Pa pulled Ma by the arm. “C’mon Ma, come with me, while the girls clean up.”
“Sure Ma,” Flo smiled, “we can handle it; keep Pa company.”
“Let me just call my parents,” said Sally.
Lilly and Faith started to clear the table. Flo, who had put on a skirt and blouse, had taken out the curlers and brushed her hair, was already at the kitchen sink giving orders to Vic to help the girls. Glancing over his shoulder, Vic smiled, thinking how much she resembled Ma with her quick smile and black hair, thinking how Ma must have looked like as a teenager.
Amidst the sound of dishes being cleared, scraped and washed plus chairs being moved, Frank got up and went to the phone to say a few words to Sally’s folks. Finishing the call the happy couple said their goodbyes. Once outside, they climbed in the backseat of the old Dodge. Ma and Pa took their places in front. The four kids were at the window watching as they pulled away.
Vic and the girls were still up when the folks returned an hour and a half later.
Gathered in the living room, they talked and talked about Frank and how exciting it was to have him home. Faith fell asleep on the floor next to Flo and Lilly nodded off on the couch with her head in Ma’s lap.
Eventually, the conversation stopped. Flo, looking up from her seat on the floor next to the couch, said to no one in particular, “I can’t believe how grown up he is and he’s more handsome than ever. I hope he’s through with war and doesn’t have to ship out again.”
Ma agreed and said, “C’mon, it’s one thirty in the morning, let’s go to sleep. We’ll see him tomorrow. He’ll be home for four weeks.”
The phone rang about three a.m. Ma, in her nightgown and barefoot, shuffled to the telephone cabinet in the small entry hall. She answered on the fifth ring.
“Hello,” she whispered, hoping not to disturb Pa and the kids.
The loud ring in the middle of night had in fact awakened all of them. Vic was standing in the hallway leading from the dining room, wondering who could be calling in the middle of the night. He listened carefully as Ma held the phone.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Are you sure he’s okay?”
By now Pa was at her side. Vic and Flo crowded behind them.
“What happened?’’
Ma, held her hand up, signaling them to be quiet, paused,. “Oy, I don’t believe it. Do you know where he is?” she said, nodding as she listened.
“What’s going on?” Pa said in a low voice. Ma waved him off. “Wait, I want to tell Pa.”
By now Faith and Lilly, in their nightgowns, were standing there too.
With her hand on the mouthpiece, she turned to Pa. “Frank is gone; he just disappeared about an hour after they went to bed.”
“What do you mean, he’s gone?”
“She said he got up and got dressed, telling her he had to get out and would be back in a little while.”
“And?” Pa wanted to know.
“After about an hour, she got dressed and went to look for him. No one in the hotel could help her. They told her to go back to the room and they would call her when they found him. That was over an hour ago.”
Pa took the phone. “Sally, it’s Pa, don’t worry, I’m coming right down. I’m sure he’s alright, just maybe a little scared after being gone for such a long time. Please, Sally, just try to stop crying and stay where you are. I’m coming and if you hear anything, call Ma right away. I’m on my way. Here, talk to Ma,” he said, handing over the phone.
Looking at Vic, he said, “C’mon with me to find your brother.”
Five minutes later, he returned fully dressed and whispered to Ma, “Keep her on the phone.” Motioning to Vic, he started out the door. ‘We’re on our way. I’ll call when I get there,” he whispered.
They stopped at the front desk of the elegant, high-ceiling lobby and asked to see the security people. They were told that they had found Frank in a bar just off the lower level corridor on the Wabash side, and he’d told them he was okay, but just wanted to be alone. He also had asked them not to say anything to his wife and that he would go upstairs after he had a few drinks.
The small, dark bar was almost empty when Pa and Vic found him. Music was playing softly and the stale smell of cigarettes was in the air. Only one other stool was occupied with a man in a suit who looked like he had been there for several hours. The bartender was washing glasses and glanced up as he heard Pa and Vic walk in. Frank, in his uniform, was sitting quietly with a drink in front of him and did not notice them.
Walking up to him, Pa held his hand up to the bartender to let them alone.
“Are you alright, Frank?” Pa said in a soft voice.
Frank looked up without saying anything. He turned back, focusing on the drink that he cradled in his hands on the bar.
Vic stood behind Pa remaining quiet as he took in the intense scene that was unfolding in front of him in the dark bar. Just hours before they all were celebrating and now his family was being torn apart by a sudden crisis between Sally and Frank.
“Yeah,” Frank said finally, his shoulders drooping.
Pa moved closer and put his hand on the bar so that he was almost facing Frank, “So, what’s up? Sally’s upstairs crying her eyes out.”
“How did you find me?”
“She called about a half-hour ago and I rushed down here.”
“Pa,” he said stifling a sob. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to be married. I’m not ready. I’ve seen too much and I gotta’ be by myself for awhile.”
Except for the soft music and the clinking of glasses as the bartender dried and stacked them, the bar was quiet.
“Frank, Sally loves you. She’s been waiting; don’t you think you should try?”
“You don’t understand Pa. Nobody does. I can’t do this. It’s not like before. Please don’t make me do this. I don’t want it.”
“Frank, are you sure?”
“Yeah, Pa, I’m sure.”
“Okay, stay here and try to lay off the booze. I’m going to go upstairs and talk to Sally. I’ll call her parents and try to get them to take her home. We’ll straighten this out later today. I’ll be back soon.”
Turning to Vic he said, “Stay here with Frank, and don’t leave.”
Tilting his head toward Frank, he said to the bartender. “Take it easy on him. I’ll be back in a little while.”
Vic shook his head when the bartender approached as he sat next to Frank.
“Anything I can do?” he asked softly putting his hand on Frank’s shoulder.
“I hardly recognized you,” Frank said eyeing Vic. “You were a little kid when I left. Now you’re almost as tall as me. What year are you in at Von?”
“I’m starting my sophomore year.”
“I bet you think your brother is crazy, pulling a stunt like this my first night home.”
“Hey, I don’t know anything and I don’t think anything.”
“I learned a lot in the Army Vic. Not only about the war, but how people live and act; it wasn’t pretty. I gotta figure out what I want to do with my life before I settle down. I can’t be married; I’m not ready for that.”
Vic listened, nodding and shaking his head, but not saying a word. He wasn’t sure he understood what his brother was saying.
“Sally’s beautiful and probably will be a great wife, but I’m not the same guy I was when I left. We were eighteen years old when we got married. I don’t even know what I want to do when this war is over. All I want to do right now is enjoy myself and forget about being a soldier.”
“When the war was over in Germany, we all went wild. Every day we drank and had all the women we could handle. We were rich and the people there had nothing. We lived like kings. Sure, we all wanted to come home, but after what we had been through, we wanted more ou
t of life.”
“Yeah, but what about Sally and what about all the other married guys you were with?”
Lifting his drink, Frank took a small sip. “Every last one of them was the same way. We had a few older guys maybe, that had kids and had jobs waiting, but most of them were shackin’ up and drunk every day, too. All the younger married guys, though, wanted out.”
From the Jukebox, “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” played softly..
He sat silent for awhile, while Vic watched him out of the corner of his eye.
“Now we gotta worry about the fuckin’ Japs,” Frank murmured; his voice faltering, as he held back a sob.
“The other thing is what those bastards did to the Jews. They herded women and children and old men into slave camps; terrifying them with bayonets and vicious dogs. In the camps, they worked them hard and starved them and when they were sick or worn out, they sent them to the gas chambers. Then they cremated the bodies in massive ovens. I even saw how they would show off how sick they were by making lamp shades out of human skin, where you could still see the concentration camp numbers tattooed on the arms. I hated those fuckin’ animals.”
Looking down, Frank’s shoulder twitched and he coughed nervously.
“Didn’t anyone say anything?” a frightened Vic asked.
Turning so Vic could see him, he shook his head from side to side slowly and sighed. “Oh yeah, when you ask ‘em, even the soldiers we captured or the people in the towns near the camps, they act like they didn’t know what was going on. They all just blame Hitler.”
Frank stared down and fiddled with the glass in front of him. The bartender glanced in their direction as he overheard Frank, but kept wiping the bar where the customer in the suit had been sitting.
Vic turned to watch Frank and shrugged, not knowing how to respond to what he had just heard. There had been rumors of atrocities and he had read some accounts in the newspaper of the Nazis treatment of Jews and other prisoners, but hearing his own brother talk about what he saw was different and frightening.
Putting his hand on Frank’s shoulder and clearing his throat, he quietly said, “Hey Frank, I’m not old enough to understand all that you’re talkin’ about, but after what you been through, I think you gotta do what you think is right. Don’t let anybody force you to be married.”
That was almost a month ago. Frank stayed at home for several days and was mostly quiet, responding when spoken to and little else. When Sally came by, he refused to see or talk to her. When he did go out, he would walk around the neighborhood in his uniform, sometimes with Flo or Vic or even Faith and Lilly and talk with people and try to connect with any of his friends who were around. There weren’t too many, except for one or two who had been wounded and discharged and a couple who had been rejected for service. Frank would quickly shake hands or greet them, but would shrug when they commented about his medals or tried to continue the conversation. His brother and sisters noticed it and mentioned it to Ma and Pa.
Two weeks after Frank came home, he received a call from two Army buddies who were passing through Chicago on their way home to California. They came to dinner that night.
One, a little Italian guy named Duke, who had thinning gray hair and a heavy five o’clock shadow looked old enough to be Frank’s father and was very talkative. Turning to Ma, after devouring everything on his plate, he patted his stomach, saying, “This is the best fuckin’ food I’ve had in two years.”
The other one, a big guy, Tiny, punched him in the arm while the family, including Ma and Frank laughed. Startled by the laughter followed by silence, his hand covering his mouth, Duke quickly recovered, “hey Mrs. Wayne, I really love the food. It reminds me of home.”
After dinner, Frank, appearing happier than he had been since coming home, took Tiny and Duke out for drinks. Pa insisted that they take Vic along to drive, figuring it was going to be a long night before the two soldiers were dropped off at Union Station to continue their journey west.
They stopped at the Double Door Bar, on Argyle near Broadway, so named because it had an entrance on either side of a large window painted dark green halfway up and topped with a red and white neon sign in script, spelling out “Double Door.”. Inside, the place was dark with a cloud of smoke over the bar and you could hear every creak of the old hardwood floors as people walked or moved the bar stools. The bartender nodded to Frank as he flipped coasters on the bar in front of them.
“What can I get ya’, soldier” he asked, taking a drag on his cigarette.
They ordered and Duke immediately lit up and began jabbering.
At the jukebox, a chunky woman in high heels and a short skirt was putting in a few coins. “Hey soldier, how bout a dance?” she sang out, looking at Duke.
Her girlfriend, a little taller and heavier, moved from her stool and approached Frank and his friends. A cigarette dangled from her heavily made up lips. “Got a Light, Soldier?” she asked approaching Frank and rubbing up against him. She also had on high heels and a short skirt with a tight-fitting blouse with an extra button open.
Frank handed her some matches and turned back to talk to Duke and Tiny.
The woman moved closer to Vic, but turned abruptly when she noticed how young he was. Frank saw her and looked at Vic, who he could see was watching the flashy looking woman swing her hefty hips as she returned to her bar stool.
The three soldiers laughed as Vic’s face flushed.
Tiny, looking around, eyed a heavily made up girl shaking a dice cup at the twenty six table, trying to get their attention. “Watch this,” he said, getting off his seat. “This cowboy is goin’ over to talk to that long skinny gal with the big headlights.” Taking his drink, he walked over to her. “Hi, little lady,” he drawled, “how bout rollin’ the dice with me for a drink?”
Flashing a smile, showing a few bad teeth, the stringy-haired blonde looked up at him, “Sure, soldier, always happy to entertain the troops, especially when they’re as big and good lookin’ as you. Except you gotta stay on your side of the table, the boss don’t like anyone getting too friendly with his girlfriend.”
Tiny chuckled.
“Sure ya know how to play?”
“Been a long time sweetheart, but I’m sure you’ll teach me.
“Okay baby just put down a buck and win a drink.”
Picking up and shaking the cup, Tiny rolled the dice on the small green felt table, whistling as he came up with a twenty four.
“Hey, you’re lucky, handsome, that’s hard to beat!” She smiled, adjusting her low- slung sweater to give him a better view of her well-endowed chest. Then she frowned, rolling over twenty six and squeezed his hand a little longer as she handed him a ticket for a drink.
Continuing the game, he leaned a little closer over the table and she did the same. When he won a second time, she laughed loudly. “Hey baby you’re hot.”
“You’re pretty hot yourself with those long pretty legs. How bout I throw a nickel in the jukebox and we can dance.”
“Sorry,” she said trying to look a little shy, “I gotta stay right here and try to get a few more suckers to play; maybe another time.”
He lost three dollars on the next three rolls and decided to give up on the blonde. “See you around, baby, call me next time you’re in California,” he laughed, returning to sit with Frank and Duke.
A short fat guy with a cigar took his place and threw a few dollars on the table. You could hear the blonde squeal as he won his first toss.
Vic sat quietly, drinking a coke and listening as the three buddies reminisced about all the guys in their Company and where they had been in the war.
Duke talked almost non-stop. “Hey, Wayne, remember when you screwed that German girl with the long blonde braids when we stopped to eat lunch in that small village? The fuckin’ eighty-eights were bursting all around and
you were in the barn with her. Boy, was she a sight when she came out naked and ran into the house with you chasing her and yelling, ‘I love you, shotze’. Man, you were drunk as a skunk. The rest of us were hiding under anything we could find and had to look for you before we pulled out. Old Sergeant Slocum fuckin’ chewed you out all afternoon.”
Looking at Frank, Vic covered his mouth stifling a laugh and then turned away, busying himself with his coke.
Frank laughed. “Hey Duke, what about you and Tiny leavin’ those fuckin’ ‘Kilroy Was Here’ signs everywhere we went? It used to drive the krauts crazy trying to figure who or what the fuck Kilroy was.”
After the third coke, Vic quit, but the three buddies kept going.
A bald heavy set man down the bar yelled to the bartender, “Hey, give the soldiers a drink on me.” He waved at them. “Thanks, guys, you do a hell of a job.”
“Thanks partner,” yelled Duke, waving back.
The bartender bought them one a little later, saying “The old man is right, we all thank you. Come back here anytime.”
About midnight, with Vic driving, they left for Union Station. The three slightly disheveled soldiers, all drunk and loud but walking straight, said their good byes on the street in front of the station. Vic saw them shake hands and then embrace as they quietly wished each other good luck and promised to keep in touch. Frank waited and watched as Duke and Tiny walked to the entrance.
Back in the car, turning to Vic, he said “You see those two guys? Two of the best friends I ever had. They were both with me since the Battle of the Bulge. Old Duke was like a crazy man. I once saw him kill a Kraut with a bayonet. A half hour later we found him behind a tree crying and wiping blood off his hands. An hour later he was fine and gave some German kids a couple of bars of chocolate.”
“And Tiny, he was always quiet and tough. Right after the war the three of us got into a fight over a couple of girls in a bar. Big gentle Tiny, cold cocked three guys and threw another one through a window. Two days later he worked thirty six hours straight, volunteering at a mess hall for starving refugees. Now he’s goin’ home to a wife and two little kids.”
Albany Park Page 3