There were a few people gathered around the machine as they walked toward it. They made room for Johnny to walk through when they saw him. Doris stood next to him, Irving and Jane opposite him. The machine had been silent as they came into the room, but now it began to tick.
Johnny picked up the tape and began to read aloud from it.
WASHINGTON, D.C., MARCH 12 (AP).—BY EXECUTIVE ORDER PRESIDENT WILSON TODAY ORDERED THAT MERCHANT VESSELS BE ARMED TO PROTECT THEMSELVES AGAINST THE FURTHER WANTON DEPREDATIONS OF GERMAN SUBMARINES. THIS ORDER WAS ISSUED JUST EIGHT DAYS AFTER CONGRESS HAD FAILED TO PASS A BILL GIVING MERCHANT SHIPS THIS PRIVILEGE. THE COMPLETE TRANSCRIPT OF THE PRESIDENT’S ORDER WILL FOLLOW AS SOON AS AVAILABLE.—MORE WILL FOLLOW.
For almost a minute there was a complete silence in the room while the import of the news sank in. Bannon was the first to find his tongue. “This means war,” he said flatly. “Nobody can stop it now. Looks like the President finally made up his mind.”
Johnny looked at him. War. The United States would have to go to war. Suddenly he galvanized into action. He turned to Jane. “Get Joe Turner on the wire at the studio, quick!”
She ran back to his office.
He turned to Bannon. “Get a special reel out on this as fast as you can, then get down to Washington with a full crew. I want pictures of everything important that might happen and I want you on the train within two hours!”
He turned and went back to his office, Doris following him. He had forgotten about her for a few seconds; now he felt her hand on his arm. He stopped and looked at her.
Her face was pale and her eyes wide in the yellow light of the corridor. Her voice was small and still. “If war comes, Johnny, what are you going to do?”
He smiled reassuringly at her and avoided the question. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said. “We’ll see what happens first.”
They went into his office. Jane looked up at them. “Your call will be through in about fifteen minutes, Johnny.”
“Good girl,” he said, and walked over to his desk, sat down, and lit a cigarette. If war came he wondered what he would do. He didn’t know and yet he did. There was only one answer when your country was at war.
He couldn’t sit still. He fidgeted in his chair restlessly. At last he got up. “I’m going down to Irving’s office,” he told them. “Call me there when you get Joe on the wire.” He walked out.
Doris followed him with her eyes. She said nothing; she could see his restlessness, and something inside her seemed to shrivel and tighten until she could hardly breathe. Her face grew paler.
Jane looked at her sympathetically from a new-born freedom. She got up from her chair and walked over to Doris and took her hand. “Worried?” she asked.
Doris nodded her head. She fought hard to keep tears from coming to her eyes, but she could feel them trembling just beneath her lids.
“You love him,” Jane said.
Doris’s voice was husky. “I’ve always loved him,” she whispered, “from the time I was a kid. I used to dream about him and not know what it meant. Then one day I knew.”
“He loves you too,” Jane said softly. “But he doesn’t know it yet.”
The tears stood clearly in Doris’s eyes now. “I know. But if war comes—and he goes away—he may never find out.”
Jane squeezed her hand. “Don’t you worry, he’ll find out.”
Doris smiled through her tears. “Do you really think so?” she asked.
“Of course he will,” Jane reassured her. And all the time she was thinking to herself: “The poor kid, it’s as bad as that.”
The phone rang, startling them. Jane picked up the receiver on Johnny’s desk.
“I’ve got that Los Angeles call for you,” the operator’s voice told her.
“Just a minute,” Jane replied. She held her hand over the mouthpiece and spoke to Doris. “Would you mind going down the hall for him, honey?”
Doris was glad to be doing something. She had felt so completely out of things before. She smiled at Jane and nodded. She left the room.
A minute later she was back, following Johnny into the office. He took the phone from Jane’s hand.
“Hello, Joe?” he said.
He could hear Joe’s voice booming on the other end of the wire. “Yes, Johnny. What do yuh want?”
“The President’s putting guns on merchant ships,” Johnny said tersely. “It looks like war for sure.”
Joe whistled. “It’s sooner than I expected.” He was silent for a moment. “What do yuh want me to do?” he asked.
“You got that war picture finished yet?” Johnny asked.
“The last scene got into the can this morning,” Joe answered proudly.
“Then ship it to New York right away. If we get it out now, we’ll clean up,” Johnny said.
“I can’t do that,” Joe replied. “It’s got to be edited an’ the title cards have to be made up. That’s a couple of weeks’ work at the least.”
Johnny thought for a moment. “We can’t wait that long,” he said definitely. “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Get your best editor and two writers to get on the train with you tonight. Take along some reel-winders and reserve two adjoining compartments. You edit the film on the way in and have them write up the cards. Have everything ready when you get to New York. We’ll make up the cards here and insert them. Then we can start duping prints and rush ’em out into the theaters.”
“I don’t know whether we can make it,” Joe said. “It’s short notice.”
“You’ll make it,” Johnny answered confidently. “I’m notifying all the distributors and salesmen that the picture will be ready next week.”
“Jesus!” Joe exploded, “you haven’t changed a bit. You can’t wait for anything!”
“We can’t wait,” Johnny retorted.
“What does Peter say?” Joe asked.
“I don’t know,” Johnny replied. “He isn’t here yet.”
“All right, all right,” Joe said, “I’ll try to do it.”
“Good,” Johnny said, “I know you’ll do it. Have you got a name for the picture yet?”
“Not yet,” Joe answered. “We’ve been working it under the title ‘War Story.’”
“Okay,” Johnny said. “It’ll have a name when you get here.” He hung up the phone and looked at them. “Some good may come out of this yet,” he said.
“Johnny,” Doris cried out in a voice filled with anguish, “Johnny, how could you talk like that? Saying some good will come out of the Germans making war against all those innocent people? How could you?”
He stared at her. He never even noticed the reproach in her voice. He grabbed both her hands and pumped them excitedly. “That’s it, Doris, that’s it!” he shouted.
“What?” she asked, more bewildered than ever at his actions.
He didn’t answer her question; instead he turned to Jane and spoke rapidly. “I want you to get this notice out to all distributors and salesmen. Have the advertising department start working up material and getting out stories on it. Put this down.” He paused for a moment while Jane got a pencil and paper ready.
“Magnum Pictures announces the immediate release of its latest and greatest production, The War against the Innocents. It will be ready for immediate showing next week. This picture will expose all the terrors and bestialities of the Hun that we know so well from our daily papers.”
He stopped for a minute and looked down at Jane. “Tell you what,” he said, “send it down to the advertising department. Have them rewrite it and get it out.”
He turned back to Doris. There was a big smile on his face. “Grab your coat, sweetheart,” he said. “We don’t want to be late in getting to the train!”
5
The projection room was crowded as the first completed print of The War against the Innocents was run off. When the picture came to an end, the audience filed out silently and broke up into small groups in the corridor.
A selec
ted audience had been invited to the preview of the picture. The country had been at war almost a week and interest in the picture was widespread. Representatives of the larger newspapers and press associations, government officials, and prominent distributors and theater men had been among those present.
Now they were crowding around Peter and Joe offering their congratulations. They felt that the picture would do a great deal in telling the American public why the war had become necessary.
“An excellently made and brilliant piece of propaganda for our side,” one of the guests told Peter. “You’re to be congratulated for striking the Hun where it hurts.”
Peter nodded his head. Something inside him had turned sick as he had watched the picture. Now as he heard the man’s voice, he thought bitterly: “Congratulations I’m getting for making war against my own people and family.” He couldn’t speak, his heart was too heavy. He was glad when the last guest had gone and they could go up to Johnny’s office, where it was comparatively quiet and he could sit down. Esther, Doris, Joe, and Johnny were there with him.
They didn’t talk much—just looked at each other guiltily. There was a tension in the air that all seemed to feel, and each thought it was there for a different reason.
At last Peter spoke. “Have you got a little schnapps or something, Johnny?” he asked. “I feel a little tired.”
Silently Johnny reached into his desk and took out a bottle and some paper cups. He poured some whisky into each cup and passed them around to Joe and Peter. He held his cup toward them. “To victory!” he said.
They swallowed their drinks.
The liquor loosened Joe’s tongue. “I made the damn picture and yet, after seeing it, I feel like goin’ out and enlisting myself.”
Peter didn’t answer. He picked up some papers from Johnny’s desk and looked at them absently. They were exhibition contracts for the picture. He dropped them as if they burned his fingers. “Money I got to make from this yet,” he thought.
Esther sensed how he was feeling. She walked over to him and stood there silently. He looked up at her gratefully; they understood each other.
Johnny’s voice fell into the room like a shellburst. “What are you going to do about replacing me while I’m away?” he asked quietly. They looked at him startled. There was a smile on his lips, but none in his eyes.
Peter’s accent was more pronounced. “Vat do you mean?”
Johnny looked at him. “Just what I said,” he answered, “I’m going to enlist tomorrow.”
“No!” an anguished cry came from Doris’s lips.
Esther looked at her daughter. A feeling of chilled surprise ran through her. Doris’s face had drained of color. It was white, almost ashen in hue. “I should have known,” she reproached herself silently. Now the many things that Doris had said and done suddenly made sense. It had always been like that. She went to her daughter and took her hand. Doris’s hand was trembling.
The men didn’t even notice them. “By Jesus!” Joe swore, “I’m goin’ with yuh!”
Peter looked from one to the other. “This day I had to live to believe,” he thought. “To see these men whom I love go out to war against my brothers.” He got to his feet. “Do you have to go?” he asked aloud.
Johnny looked at him strangely. “There isn’t anything else I can do,” he answered. “It’s my country.”
Peter saw the look on Johnny’s face. A feeling of hurt flooded through him. “Does he doubt my loyalty?” he thought. He forced a smile to his face. “Go if you must,” he said heavily, “and don’t worry about us. Just be careful, we want you both back.” He reached out his hand to Johnny.
Johnny took his hand across the desk. “I knew you’d understand.”
The tears began to flood into Doris’s eyes. A whisper from her mother stopped them. She could hear the whisper in her mind for a long time afterward.
“You should never cry in front of your man, liebe kind,” her mother said understandingly.
***
Johnny looked down at his desk. The last paper had been signed, all his work had been cleaned up. He placed the pen back in its holder and looked over at Peter. “I guess that does it,” he said. “Any more questions?”
Peter shook his head. “No, everything’s straightened out.”
Johnny stood up. “Sure,” he said. “Besides if anything turns up that you’re not familiar with, ask Jane. She runs the place anyway.” He turned to Jane and smiled at her.
She smiled back at him. “We’ll try to get along while you’re gone, boss,” she said teasingly.
He grinned. “Don’t kid me, Janey. I know better. I’m one of the boys.” He took out his watch and looked at it. “Gosh,” he said, “I’d better hurry. I promised to meet Joe at the recruiting station at three o’clock.”
He walked over to the clothes tree and took his hat. He put it on and came back to Peter. He held out his hand. “So long, Peter,” he said, “I’ll see you after the party is over.”
Peter gripped his hand silently. They held firmly for a few seconds, then parted.
Johnny walked over to Jane’s desk. He reached over it and mussed her hair. “So long, baby.”
She got up and kissed him quickly. “So long, boss,” she said in a husky voice. “Be careful.”
“Sure,” he said. The door shut behind him.
Peter and Jane looked at each other after he had gone. “I—I think I’m going to cry,” she said in a small voice.
He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose heavily. “Nu,” he said, “go ahead. Who’s stopping you?”
***
As Johnny stopped on the sidewalk in front of the office to light a cigarette, he heard a voice calling him. He looked up.
“Johnny! Johnny!” Doris was running toward him.
He waited for her to come up to him. “Why aren’t you in school, sweetheart?” he asked sternly, but something in his heart had lightened when he saw her.
“I didn’t go back yesterday,” she said breathlessly. “I wanted to see you again before you went away. I’m glad I didn’t miss you.”
They stood there in the street looking at each other. Neither knew what to say.
Johnny broke the silence. “I’m glad you came, sweetheart.”
“Are you, Johnny?” she asked, her eyes shining.
“Very glad,” he said.
They fell silent again. This time it was Doris that broke the silence. “Will you write me, Johnny, if I write you?”
“Sure,” he said. And again the silence. Awkward. Embarrassing. Their eyes doing much more talking than their lips.
He took out his watch and looked at it. “I’m late,” he said unnecessarily, “I’ve got to get going.”
“Yes, Johnny.” She looked down at the ground, her face lowered.
He put a hand under her chin and turned her face up to him. “Be a good girl,” he said, trying to joke, “and wait for me. Maybe when I come back, I’ll bring you something nice.”
There were tears in the corners of her eyes. “I’ll wait for you, Johnny, even if it’s forever.”
He felt embarrassed at the intensity in her voice. Red began to creep over his neck and into his face as he flushed. “Sure, sweetheart,” he said, still trying awkwardly to joke. “Do that an’ I’ll bring you a present.”
“You don’t have to bring me anything, Johnny. Just come back the way you are now. That’s all I want.”
“What can happen to me?” He laughed.
6
The long khaki-clad line shuffled wearily to a halt. The hot, white sun beat heavily down on them. The dust had caked itself into thick clots on their skin where the sweat had turned it into mud.
The orders came echoing down from the head of the column: “Break ranks. Take ten.”
Johnny threw himself on the grass by the side of the road. He lay on his back, hands over his eyes. His breath drew wearily in his throat.
Joe sat on the ground beside him. “Christ,” he
muttered, “my dogs are killing me.” He took his shoes off and began to massage his feet. He groaned.
Johnny just lay there quietly. A shadow fell across him. He took his hands from his eyes and looked up at it. It was the corporal. He moved over to make room for him on the small clump of grass. “Grab yourself a piece of grass, Rock,” he said.
Rocco sank to the ground beside him. He looked at Joe rubbing his feet and smiled. “That’s where being a barber gives you a break,” he said; “your feet get used to being stood on.”
“B. S.” Joe said. “You just ain’t human, thass all.”
Johnny grinned at him and rolled over to face Rocco. “Did yuh find out where at we goin’, Rock?”
Rock nodded his head slowly. “I think so. Some place along the Meuse River. The Argonne Forest or something.”
Joe held his feet up and looked at them. “Do you hear that, doggies?” he said to them. “Now we know where we goin’.”
Rocco continued as if Joe hadn’t interrupted him. “They say there’s a big push startin’ off up there.”
“How far off is it from here?” Johnny asked.
“About thirty, thirty-five miles,” Rocco answered.
Joe let out a groan and sank back on the grass. They lay there silently for a few minutes. The hum of an airplane motor turned their gaze skyward.
Johnny shaded his eyes and looked up. A gray-painted Spad with French colors was winging its way diagonally across the horizon. Idly their eyes followed it.
“It must be nice and cool up there,” Joe said enviously. “At least your feet don’t bother you.”
Johnny watched it. It was a graceful as a gull in a blue sky with the sunlight shimmering on it. Suddenly it veered sharply and came racing toward them. There was an element of frantic haste about the way it fled across the sky.
“I wonder what’s the matter with him?” Johnny asked.
The question was answered for him. In the sunlight behind the Spad were three red Fokkers with big black crosses painted on their wings. They were flying in tight formation over the little Spad.
The Dream Merchants Page 21