He wiped his eyes. “Wheezie, nothing will ever be the same. The world’s gone crazy.” He sniffled. “Here I’m forgetting myself. What can I get you?”
“We don’t really want anything. We don’t know what to do.” Louise’s lip quivered. “Our husbands are standing down there in line, too, and they’re enlisting behind our backs.” Louise started to cry.
That made Julia cry and Flavius, as well. The Yosts came into the store. Pretty soon everyone who came in was crying. People were shocked, confused, and deeply worried.
Lillian said, “Ted Baeckle won’t take Chessy or Pearlie. Don’t fret.”
Ted Baeckle was the Army recruiter. When Germany invaded Poland on the first of September, 1939, Juts, as a precautionary measure, visited Ted, begging him not to let Chester sign up should he try to enlist.
Ted replied that she shouldn’t worry. The United States wasn’t at war. If they went to war he’d sideline her husband. However, that was two years ago and she was plenty worried.
“You know during the War Between the States they took men who were in their sixties and boys who were twelve.” Juts dabbed her eyes. “How do we know it won’t happen again?”
“We’re not that desperate,” Lillian stated.
The door swung open. Doak Garten came in. He smiled at them. “Navy!”
“My God,” Louise exclaimed, then forced a smile. “You’ve done the right thing, Doak, we’re just all—I don’t know what we are.”
“Miserable,” Julia, chin on hand, answered.
Just then Ray breezed in. He and Doak slapped each other on the back. This was a big adventure to them.
Louise called out to Ray, “Extra Billy still in line?”
“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Trumbull, and he’s going to enlist in the Marines.”
“He would,” she grumbled.
Julia, under her breath, whispered, “Louise, you can be hateful. The boy could get killed, you know.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Julia. He’s too thickheaded to train. He’ll spend the war in the brig.” She wanted to add, “And what am I supposed to do with a crying Mary and a crying baby?”
Louise couldn’t have been more wrong.
27
You know how strongly I disapprove of war, no matter what the provocation,” Mother Smith declaimed. “Thank heavens Ted Baeckle exhibited judgment.”
Chester, hands clasped behind his back, surreptitiously glanced at the clock. “Yes, Mother.”
“Why did I raise you if you mean to persist in immoral activities? War is immoral.”
“Ted made me second in command of the Civil Air Patrol. I guess it’s better than nothing. Celeste Chalfonte is head of it, of course. She’ll whip everyone into shape.” Chessy sighed.
“Part and parcel of war.” Jo Smith stuck out her chin.
“I’m not going to sit on the sidelines after what happened at Pearl Harbor.”
“Thou shalt not kill. You can’t amend the Ten Commandments. They are the Ten Commandments, not the Ten Suggestions.” Not given to a sense of humor, Josephine Smith didn’t realize that she was funny. “What are you smirking at?”
“Nothing, Mother.”
“Your brothers had the sense not to try to sign up.”
“Bulova will be involved in war manufacturing, so Joseph’s contributing to the war effort.” The minute the words were out of his mouth he wished he could call them back. You never won an argument with Mother Smith.
“Don’t try to hide behind Joseph,” she snapped.
“Mother, I have an appointment.”
“I don’t recall you having appointments on Tuesday evening.”
“Well—I do.”
“I suppose that wife of yours put you up to trying to enlist.”
“No. She didn’t want me to go. This may be the only time you and Juts have agreed on anything.”
Her harrumph was a sign of distaste.
“Give Dad my best.”
She followed him to the door. “What is that father of Julia’s doing? Is he sitting around like a bump on a log, useless?”
“He does odds and ends around the house. He can hardly breathe.”
“Won’t last long,” she said with relish. “The wages of sin, I expect.”
“The wages of too many cigarettes and breathing all that dust in the Nevada mines, Mother.” Chessy was counting to ten. “When he left here he headed for the mines. He’s trying to make amends.”
“He should have stayed underground.” She pursed her lips. “Your wife has a cigarette buttoned to her lip. If there’s lung weakness in the family then she’ll come down with it.”
His mother was talking even as he started his car motor. Finally she shut the door to keep out the cold.
He parked behind the dance studio. All the streets in Runnymede had alleyways behind them, which facilitated deliveries and also helped drivers detour around bad traffic.
He ran up the stairs and opened the door.
“Hi, I’m sorry I’m a little late. My mother can talk.”
Her eyes were sorrowful even as she was smiling. “That’s okay. I had a lesson that ran late. I bought some new records last week.” She paused. “I heard you enlisted.” She dropped the needle on the record, and “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire” played.
“Nah.” He took her in his arms, ready to warm up. “I’m not that brave.”
“I saw you standing in line.”
“Where were you?” He twirled her around.
“Yosts’. I ran in to get a doughnut and just talk, I guess. This is all so terrible and it frightens me so. Anyway, I saw you standing there with Pearlie. The Yosts were so upset that when I left, they closed up the shop for the day.”
“Everybody is shook.”
“Did you sign up?” Her voice lowered.
“Ted won’t take me. He said I’m an old man.”
“You’re not old at all.” She gazed up at him.
“Well—anyway, Ted made me second banana of the Civil Air Patrol. At least I’m doing something.”
“I’m glad you’re not going.”
His eyes brightened in amusement. “You must like having your feet stepped on every Tuesday.”
She didn’t reply. As the lesson wore on she added sweeps and swoops to the waltz, a dance both of them enjoyed. Chessy was losing his inhibitions and becoming a good dancer.
After each lesson they usually sat for a few minutes and chatted.
“Are you all right? You seem a little low.”
She folded her hands together, leaning forward. “What if the Japanese sail to the West Coast with their aircraft carriers? They could bomb San Francisco and Seattle. It’ll take a long time to rebuild our fleet.”
“I guess we’ve got some ships left in places like San Diego and Newport News. They’d have a naval battle before anything like Pearl Harbor could happen again. The Navy will fly reconnaissance missions every day. At least I hope they do.”
“What if the Japanese success makes the Germans think they can attack us? You know, people say submarines have been sighted off Baltimore Harbor.”
“The British couldn’t sack Baltimore, and the Germans won’t be able to do it either. The state of Maryland may be tiny but we’re tough.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, Trudy. Tomorrow’s worries may never arrive.” He laughed. “Now my mother, she can worry, and Julia’s sister, Wheezie—there’s another one. They worry enough for the rest of us. Relax, because Josephine Smith and Louise Trumbull are worrying enough for you, too.”
This made her laugh, so that her pretty features were ever prettier. “You’re right. I wish I were as smart as you are.”
Now he laughed. “Trudy, you’re the only woman who ever called me smart.” He stood up. “Well, time to go home. I’ll see you next Tuesday.” He paused a moment. “I’m getting a kick out of this. You’re a good teacher. I never thought I could learn to dance.”
“Thank you.” She put her hand on his arm. “I know you wanted to
go to war but I’m so glad you’ll be protecting us here.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
He felt her lips burning on his cheek the whole way down Hanover Street.
28
What do you make of it?” Harper Wheeler, the South Runnymede sheriff, asked Millard Yost, the baker who was head of the volunteer fire department.
“Arson. Didn’t even try to cover up the evidence.” Millard pointed to rags and gasoline cans scattered about.
“That’s a hell of a note.” Harper spat on the water-soaked ground already turning to ice in the bitter night air.
“Yep.” Millard watched his men roll up the hoses.
Chessy screeched into the parking lot of Sans Souci, Fannie Jump Creighton’s nightclub, which stood next to the meat warehouse that had been the arsonist’s target. The firetrucks of both North and South Runnymede’s volunteer fire departments filled the parking lot. Although the fire took place on the south side, each fire department assisted the other, state lines be damned.
Chessy hurried over to help Pearlie, his face red as he hauled hoses. “Damn, this would happen on my week off.”
Pearlie grunted. “Couldn’t do a goddamned thing.”
“You kept it from spreading to Fannie’s. That’s something.” He noticed Fannie, wrapped in her expensive beaver coat, sitting in her Buick. “She sound the alarm?”
“Yeah, got everyone out of her place, then cut off the power. She tried to cut the power over here but it was already too far gone.”
“You don’t need me. I’ll visit Fannie.”
He rapped on the window. She rolled it down. “Fannie, you okay?”
She nodded grimly.
He got in the passenger side as she rolled up the window. The meat-warehouse cat, Matilda, wild-eyed but unsinged, burrowed in Fannie’s voluminous coat.
“Do the Mojos know yet?”
“Haven’t told Orrie, and Noe’s in Washington.”
“Oh.” Chester hesitated. “What’s he doing down there?”
“He didn’t want to stand in line here because he was so ashamed of being Japanese. So he went to Washington to ask our congressman to sign him up for the Army. Noe contributed heavily to his campaign, as you know.”
“Jesus!” Chester rarely swore in front of a lady. “Oops—sorry, Fannie.”
“I say worse than that.”
“He didn’t bomb Pearl Harbor. Why should he be ashamed? I wish I’d known. I never gave it a thought.”
“Someone did.” She stared in the direction of the ruined plant.
“Who could do something like this?”
“Who knows what people think anymore? Noe’s Japanese-born, I guess that’s enough.”
“He’s one of us.” Chester crossed his arms over his muscled chest.
“‘One of us’ means white, Anglo-Saxon, and Protestant, with a few Catholics thrown in for seasoning.”
“Ah, I don’t think that way.”
“Neither do I, Chessy, but plenty do. He’s a target. They bombed us, we’ll burn one of their own. Kill two birds with one stone—sort of. The Rifes own the warehouse. Noe just rents it.”
He quietly watched the figures in their big fire helmets. “What next?”
“God only knows—if He cares.” She stroked the cat’s smooth head. “At least Matilda’s safe.”
“And you, too.” He sighed. “I was on my way home and saw the red ball in the sky.” He checked his watch. “Bet Juts is wondering where I am.”
“She’ll understand.” Fannie sighed deeply. A puff of cold breath floated toward the windshield in the acrid air. “Guess I’d better go tell Orrie. She’s already having fits because Noe’s enlisting. This will really set her off.”
“He speaks Japanese. That makes him pretty valuable.”
“I’ll swing by the T.P.—what do you think?” She had picked up Juts’s name for Louise’s residence. “Orrie will be needing Louise.”
“Good idea,” Chester agreed.
“You know, I had a funny feeling something like this would happen. Ever since Fairy Thatcher disappeared in Germany back in thirty-seven, I’ve never felt right about the world. She’s dead, of course. I know perfectly well she’s dead. To be a rich woman and fall for that socialist crap—poor sweet thing. She never did have the sense God gave a goose. I expect the S.S. shot her, or someone in a spanking-new uniform put her down. I don’t know, Chester. I’m an old woman. The world’s gone crazy, it seems to me.”
Gallantly, he protested, “Fannie Jump, no one will ever call you old—and the world has gone crazy. I think Fairy knew it before we did.”
“Well, she died for it. If the Germans wouldn’t listen to their own kind they weren’t going to listen to an American tell them the Nazis were evil.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Celeste and I sit and talk sometimes. People have changed. This country has changed. It’s not just that we’re getting old and cranky … you can smell the violence.” She stopped, then grumbled, “Here comes that goddamned nosy Popeye. Can you imagine the kind of woman that will marry him? She’ll—”
A tap on the window interrupted her. She rolled it down. “Mrs. Creighton, I forgot to ask you the exact time you noticed the burning smell.”
“About eight-thirty.”
“Thank you. Hello, Chester. Do you know anything?”
“I’m dumb as a sack of hammers, Popeye, you know that.”
He peered over his spectacles. “Well, then how did you know there was a fire?”
“I saw the red glow on my way home so I headed in this direction.” He reached over to pet the frightened cat. “Heard the sirens, too.”
Popeye flipped the pages on his stenographer’s pad. “Let me double-check this.” He smiled at Fannie. “You saw a car pull away about the time you smelled the fire?”
“Popeye, I told you. I saw an old Ford, a Model A, and the license plate was painted over.”
“Hmm.”
“Why didn’t you enlist?” A hint of malice laced her voice.
Unperturbed, he replied, “Flat feet.”
“How convenient,” she acidly remarked.
“You could join the Civil Air Patrol,” Chessy said mildly.
“Being a reporter’s a twenty-four-hour job. A free press is the backbone of a democracy, so I’m playing my part.”
“I’ll just bet you are.” Fannie glared up at him.
“Any idea who would do such a thing?” Popeye focused on Chessy.
“A real shit-ass.”
“Now, now,” he chided, “you know we can’t print that.”
“Don’t, then.” Chester felt a ball of anger rising in his throat. “Whoever did this ought to be horsewhipped in Runnymede Square. Noe Mojo can’t help being Japanese-born any more than I can help my people being English. He’s a good man. You know, Popeye, Noe’s not a rich man. He can’t cover these losses.”
“Rifes own the building.” Popeye scribbled some more.
“They may own it, but we don’t know the arrangement. What if Noe is held liable? He’ll go bankrupt.”
“I’ll call Zeb Vance. Thanks for the lead.”
Zeb Vance owned an insurance agency in town.
“Suit yourself,” Fannie said. “Popeye, I’m cutting this interview short. Orrie needs me.”
A light went on in his eyes. “Oh.”
“Yeah, and if you follow me and try to take pictures I’ll bust your face in. Might even be an improvement.” She turned on her motor, gunned it, and left Popeye standing in the parking lot.
29
The Curl ‘n’ Twirl was somber the next morning. Juts and Louise hadn’t the energy to pick on each other, much less on anybody else.
As friends came in for their appointments, they mourned recent events. Who would set a deliberate fire in a place like Runnymede?
Theories abounded, several women insisting the culprit had to be a thrill-seeking teenager. The most disquieting opinion was Celeste Chalfonte’s. She suggested a situation like Pearl
Harbor gave lazy people the opportunity to extract revenge. The act only appeared political.
“What do you mean, exactly?” Juts held the nail-polish brush steady over Celeste’s long, aristocratic fingers.
“Noe is a success. The arsonist is not. The arsonist is the worm that turned.”
“So you think it’s one of us.”
“Not one of us in this room—but yes.”
Julia shuddered. “What an awful thought.”
Louise was making up a bleaching solution for Ev Most, who would deny it if asked. Ev, Juts’s best friend, had just endured a six-month ordeal in Clarksburg, West Virginia, caring for her husband’s dying mother. The suffering soul finally went to her reward. “When old Brutus was alive we could blame every tragedy on him.”
“The current crop of Rifes would rather suck blood than spill it.” Celeste leaned back, her eyes half closed. “Brutus was at least a formidable enemy. No—this is some small, inconsequential person who now feels very powerful indeed.” Then she asked, “When does Noe’s train arrive?”
“Seven-thirty,” Louise replied. She had already told everyone that Orrie had taken the news like a trouper, rejoicing that Matilda was alive.
“Ladies, we should make an effort to greet that train.”
Many other people shared Celeste’s sentiments. When Noe disembarked at the station, his friends and well-wishers were there along with the inevitable Popeye Huffstetler.
Noe informed the irritating reporter that he had been accepted into the Army and would most likely be assigned to cryptographer duties, decoding messages from the enemy.
“How do you feel fighting against your country?” Popeye asked.
Noe, calm in the face of stupidity, replied, “This is my country.”
“But aren’t you angry? Someone burned down your business.”
Noe shrugged. “I’m angry, I’m sad.”
“Who do you think did such a thing?” Popeye persisted.
“Will you shut up?” Chessy pulled Noe away.
Walter Falkenroth was in the group, but he had an ironclad rule never to interfere with his reporters. He did, however, cast Popeye a disapproving stare.
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