great.”
“I hope so.” She tilted her head and studied Ray. “How about you? You’re quieter than usual. Being alive again isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it?”
Ray turned, and his sigh fogged the window. “No, it isn’t.”
45
Antioch
Tuesday, May 8, 1945
Jay-Jay jumped up and down on the church lawn. “Victee!”
Helen smiled and led him by the hand up the church steps. Despite Jay-Jay’s enthusiasm, Antioch’s Victory in Europe Day would be subdued. The schools and most businesses remained open for V-E Day, and only the taverns had closed to prevent carousing.
Since the Japanese seemed determined to fight to the last man, celebration felt premature. Regardless, today Americans would thank the Lord for peace in Europe.
Mrs. Novak stood in the foyer, straightening piles of fliers. “Hello, you two.”
Jay-Jay hugged Mrs. Novak’s legs. “Hi, Gamma Nobak.”
She leaned down to hug him. “I like it when you call me that. You look so handsome in your suit.”
“Fank you.” He galloped back to Helen and grabbed her hand in both of his. He’d clung to her since the beating, and he hadn’t asked to see his Carlisle grandparents once.
“You’re early for the service,” Mrs. Novak said.
“On purpose. I don’t want to draw attention.”
She patted Helen’s arm. “Things are quieting down now that the case has been dropped.”