Missing in Action

by Dean Hughes

  “No, I didn’t say that. I wanted to do whatever I had a mind to do, and he kept telling me I was making the wrong choices. I didn’t like that, but I knew every second of every day that he loved me anyway. The same with my mom. It’s why I could finally come home when things got bad for us.”

  “It’s not too bad to be down here.”

  She tightened her grip on him, and when he looked at her, she was smiling. “That’s not what you said last night.”

  “I know.”

  “This has been a hard summer for us, hasn’t it?”

  “You were worried a lot, I guess.”

  “Mostly I’m just impatient. I want to know for sure about your dad, one way or the other, and we just don’t hear anything.”

  “Do you still think he could be alive somewhere?”

  “No, I don’t. But I miss him more than you might think. We love him, don’t we?”

  “Sometimes I hated him.”

  “I know. But let’s love him now. Let’s remember the best things.”

  “Okay.” That was what Jay wanted to do. But he didn’t want to cry, and he was starting to do that. His mom seemed to know, and she wrapped both arms around him.

  “It might be a long wait before we know anything for sure,” she said. “But that’s just how things are. And it’s what we have to accept.”

  “I know.” He pulled back a little. He didn’t want her to think he was being a baby about everything.

  But she turned his chin so she could look at him. “Are you worried what people will say to you about Ken?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Look ’em in the eye. That’s what Grandpa said.”

  “He’s right, too. It’ll all blow over in a few days. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it will.”

  He looked toward the wall, away from his mom. “Some people don’t like Indians.”

  “But we don’t have to worry about ‘some people,’ do we?”

  “I guess not.”

  “I’m sorry about the way I treated Ken. I guess I was being ‘some people’ myself.”

  Jay was glad she could think that way.

  Mom got up and walked to the door, but then she turned around and leaned against the frame. “Jay, I’m sorry. I haven’t been much of a mom to you this summer. I’ve spent too much time feeling sorry for myself.”

  Jay knew what she meant, but he didn’t know what to tell her.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think today,” she said. She looked away, like she was thinking again. She was wearing a summer dress, light as air, yellow with little white dots. She looked sad, though. “You’re growing up now, Jay. I want to be honest with you from now on. For a long time I didn’t want to say anything about your father because I knew how much you loved him. I wanted you to be proud of him.”

  “I used to hate him when he’d hit you. I wanted to hit him back, but I was too little.” Jay felt his voice starting to shake, and he looked away again.

  “I know. And I wanted to stop him when he would hurt you, but I was too scared of him.”

  He looked back at her. “Scared?”

  “When he was mad, I never knew what he might do.”

  He hadn’t thought of that—that she was scared too. “Why didn’t you leave him? We could have moved down here.”

  Two tears slipped over the curve of her cheekbones and slid slowly down her face. “I don’t know, Jay. Every time I thought of it, I could only think of coming back here and admitting I’d been wrong all along. But I loved your dad too—even after he did all those things to us. He was always sorry after he hurt us, and he’d promise not to do it again. I wanted to believe him, so I stayed.”

  “You used to tell me that he was a good man, and I shouldn’t hate him.”

  “I know. And it’s still true. He could be so good. And he was funny and full of life. I still love him, Jay. Even if he’s dead, I love him.”

  There was something Jay had always known he should tell her. “One night, when you were working, he brought a woman home with him. They were drunk, I think, and they were laughing, and he kept saying to be quiet so she wouldn’t wake me up.”

  She slowly lowered her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know you had to put up with something like that. And I didn’t know how many times he’d gone out with other women until I started hearing things after he was in the navy. But that’s another reason I should have left him.”

  “He’s not coming back, though, is he?”

  “No. He’s not.”

  Jay tried to think how he felt about that, but it was Myrna who came to his mind. “I met a Navajo woman down in Milford. She knew Dad’s family. She said he came from good people—chiefs and wise men.”

  “And that’s how we’re going to remember him. Maybe if he’d had another chance, he would have done better. That’s what we’ll always think, anyway.”

  Jay wanted to do that. But the thoughts never went away—the memories of the way he would yell and swear, and the things he would say. “He used to tell me I was worthless. I didn’t even know what it meant, but I hated when he said that.” Jay had been fighting not to cry, but now he bent forward, cupped his hands to his face, and finally couldn’t hold back.

  His mom came back to him and took him in her arms. “Don’t remember that,” she said. “When he was angry, he would say things that he didn’t mean. He loved you, Jay. No matter what he ever said, just remember that. He loved you more than anyone.”

  Jay didn’t know if it was true. But he was glad he had finally told her, and glad his mom was holding him.

  “We’re going to be okay, Jay. I’m going to stand up tall for once in my life, and I’m going to be more what I ought to be. I’m going to be a better mother to you.”

  “Are you going to marry Hal?”

  Mom took hold of Jay’s shoulders and held him away from her, so she could look into his face. “I don’t know, Jay. I’ve told him that we’re just friends for now—until I know for certain about your dad. But I would never marry him until you were okay with it.”

  “Is he a nice guy?”

  “He is, Jay. I think you would like him. He likes to fish, and he likes baseball. He was a good ballplayer in high school, pretty much the best at every sport. Maybe he could coach your baseball team.” She laughed. “I think you need someone besides Gordy.”

  Jay wasn’t sure about that. He still didn’t like to think about Hal coming to see his mom.

  “Would it be all right if I ask him to help you guys?” his mom said.

  “I guess.” He didn’t like the idea, but he told himself he had to do what Ken always said to do: make the best of the situation, whether he liked it or not.

  CHAPTER 17

  ON SUNDAY HAL CAME OVER to the house for dinner. Jay didn’t talk to him much, but when he offered to help coach Jay’s team, he said that would be okay. He figured Mom had said something to him or he never would have thought of the idea. But when they talked a little baseball, Hal seemed to know what he was talking about. He couldn’t come over every night, he said, but he’d come as often as he could.

  “You and Ken could coach us together until Ken leaves,” Jay said. “He can’t come every night either.”

  So that was how it was left. Hal would help coach, and he would go with them to the game next Saturday. Ken would be there too—but for that day, he would be coaching the other team.

  On Monday Jay went back to work on the farm. He and Ken. They were still fixing fences, stretching wire and putting in new posts that had fallen down or broken off. Ken used the tractor to pull the wire sometimes, and the two got a lot done. Toward the end of the day, they took a break and drank some water. Ken was sitting on the tractor. Jay was standing by the fence, his elbow hooked over a fence post.

  “Are you excited to get out of here?” he asked Ken.

  “Sort of. It’s a good time for me to go. You’re going back to school be
fore too long, and I would have been out here all by myself. I would have hated that.”

  Jay nodded, but he didn’t know how to say what he was thinking. So instead he asked, “Are you sort of scared about going into the army?”

  Ken leaned forward with his arms resting on top of the steering wheel. He was wearing big leather gloves that looked almost like baseball gloves. “I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve been anxious to sign up for a long time. But now, with the time coming up fast, it’s kind of different.”

  “What’s so different?”

  Ken looked over him, above his head. “I always say how brave I’ll be, but maybe I won’t be brave at all. I don’t know if you can know that until the time comes.”

  “I’ll bet you will be. You’ll probably get a bunch of medals.”

  Ken didn’t answer that.

  “Grandpa said, when bullets start flying, everyone gets scared.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard too. But I’d hate myself if I turned into a chicken.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Maybe I won’t be a hero, though.”

  “You don’t have to be one, do you? Just being a good soldier is okay. You don’t have to win medals.”

  “Guys like me have to. We have to prove ourselves.”

  “But it’s stupid just to run out somewhere and get killed.”

  “I won’t do that.”

  “It scares me that you will.” Now it was Jay who couldn’t look at Ken.

  “You mean, get myself killed the way your dad did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll play it smart. Don’t worry about that.”

  Jay pulled his gloves off and acted like it was important to take a good look at them.

  “This has been a bad time for me, Jay. I hate living out at Topaz, and I hate having everyone stare at me in town. That’s why I want an American uniform. People can stare if they want, but at least they’ll know I’m fighting for us, not them.”

  “But don’t take a bunch of chances.”

  “Okay. I’d rather not die, if you want to know the truth.” Ken smiled. “How come you didn’t mind working with me, Jay?”

  “I don’t know. It turned out you were just a regular guy.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m the coolest guy you ever met.”

  “Yeah.” But when he said it, Jay felt tears coming, and he turned away. He pretended he needed to get some more water, and he walked back to the house.

  • • •

  Hal came to practice Monday night, and Ken came some of the nights that week too. The boys didn’t get a whole lot better, but they learned a few things. They started running the bases better, and the outfielders learned which guy to throw the ball to after somebody got a hit.

  On Saturday, Hal and Gordy’s dad drove cars out to Topaz, so the boys didn’t have to take the bus. Gordy’s mom almost had a stroke about that, but Brother Linebaugh said he’d always wanted to take a look at the camp for himself.

  Jay had heard all about Topaz, but he was surprised by what it was really like. The houses were long wooden buildings, like army barracks, with only tar paper on the outside. They sat in rows and in blocks, reaching way out a mile each way. Out beyond the wire fences there was nothing but desert, not one tree anywhere. He saw all the gray dirt, like powder, that Ken had told him about, even saw how it could blow when a breeze would kick up. He noticed, too, the way people had done their best to make things look nice: with greasewood cut to look like decorations and white rocks set out to line the walkways.

  It was a sad-looking place, in a way, but the people didn’t look down in the mouth. When the boys reached the baseball field, in the center of the camp, a lot of the people from the camp had come over to watch. There were teenagers in bunches, and lots of parents, some of them sitting on a little set of bleachers.

  “Hey, look at that girl,” Gordy said. “Wow. She’s a knockout.”

  There was a girl in a black skirt, about knee length, with a sleeveless blouse. She had her hair in a ponytail. She was cute. So were a lot of the girls. Some of them were doing cheers, yelling that their team was going to win. It was sort of like going over to the high school in Delta—except for the dirt and the tar-paper barracks.

  “Come with me for a second,” Ken said to Jay. The two walked down a dirt street past maybe a dozen of the barracks, and then Ken turned in at one. He knocked on a door at one end, then opened the door and said, “Ma, are you here?”

  Jay heard a high-pitched voice answer, but not in English. Ken walked in, and then held the door for Jay. He stepped into a little square room with a coal stove on one side and a bed on the other. There were blankets hanging up, making walls. There were two wooden chairs, and a box that looked liked it had been made from scrap lumber. It was a table, kind of, with shelves underneath. Everything was pushed together close, so there was hardly any room.

  “This is Jay,” Ken said in English to his mother. “The boy I work with.”

  The woman bowed from the waist. “So happy to meet you,” she said, and now she sounded like Jay’s mom or his grandma. She could speak English and Japanese. She was smiling, too, and her smile was like Ken’s. She was dressed like Jay’s mother, in a housedress with little flowers on it, but her hair was more fancy, sort of wound up on her head.

  He didn’t know what to do. He bowed a little himself. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

  “Is Father going to the game?” she asked Ken.

  “Yes.”

  One of the blankets moved, and a man stepped through. “Good morning,” he said. “How are you?”

  “This is Jay,” said Ken.

  Ken’s father didn’t bow. He reached out his hand. “Very nice to meet you,” he said, and it sounded important, the way a mayor, or someone like that, might talk. But it sounded almost like Japanese, too—not as American as the way Ken spoke. “Would you like to sit down? I’m sorry we have so little room here.”

  “It’s okay, Dad,” Ken said. “We have to get over to the game. I just wanted Jay to meet you, and I wanted to be sure you were coming.”

  “Yes. I will come.”

  “Dad likes baseball,” Ken told Jay. “He goes to a lot of the games.”

  His father smiled and bowed his head. “Yes,” he said.

  “Jay’s a very good player,” said Ken. “Very good. We work together at the farm, too.”

  “Yes,” Ken’s father said again.

  “And he’s my best friend—my very best friend.”

  Jay nodded. But he hadn’t known that.

  “After the war, we’ll be friends again. I promised him I’ll be careful and not get hurt. The same as I promised you.” Ken put his hand on Jay’s shoulder, left it there. And as they walked back toward the diamond, he still had his hand on Jay’s shoulder. And he told him something. “I wanted you to see how we live—how things are in those barracks. I don’t think many people in Delta know about that.”

  “It’s crowded up, really bad.”

  “My two sisters sleep together behind some of those blankets, and my parents sleep behind the other ones. I sleep in that room you saw, when I’m there. The heat from the stove gets to me, but not to them. In the winter, they almost freeze.”

  “It doesn’t seem right to crowd up people like that.”

  Ken stopped and looked at him. “It isn’t right. Remember that—and maybe you could tell some people.”

  “Okay.”

  • • •

  When the game started, Gordy pitched. Jay played shortstop. Hal was the coach, but Ken came over and said, “Hey, have a good game, you guys. Remember the stuff we’ve been teaching you.”

  But the game didn’t start very well. The Delta boys—they’d decided to call themselves the Rabbits, because that was what they would all be at Delta High—were up first. The Topaz team had a pitcher who didn’t look big enough to throw very hard, but it turned out he could fire a good fastball, and he had a curve, too.

  The first t
wo Rabbits struck out. Jay came up next. He let a couple of pitches go by, just to see if he could get ahead of the pitcher. The trouble was, both pitches got called strikes. Gordy was in the on-deck circle—or at least where one should have been. He yelled, after the second pitch, “Hey, ump, are you blind? Both those pitches almost hit the dirt.”

  People in the bleachers didn’t yell back at him, but Jay heard some of them laugh, like they figured Gordy didn’t know what he was talking about.

  Jay swung at the third pitch and at least got some wood on it. He bounced a grounder toward the second baseman, who scooped it up like a pro and flipped it over to first before he was halfway down the baseline. That was the end of the first inning for the Rabbits.

  Gordy took a pounding. He was trying to throw too hard, and he was throwing wild. He walked two batters, and then he started aiming his pitches, trying to throw strikes, and the Topaz guys started hitting shots all over the place. Jay made two good plays at shortstop, both on ground balls, or the inning might have gone on the rest of the day. When a guy finally hit a pop-up and Gordy waved everyone off and caught it himself, the inning was finally over, but the score was 8–0.

  Gordy started out the next inning and acted like a big leaguer, knocking dirt off his shoes with his bat and spitting on his hands. But he swung three times and never touched the ball. It was three up, three down for the Rabbits again.

  When Gordy walked back to the mound, he yelled to his teammates, “Come on, now. Let’s show these guys we can play this game.”

  That caused more of the people in the crowd to laugh. Jay saw the people in the bleachers talking to one another and smiling. He could tell they didn’t think much of the team from town. Hal was clapping and calling out, “Buckle down now, boys. Let’s get some outs.”

  One thing Jay had learned, Hal did know a lot about baseball. He was kind of fun, too. He liked to make jokes and everything. Gordy liked him—even though Gordy still thought he was the boss of everyone.

  The guy who played first base, quite a tall guy, was coming up to bat. “What are you grinning about?” Gordy yelled at him.

  “At you. And that pitch you call a fastball.”