by Dean Hughes
“Yeah, that’s right. He wants Ken to teach him, so he can make it to the major leagues.”
Grandpa smiled, still looking straight ahead, holding the steering wheel with both hands. “That sounds like something Gordy would get into his head.”
“Is Ken mad at me?”
“Well, you know how these things are. He told me he said some things when he was angry, and then ten minutes later he knew he shouldn’t have. When I told Ken what happened at the dance, I could see how bad he felt. He wanted to find you more than anyone did.”
“Ken’s joining the army.”
“I know. But you’ve known that all along, haven’t you?”
“I guess.” But Jay hadn’t known, really—or hadn’t thought about it much. Not until this morning. “He thinks he’s going to be a hero, but he’ll probably get himself killed.”
Grandpa glanced over at him. “Is that one of the things you’re worrying about?”
“I don’t know. I guess.” But he hadn’t known he was worried about it—not until Grandpa had asked.
“Well, I know what you mean.” Grandpa let one elbow rest in the window of the old Buick, like he was starting to relax a little more. Wind was blowing his shirt, making his sleeve puff out. His white hair was blowing too. “It’s what we all worry about, Jay. We send these boys off, and we worry about all of them. It’s the worst thing anyone ever thought up, these wars we keep fighting.”
“Gordy wants to go to war. All the boys do.”
“Of course they do. They hear all this hero stuff, and they all think it’s a grand adventure. But the first time bullets fly, they learn fast. Ol’ Gordy’ll flatten himself out like a pancake once some shrapnel is flying around. Ken will too.”
“He wants to win medals, so people will like him and everything. And give him a good job.”
“I understand that, Jay. It’s what we’ve forced these Japanese boys to feel—that they have to prove themselves. But I’ll tell you what. It’s a sad way to go about it. What God wants is for us to stop shooting each other. That’s what I hope for you, that you never have to go to war.”
Jay thought about all that. He let the wind blow on him and fill up his ears with the noise, and he tried to think of Ken keeping low, not getting himself shot. Maybe he wouldn’t die. And he thought of Ken and Gordy together, searching in the desert all morning. He wished now that he’d never told Ken that Japs were chickens and they would all get sent back to Japan.
“That little Gleed girl. Elaine. She came over and asked about you too. I guess the word got around town pretty fast this morning that you were missing. It had to, once Gordy got telling everyone.”
“She came to our house?”
“She sure did. That’s a cute girl, I’ll tell you. And good as gold. She had a couple of the other girls from town with her, and they were all teary-eyed about you being dead out in the desert. Girls love a good drama, no matter what. I think Elaine has a little crush on you, though. You’re a handsome boy, Jay. Girls are always going to pay attention to you.”
“But what about me dancing with Ken? Did she say anything about that?”
“Not to me, she didn’t. I think you made too much of that, son. Ken told people about how he was just teaching you some dance steps. People understand something like that.”
Now Jay had a bunch more to think about. But he knew better than to let himself get too hopeful. He’d learned all his life that just when things started to look pretty good, they always took a turn back the other way.
Grandpa let a lot of time go by after that. Jay watched the blacktop road as it rose and fell over little ridges, rolling out ahead through the sagebrush and junipers, the red-rock cliffs showing here and there. He wanted to talk to Grandpa, maybe ask him something, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.
Finally Grandpa said, “You haven’t said how you feel about going home. Do you wish we hadn’t caught up with you?”
“No.”
“Where were you going?”
“California.”
“Just like all the kids around here. It’s always California. What did you think you would do out there?”
“Work, I guess. And maybe be a baseball player.”
Grandpa smiled a little, probably thinking that it was a silly idea—and one he’d gotten from Gordy. “All this because of this business about dancing with Ken!”
“Mostly.”
“What else?”
“Because of Mom maybe wanting to marry that Hal guy.”
“Well, see, that’s just what I thought. You got a lot of stuff piled on top of you, all at once. That’s more than one boy ought to have to carry. I can see where you thought you needed to make a break for it. But didn’t you know you’re too young to go off on your own?”
“I thought I wasn’t.”
“So what do you think now?”
“I don’t know.”
Grandpa took a longer look at him, then looked back at the road. “You’re not going to run off again, are you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I was scared the whole time I was gone.”
“Well, it’s good you learned that.” Grandpa drove for some time, watching ahead, but after a time he said, “Jay, I thought about a lot of things this morning. For one thing, you’ve been down here quite a while now, and I haven’t taken you fishing or anything like that—the things I did with my own boys. I should have been a little bit more of a father to you. It’s a hard thing for a boy not to have his father around. A lot of boys are facing that right now, but most of them aren’t left in limbo, not knowing one way or the other about their dads being alive.” Jay looked over at Grandpa, but he didn’t know what to say. “Would you like to go fishing some time?”
“I guess so. I haven’t gone for a long time.”
“Well, we’ll go. And I know some good places. Maybe we’ll camp out one night, over by Fish Lake or somewhere like that. We’ll catch us a mess of trout and eat ’em for breakfast, cooked over an open fire. You ever tasted anything like that?”
“No.”
“Well, there’s nothing better, and we’re going to do it. I’ll tell you something else. I was a heck of a ballplayer when I was a boy. I think you’ve got some of that in you, too. I can’t get out and run as fast as I used to, and I can’t pitch like I did at one time, but I know the grips and the motions. I can teach you plenty about throwing a curveball or a fastball that rises and makes a guy swing too low. Would you like to learn some things like that?”
Jay was smiling, just to think Grandpa knew that kind of stuff. “Sure.”
Grandpa reached over and patted him on the shoulder, then left his hand there for a while. Jay thought of his dad, how he never did anything like that.
“I want to tell you something else,” Grandpa said. “If you run away, it’s like telling everyone you did something wrong. And you didn’t. So here’s what I want you to do.”
Jay waited. He did need to know.
“You look people in the eye. That’s one thing you can learn from Ken. People call him a Jap and maybe don’t like to see him around town, but he looks people straight on, says hello all the same. You don’t see him looking ashamed of himself.”
“I know. That’s what he said I should do too.”
“And he’s right. Maybe you’re part Indian, and maybe some people think that means something. And maybe that Callister kid made fun of you. But people like him only win if you let ’em. You look people in the eye and don’t hang your head. You’ll be just fine.”
“Okay.” Jay nodded and told himself that was right. It’s what he would do.
“And don’t run away. That was the most foolish thing you could have done. If you’d made it to California, do you think that would’ve done any good?”
“I guess not.”
“Will you promise me never to do that again?”
“Yes. I promise.” He thought of Myrna.
CHAPTER 16
WHEN JAY AND GRANDPA GOT home, Grandma was in the kitchen, fixing dinner. She said that Jay’s mom had gone to work once she’d found out Jay was all right. He was glad, in a way, that she wasn’t there—and maybe mad at him. He was hoping to go off to his room, since he didn’t really want to see anyone. He knew Grandpa was right, that he had to look everyone in the eye, but he was scared to get started.
“I decided to cook my Sunday roast today,” Grandma told him. “With lots of potatoes and gravy, because I know you like that. But maybe I should have fixed you bread and water, and maybe I should give you a darned good spanking. We were awfully worried about you, Jay.” She was stirring the gravy, but she put her spoon down and walked to him. Then she pulled him to her and held him tight for a long time. “Don’t ever scare us like that again. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Were you mad at us?”
“No. I just . . .” But Jay had no idea what to tell her.
“It never does any good to run away from things. Do you know that?”
“Yeah. Grandpa already told me that.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Yeah.”
He was glad she didn’t ask any more questions. He got away and went to his room. He was dead tired, and dirty from falling down in the desert and riding on the train. He wanted to take a bath.
But he had no more than pulled off his boots when Grandma called down the hall, “Jay, there’s someone here to see you.”
He thought about yelling to her that he was already in the tub, but she knew that wasn’t true. He walked down the hall in his stocking feet and saw Gordy standing just inside the front door. Ken was right behind him.
“Hey, Chief,” Gordy called out, “welcome home. Glad to know you’re not dead and eaten up by coyotes.” He laughed, making that sound like rocks were in his throat.
Jay didn’t want to smile, but he did.
“Me and Ken looked for you all morning. We tried to track you. We even found your hat. I told Ken your footprints stopped at the train tracks and you must’ve jumped a train. He didn’t believe me. But what does he know? He grew up in California. He doesn’t know one thing about the desert.”
“I only know about important things,” said Ken, but he wasn’t laughing as much as Gordy was.
“Hey, guess what?” Gordy said.
But Grandma was calling, “Hey, boys, you don’t have to stand there in the hall. Sit down in the living room.”
“I’m too dirty,” Jay said.
“Well, come in here, then.”
So they walked into the kitchen and sat at the table, Ken and Gordy on one side and him on the other.
“I’ll get you some grape juice,” Grandma said, and she headed toward the cellar door.
“Guess what I’m going to do?” said Gordy. “After the war, I’m going out to San Francisco. Ken’s going to show me the Golden Gate Bridge and all that other stuff. I’m going to learn how to be cool, too, like Ken.” He let his head bob slowly up and down a couple of times, like maybe he thought that was part of being cool.
Jay knew Gordy liked learning baseball from Ken, but he hadn’t thought they’d ever get to be friends.
“Cool maybe,” Ken said, “but never as cool as me.” But then his face started to look more serious, and he said, “Sorry about those things I said this morning, Jay.”
Jay looked at the table. “I was the one who said all the bad stuff. I was mad.”
“I know. I know about everything that happened.”
“Hey, guess what?” Gordy said. “When we were out there looking for you this morning and couldn’t figure out where you’d gone, we got talking about how you danced with Elaine, and how she was getting all sweet on you and everything, so Ken showed me how to jitterbug. I’m getting pretty good. I’m going to win Elaine back, next dance.”
Ken was laughing now. He gave Gordy a little push on the shoulder. “You’re not that good,” he said.
“Did you know Ken’s going in the army?” Gordy said. “He’ll be killing Krauts before the year’s out.”
“I know,” Jay said.
“Soon as I can, that’s what I’m going to do too,” Gordy went on. “Maybe we could go together, if the war lasts long enough—and kill Krauts together.”
Jay noticed that Gordy didn’t say he wanted to kill Japs, the way he usually did.
Jay had been thinking about the things Grandpa had told him—about being scared and getting flat on the ground when bullets started flying. He’d remembered about shooting birds and horny toads, and not liking to kill things. He didn’t think he wanted to go to war. But he didn’t say that.
“Then after the war, we’ll play more ball and make it to the majors, like we talked about. Oh, and hey, we’re going to play that ball game out at the camp next week. That’s for sure now. I was worried this morning you wouldn’t get back, and we wouldn’t have a chance without you.” Gordy laughed again, hard, and slapped the table. “That was one of the bad things about you gettin’ yourself eaten up by coyotes.”
Ken played like he was knocking Gordy over the head. “Nice way to talk,” he said.
“You’re going to play, aren’t you?” Gordy asked Jay.
“I guess so.” But Jay wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what the other boys were thinking about him. They weren’t like Gordy.
“Ken says his boys can beat us, and he might be right—’cause we got some boneheads on our team—but we’ll go down fighting, won’t we?”
Jay looked at Ken. “How soon are you leaving for the army?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’ll sign up on my birthday, and then I have to go up to Salt Lake to be processed. It’ll be a month or so before I leave.”
Grandma was back with the grape juice. She said, “Is one of you boys strong enough to open this bottle?”
Ken stood up and reached for the bottle, and he twisted the lid off, easy. But Jay was still thinking that Ken would be gone soon, and maybe he was going to try too hard to be a hero. “Are you going to work on the farm until you go?” Jay asked.
“Probably so. I don’t have anything better to do.”
Jay was glad to hear that.
Grandma was pouring the grape juice. “You boys rest a little here for a minute and drink this juice. Then why don’t you stay and have dinner with us?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” said Gordy. “Whatever you’re cooking sure smells good.”
“Maybe I better not,” Ken said.
But Grandma said, “I know what you’re thinking. But don’t worry about it. You’re always welcome with us.”
“All right, then. I know you’re the best cook in Delta. Everyone says that.”
“More blarney,” she said. She patted his cheek, almost like he was her grandson too. “Jay, you better get into the tub now, before dinner.”
He agreed, but as he got up to leave, Gordy said, “Hey, Jay, did you really jump a train?”
“Yeah.”
“How come you got off in Milford?”
“We got kicked off.”
“What do you mean, ‘we’?”
“Some guys were riding in the boxcar. I didn’t know it until I got on.”
“What? Hoboes?”
“Sort of. They were guys going to California to get work. One was a drunk. Maybe all of ’em were.”
“Oh, man, I wish I’d gone with you. Why don’t we do it together one of these days before school starts? We could jump a train, ride down to Milford, then jump another one and ride back.”
Jay was looking at his grandma, who was shaking her head, looking serious. “I almost didn’t make it on. I jumped, and I didn’t get all the way in, and one of those guys had to pull me on. I might’ve gone under the train wheels if he hadn’t grabbed my arm.”
Now Grandma was looking about ready to pass out, and Gordy was grinning wide. “Hey, man, you gotta tell us everything. Nobody around here ever did anything like that. You’ll be famous.”
“What about all the boys on the team? What are they saying about me?” Jay asked.
“You mean about dancing with Ken?”
Jay nodded.
“I just told ’em to shut their mouths. And they did. It’s just one guy showing another guy something—like a coach teaching baseball, or something like that.”
That didn’t sound so bad. “Thanks,” he said to Gordy.
But Gordy just shrugged, like he didn’t know what Jay was talking about.
Later, everyone ate dinner. Mom came home, and she ate with them. She even talked to Ken some. Maybe she wanted to show Ken that she didn’t mind doing that—since he’d looked for Jay and everything.
Gordy wanted to play baseball afterward, but Jay said he didn’t want to. He just wanted to rest up.
He went down to his room after Ken and Gordy left, and he sat on his bed. He tried to think how he felt about everything now. After a while his mom came to his open door. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
“How are you feeling?” She stopped in the doorway, the way she usually did.
“Tired, mostly.”
“I guess you didn’t feel like playing ball tonight.”
“I’ll play next week.”
“Are you thinking like Gordy, that you want to play in the major leagues?”
“Sure. But every kid thinks that. Not many can make it.”
Her voice was quiet tonight. She walked over and sat on the bed next to him. She had fixed her hair nice for dinner and put on lipstick, just like when Hal Duncan had been there.
“Some people think they have to be big shots to be happy. Baseball players, or something like that. But it’s not that important. Look at Grandma and Grandpa, how happy they are.”
“Grandpa’s kind of a big shot.”
Mom let out a little burst of air, a kind of laugh. “I guess,” she said. “A big shot in Delta. But mostly he just loves every single person in town, so they all love him back.”
“He blesses them too.”
“Yes, he does. He puts his hands on their heads and pronounces blessings—but he does a lot of other things for people too.” She slipped her arm around his shoulders.
“You said you got so you didn’t like him when you were a kid.”