Rose of Anzio - Moonlight (Volume 1)

by Alexa Kang

  Chapter 5

  On an early November afternoon, Anthony was in the locker room preparing for swim team practice. He had come half an hour early to get in a few extra laps before the other team members arrived. Just when he was about to head out to the pool, Brandon Lowe came running to him with the news. He and Brandon had been teammates and had competed together since they were in high school.

  “Anthony, Anthony. Have you heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  “Lloyd, he’s been drafted!”

  Lloyd Pearson. Their swim team captain. Anthony’s heart sank.

  Before Brandon could tell him more, another teammate opened the door. “Anthony, Coach Feldman wants to see you in his office.”

  “What does Coach want with you?” Brandon asked.

  Anthony shrugged. He put his clothes back on and left the locker room. In the office, Lloyd and their coach were both waiting for him.

  “Anthony,” Lloyd greeted him. He seemed surprisingly upbeat.

  “Hey, Lloyd,” Anthony said, his voice uncharacteristically reserved. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about the draft.

  “Anthony, you probably heard already,” the coach said. “Lloyd’s leaving us.”

  “Yes, I heard.” He should say something sympathetic, but he didn’t know what.

  Lloyd, though, didn’t appear concerned. Sitting on the coach’s desk with his legs swinging, he seemed relaxed as always. “Hey, don’t worry about me.” He chugged on a big bottle of water. “I’m ready and pumped. I’ll kick some asses if I have to go to war.”

  His optimistic attitude only made Anthony sadder. Lloyd was a good team captain precisely because he always stayed positive. No matter how tough the competition, he could still convince everyone they were in for a win.

  “We’ll all miss you,” Anthony said. “The team won’t be the same without you.”

  “Maybe not. But they’ll be in good hands. Right, Coach?

  “Right. So, how about it, Ardley? You up for the job?”

  “Me?” Anthony asked. “You’re joking. I can’t be captain. I’m only a sophomore. What about Richard and Hal? They deserve it.”

  “Richard and Hal are both twenty-one. It’s better we have someone who we know will stick around through the end of the year. It’s not good for us to keep changing captains,” the coach said. “It’s bad enough when we lose a team member. I don’t want to keep losing captains.”

  He hesitated. Among their teammates, Lloyd Pearson was a legend. Coach Feldman thought he could fill in for Lloyd?

  “What do you say?” the coach asked.

  This didn’t feel right. He would love to be the team’s captain, but not like this. He wanted to feel he earned it. Right now, there were others who were just as deserving. They should be considered too.

  “What about Stanley? He’s a sophomore and his results are as good as mine.”

  “Mmm.” The coach crossed his arms and drooped his lips, clearly not impressed. “Stan’s a great swimmer, but he isn’t captain material. Too quiet. We need someone who everyone would rally around.”

  Really? The coach thought the team would rally around him? Why wouldn’t they rally around someone else? “What about Brandon? He’s a top competitor and more outgoing than Stanley. Our team would rally around him too.”

  The coached bobbed his head, not entirely convinced. “Brandon’s not a bad choice, but I’d rather have you. My own feeling is Brandon doesn’t care about the team as much as you do. I’ve seen you cheer everyone on, helping them out even the time when you sprained your ankle and got sidelined. Brandon doesn’t have the same team spirit.”

  Was that right? Brandon didn’t have the same team spirit? He never noticed. He thought everyone on the team was in this together.

  “Besides,” Coach Feldman smiled and loosened his arms. “if you’re captain, we’ll always have an advantage when the other teams hear who’s leading our team. The son of William Ardley of the Ardley Group? That’ll turn some heads for sure. They’ll all know we mean business when we show up to compete.”

  Wonderful. Just what he needed. More people on other teams trying to take them down to prove they could beat an Ardley.

  “The team’s yours.” Lloyd jumped off the desk and slapped him on the shoulder. “Take us to the championship. You all will write me and let me know how the season goes, right?” He winked. “Don’t let me down.”

  Anthony tried to smile. He had never been less thrilled about being appointed to be head of anything.

  Chapter 6

  Anthony spotted his Uncle Leon almost as soon as he entered the restaurant. The host brought him to their table, where a sommelier was showing Leon a bottle of wine. Leon looked positively dapper in his London drape suit and his gold and burgundy striped necktie.

  While the choice of wine preoccupied his uncle’s attention, he thanked the host politely and sat down.

  “…absolutely splendid, sir. It’s a vintage from our private collection.”

  “Uh-huh.” Leon studied the wine bottle’s label. “All right, let’s give it a try.”

  “Excellent choice, sir.” He opened the bottle and handed Leon the cork. Leon sniffed it and nodded. The sommelier poured him a taste. He took a sip, his face as serious as if he were pondering a matter of utmost importance. Anthony watched him and smiled.

  “It’s perfect.” Leon put his glass down and signaled the sommelier to pour him a full glass. “Anthony, glad you could make it.”

  “I was looking forward to this.” He opened the menu. A waitress came by and brought them each a glass of water.

  “How’s school?” Leon picked up his glass of wine.

  “Pretty good,” Anthony said, not realizing he was frowning.

  “Pretty good? If it’s pretty good then why the dour face?”

  Anthony closed the menu. “Lloyd left school today.”

  “Lloyd? Lloyd Pearson? Your swim team captain?”

  “Yes. He’s been drafted.”

  Scowling, Leon leaned back in his chair and put down his glass.

  “Coach Feldman made me captain, but I’m not thrilled about it. I hate seeing Lloyd go. Feldman made me captain instead of Richard or Hal because he didn’t want to have to pick another replacement if they are drafted too.”

  “This is exactly the kind of thing I don’t want to see. Our best and brightest plucked from one of the finest universities in the world to go train to be a soldier. What a waste.” Leon shook his head.

  “It’s depressing, I have to say. Not just Lloyd being gone. A lot of the other upperclassmen are gone too. Eight of my fraternity brothers including our president. The house feels empty without them.”

  “You know this isn’t simply a matter of your friends being taken out of school to join the Army.” Leon leaned forward in his chair. “You know what this war’s really about? Profiteering. And I’ll be the first to tell anyone all about the importance of profits. But this isn’t worth it. It’s not worth our boys dying so the East Coast bankers and industrialists can profit off their blood. We need to protect your friends from the profiteers. “

  The waiter came to take their orders. The interruption was a relief to Anthony. He didn’t want to hear Leon go on another diatribe against the war. He didn’t totally disagree with Leon, but he had heard his arguments many times already.

  “We need to make sure things don’t get out of hand,” Leon said after the waiter walked away.

  “I know you’re doing everything you can.”

  “I am, but what about you?”

  “Me? I’m in school. What can I do?”

  Leon pulled a pamphlet from his briefcase by the side of his seat and put it on the table in front of Anthony. “Defend America First!” was printed in bold letters across the top. At the bottom in smaller print, the phrase “America First Committee.”

  “What is this?” Anthony picked it up.

  “It’s a new anti-intervention group. The AFC. Two Yale law stu
dents started it in September. One of them is Douglas Stuart, Jr., son of Quaker Oats’ founder Doug Stuart. The AFC’s setting up new chapters across the country. They have a lot of supporters.”

  “You’re one too, I take it?”

  “I’m funding it. So is Robert Wood.”

  “Robert Wood? Sears Roebuck’s Chairman?”

  Leon nodded. “And Bob McCormick. With Bob on board, we’ll have a strong, influential voice through the Chicago Tribune.”

  “Impressive.”

  “UC doesn’t have a chapter yet.”

  Anthony glanced up from the pamphlet. Leon was looking intently at him. “They’re looking for someone smart and articulate to start one at your school.” Leon smiled. “You’re on the debate team, right? That’s for amateurs. You can put your debating skills to good use for something bigger.”

  Anthony didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know. You know I don’t like politics.”

  “That’s fine if times are normal.” Leon’s voice turned serious. “Times are not normal now. Lloyd, Hal, Richard, all your friends. Their lives are at stake. I don’t have to remind you about that. If you don’t take a stand, you might be next. Think about your parents. How would they feel if you’re drafted?”

  Unsure, Anthony flipped through the pages and took a closer look at the pamphlet. He stopped at the page titled “Missions” and scanned the AFC’s list of goals. “Uncle Leon, the Committee wants to stop American aid to Britain?”

  Leon did not deny it. “The more aid we give, the more involved we’ll get. We’re funding the war.”

  “What if Germany defeats Britain? If that happens, Germany will rule all of Europe.”

  “And if that happens, so what?” Leon said. “How does it benefit us to keep pandering to the Brits? If Germany takes over Europe, we’ll deal with the Germans. Germans, Brits, French, we can do business with any of them. We don’t need to get involved with their squabbles and drama. What’s the worst that can happen if we deal with the Germans instead of the Brits? The only important thing is we don’t let any of them screw us.”

  Anthony opened another page of the pamphlet. “What about Juliet? Aren’t you worried about her? I thought you and Father were still worried about her and her husband in London.”

  “I worry about her every minute. Ask Anna. I’ve been losing sleep every night since the Blitz started. If Juliet would agree to come back to the U.S., I’d send over a plane, a ship! Anything to bring her and Dean back. If they were here, I’d sleep a lot better, but I can’t stand by and do nothing because they refuse to leave London.”

  The waiter returned. Anthony put the pamphlet aside to let the waiter place the first course on the table, but his eyes remained on the pamphlet. He wasn’t closed to the idea of the America First Committee. He didn’t want his country to go to war either. Certainly, he didn’t want to be drafted. But wasn’t stopping American aid to Britain too extreme?

  Anyhow, even if he did join the AFC, he would rather assist than lead. Whenever the Ardleys got involved, people would have higher expectations. If he headed the chapter, people would give more weight to his every word and every action. They would expect him to deliver. They always did. People thought the Ardleys could never fall short. The new chapter would have to gain influence and support very quickly, and it would be his responsibility to see to that happening. Why would he want that kind of expectation on himself, all for politics? He would rather do something else with his time. Maybe even something people never expected he would do.

  “Uncle Leon?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why did Uncle Lex join the Air Force? Did he ever tell you?”

  Leon’s eyes softened at the mention of Lex. “No. He never said, but I knew why.”

  “Why?”

  Leon looked away, deflated. The mention of Lex joining the Air Force took all his fervor away. “You know your father and I were never drafted. Lex wasn’t either. Everyone chalked it up to luck, but the three of us always thought your grandpa pulled some strings to keep us out. Your grandpa was very influential and well-connected in his day. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had.”

  He took a sip of his wine. Anthony waited for him to continue.

  “We never knew for sure if your grandpa was the reason we escaped the draft. Lex thought so, and his conscience got to him. He couldn’t watch other men get drafted while he got to sit it out because his family had connections. I think he went to war to prove a point.”

  “So it wasn’t because he believed in a cause?”

  “No,” Leon denied firmly. “There’s nothing valiant or glorious about why he went. Don’t you get any of those ideas in your head. They’re all lies to get young people like you to give up your lives for people with ulterior motives. Your Uncle Lex wanted to rebel against my parents and your grandpa. It was all a young man’s bravado. It was a mistake.”

  Anthony didn’t think so. If Lex went to war because he didn’t want to abuse his privileged background, it was an admirable act. He wondered how Lex broke it to the family back then when he made that decision to do what his family didn’t expect.

  But he held his tongue. He didn’t want to contradict his uncle. Leon finished his glass of wine. “I need something stronger than this,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Anthony’s heart ached for him. Uncle Leon never got over Lex’s death.

  “Take that pamphlet back with you,” Leon said. “Think about it. The AFC will start a chapter at your school one way or another. I can think of no one more suitable than you for the job. A chapter at the University of Chicago led by William Ardley’s son? That’ll make a statement. Almost as strong a statement as Stuart Jr. leading one at Yale. I’ll make sure you get all the support you need.”

  Anthony looked down at his food. Doug Stuart, Jr., Anthony Ardley. It almost felt like everyone had decided what their roles in the world would be already. He wished his name didn’t always precede him in everything he did.

  PART FOUR

  The South Side

  Chapter 7

  On her way to school, Tessa passed the newsstand two blocks away from St. Mary’s Academy. Today’s front-page headline, “Night Raiders Bomb West End.” She tightened her grip on the strap of her schoolbag. Hopefully, her father and his theater troupe weren’t near the bomb sites. A magazine cover next to the newspapers showed the front side of a London building collapsing into dust clouds and rubble when a shell dropped. Another magazine showed crowds of people shuffling into an underground shelter.

  An icy wind blew past. She pulled her coat collar tighter and hurried on. The Chicago winter had arrived, bringing with it insanely cold temperatures.

  Coming to the school entrance, she checked her watch. It was seven-thirty in the morning. London time would be three-thirty in the afternoon. What were her parents doing now? Her mother should be at work at the hospital. Her father might have just finished performing a matinee. In their last letter, they told her the theater had changed to daytime performances because of the nightly raids.

  Maybe he’s not performing. Maybe a bomb hit him.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head.

  No. They’re fine. They’re fine. Everybody is fine.

  She looked at her watch again. Her parents had given her this watch just before she left for America.

  An unusually heavy fog clouded the Port of Southampton the morning she left for America.

  “I’m sorry we can’t leave with you,” her father said. “England is my country, and I am needed here. You understand, right?”

  She tried to hold back her tears. The night before, he had explained he would be going on another tour to perform for the British troops. He told her entertainment was vital to keep the soldiers’ morale up. He said it was important that he did his part when others were fighting to keep England safe.

  “Then I should stay. England is my country too.”

  “No. You’re still young. You’ll be safer in America.” In
recent months, the German U-boats had been edging closer and closer.

  “Then why can’t Mother come? She’s not British.”

  “Tessa,” her mother said, “that’s a childish question. You know why. If things get worse, people may get hurt, and they’ll need my help. Besides, I don’t want to leave your father here all alone.”

  “But I don’t want to go to America.” She stared over at Uncle William, who was standing off to the side to let them say their private goodbyes.

  “I promise you’ll like it.” Her mother put on a cheerful face. “Your Uncle William will take very good care of you. You’ll like him. And you’ll finally get to see the place where I grew up.”

  “When will I see you again?”

  “We don’t know, but very soon we hope.” Her father reached into his pocket and brought out a jewelry box. “We have a present for you.” He opened it. Inside was a lady’s gold watch.

  She took the watch, a Bulova with a solid rose gold case and rubies set into the bezel. It had indigo-colored hands shaped like the nib of a fountain pen.

  “You asked when you’ll see us again. We can’t tell you the precise date, but it’ll only be a matter of time.” He took her by the shoulders. “I want you to remember that every time you look at this watch.”

  Holding the watch in her hand, she could not hold back her tears anymore.

  “Don’t cry.” Her father gave her a hug. “Here. Put it on. Let’s see how it looks.”

  She put the watch on, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

  “It’s beautiful,” her mother said. “Remember, darling, it’ll only be a matter of time before we see each other again.”

  Uncle William led her away toward the ramp where the passengers embarked.

  She turned around one more time before she boarded the ship. Her father had his arm around her mother and they both waved to her. She wanted to run back to them, but each step she took led her farther and farther away.