by Dean Hughes
“All right, I suppose. I met with a broken-hearted young woman though. She’s only been married a couple of years, and her husband walked out on her—just took off.”
“What did you do?”
“Not much I could do. She’s a nice girl; it’s not her fault. Mostly, I let her get it all off her chest, and then I tried to make her feel like the end of the world hasn’t come. She seemed to feel a lot better by the time she left.”
Sister Thomas decided her husband was in a pretty good state of mind after all, and she had better not pass up her chance. “Al, I had a long talk with Bobbi this afternoon. I need to fill you in on what’s happening.”
“Happening?”
“Yes. I know, when I tell you about this, you’ll tend to feel that it can’t work. But after listening to her whole—”
“Bea, tell me what you’re talking about.”
“But you have to listen and not just react.”
“I never just react,” he said. And he laughed at himself.
Sister Thomas looked toward him. The light was almost gone now, and she was rather glad she wouldn’t have to see his face. “You remember Dr. Stinson, the English professor Bobbi got to know this last year?”
“‘Got to know’ is one way to put it. It’s his fault Bobbi
didn’t marry Phil.” President Thomas had had a man-to-man talk with Phil, which had served mainly as a chance for President Thomas to apologize on behalf of his family, but it was then Phil had claimed that things had gone fine until Dr. Stinson had gotten close to Bobbi and had become a bad influence on her.
“Well, anyway,” Sister Thomas said, not wanting to get into all that, “he’s gone now, as you know. He’s in Chicago. But before he left, he proposed to Bobbi.”
“Oh, for crying out loud. I would hope Bobbi had enough sense to tell that guy to kick a rock down the road.”
“He’s actually a fine young man, Al. He’s considered quite brilliant, and he took a job at one of the best universities in the country. His future is—”
“Bea, don’t start this. The man is not a member of the Church, and he’s probably as godless as most of those professors the U keeps shipping in here from the East.”
“Not really. He was raised in a religious family, and he gained great respect for the Church while he was here.”
President Thomas stood up. He reached over and flipped the porch light on. “Are you trying to tell me that Bobbi wants to marry this guy?”
“Just listen for a minute. He’s willing to join the Church. He likes what the Church stands for, and he would be glad to be part of it.”
“Listen to yourself, Bea. What kind of commitment is that? Like he’s doing us a favor.” President Thomas tossed his coat on the love seat, and he pushed his hands into his pants pockets. “We don’t need some half-committed Jack Mormon in the family. Is that the sort of man we want to raise our grandkids?”
“I’m not saying he would be our choice, Al. In a way, he isn’t what Bobbi has had in mind either. But things happen, and her feelings are very strong for him. She’s never known such a kindred spirit, someone she can share so much with.”
“Bea, are you talking Greek or Chinese? I don’t seem to understand a word you’re saying.” He banged the side of his head with his hand. “Maybe my ears aren’t working right.”
“Al, please. Stop and think for a minute. Bishop Findlay’s daughter married out of the Church, and everyone felt bad for her. But after a year or so, her husband joined, and he’s strong in the Church now. At least David is willing to join, and his commitment may well deepen as time goes by.”
“Or last about as long as the honeymoon.” He had begun to pace back and forth in front of his wife.
“What I’m trying to tell you is that Bobbi has fallen in love. David isn’t from one of the families around here; he isn’t the young man we would have chosen. But we might have to accept him, because Bobbi is thinking very seriously of marrying him.”
“And she’s going to do what she wants to do, regardless of what we have to say about it. Is that the idea?”
“I just think that if we handle this right, maybe she’ll stay close to us, and David will be active in the Church. If we force her to take a stand, she’ll resent it, and so will her husband, and we’ll lose contact with them.”
“So it’s a done deal, and all you’re trying to do is get me to buy into it?”
“No. She’s thinking. And I do think she wants our understanding and help. But if you throw a tantrum, you’ll lose all chance to have a say in this.”
Sister Thomas had spoken to her lap, carefully and slowly, choosing her words. Now she looked up. President Thomas was smiling just a little, ironically. “So you think I’m a bull searching for a china shop, do you?”
“Those are your words, not mine.”
“Bea, I don’t know how to soft-pedal things. I fight for the things I believe in. I don’t bargain them away.”
“But this isn’t a fight.”
President Thomas took a long look at his wife, his hands still on his hips, but finally he picked up his coat and sat down. “So what do you think? Do you want her to marry him?”
“No.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“Well . . . no. I tried to help her think about the implications of her choice.”
“Maybe you’d better handle this.”
“No, Al. She wants to talk to you. She doesn’t want to do this behind your back.”
“But what can I say to her? You know how I feel.”
“Al, she feels that David is her only chance for happiness. That may be wrong, but we can’t say, ‘Choose unhappiness.’ We have to offer something more than that.”
“Oh, Bea. I don’t think I’m up to this.”
***
Wally was working for Mat again this summer, but one June afternoon, he got off his tractor and got himself a cold drink from a pump at the top of the orchard. He was dead tired, and so he stretched out on the grass and shut his eyes for a moment. When he felt a kick on his boot and heard Mat’s voice, he realized he had fallen asleep, but he also knew that time had passed.
Wally sat up, gave his head a quick shake, and then got to his feet. “I’m sorry, Mat.”
“Wally, this happened before, and you know what I told you.”
“Yeah, I do. But don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
Mat was a kind man, but Wally could see that look—almost like President Thomas’s—that said he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with this time. “You worked hard for me last summer, Wally. But this year you show up looking like you haven’t slept, and you go about your day like you’re only half here.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to start getting to bed earlier.” Wally ran his hand over his back and down his legs, brushing away the dead leaves and dried grass that clung to his overalls.
Mat was looking at Wally closely, as though he were trying to figure out what was going on inside him. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I told you when I caught you sleeping before that I wouldn’t put up with it a second time. You’re fired.”
“Oh, come on, Mat. Don’t do that. Can’t you just dock my check for the time I missed? Or dock me the whole day?”
“Wally, this is not about the time. This is about honor.”
“Oh, come on. I slipped up a couple of times, but I’ve worked hard for you.”
Mat turned away. “Come down to the barn. I’ll pay you what I owe you.” He walked ahead, down between the rows of cherry trees.
Wally said to his back, “This is ridiculous.” But that’s not what he was thinking. He respected Mat, and he was humiliated to be dismissed this way. And more than anything, he was sick at the thought of going home to tell his father. So, along the way, he made his decision. He waited and watched Mat look through the time sheets and write out a check, and then he said. “Maybe this is good, Mat.” He tucked the check into his pocket. “I’ve been saying for a long time that
I was going to get out of here. Now I’m going to do it. I’m joining the navy.”
The barn was fairly dark, but a narrow shaft of light was falling across Mat’s shoulder. Wally could see in Mat’s eyes how bad he felt to be doing this. “Why the military?” Mat asked.
“I want to go somewhere, see some new things.”
“You might see war.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I don’t want to join the army. I don’t want to crawl around on the ground with a rifle.”
“Wally, if we fight Japan, the navy will be right in the middle of it.”
“Japan?” Wally knew how Japan had been expanding its empire, pushing onto the mainland and into some of the islands. But he had never thought much about going to war with Japan.
“I think it will happen, sooner or later.”
“Why? I don’t understand what’s going on over there.”
“Militants have control of Japan. They’ve convinced the people that it’s Japan’s divine destiny to expand its power.”
“That sounds like something Hitler would say.”
“Maybe. But it’s sincere. The Shinto religion teaches that Japan has a divine place in history. People there don’t like the way western nations take advantage of Asia—always coming in to colonize and take control.”
“So the Japanese want to take control instead?”
“They say they want to create a ‘co-prosperity sphere’ for all Asians. They feel it’s their fate—to show the way.”
“So they attack China? Some way to lead. Where do they get off thinking they’re better than other people?”
“Wally, almost all people think they’re better than someone. Don’t you think you’re better than a Jap?”
“Come on, Mat. Don’t say that.”
“But don’t you? Maybe you think of me differently. But what do you think of most Japanese?”
Wally was embarrassed. “I guess I haven’t thought about it,” he said, but he knew he didn’t sound convincing.
“The point is, Japan feels justified in what it’s doing, and it isn’t likely to pull out of China—or agree to the other American demands. At some point, the U.S. will put its foot down, but I doubt Japan will back off—and that could mean war.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Japan isn’t my country, but it breaks my heart to see this happening. Most Japanese believe in Buddhism as well as Shinto. Right now the militants are twisting Buddhism to their own purposes, but that’s not the religion I learned from my father. He was a gentle man, and generous. Most of the Japanese I know are like that. I hate to think what will happen to so many good people—on both sides—if we go to war.”
All this was rather unnerving to Wally. He had thought a lot about joining the navy but very little about fighting. “Well,” he said, “if a war comes, I’ll get drafted anyway. So I’m no worse off if I’m already in the service.”
“My father taught me to ask about the essence of things. I always ask myself exactly what I want when I choose an action. Have you thought about the military that way?”
“Not really.”
“Wally, you need to know what you’re looking for before you begin your search.”
“I want to start over—that’s the main thing. And this is the only way I know how to do it.”
“Life doesn’t start over. One step follows another.”
Wally wasn’t sure what that meant. “I guess I need to think about that,” he said.
“But you won’t, Wally. You’re moving ahead blindly. I hope you open your eyes soon—or something opens them for you.”
Wally sensed that Mat was probably right about that, but he didn’t say so. “Well, anyway, I’m sorry about what happened. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
Mat nodded. “I hope things go well for you, Wally. When you find out what life means to you, come back and tell me.”
“Okay.” Wally walked from the barn, but the closer he got to his car, the deeper he felt his shame. Mat had deserved more than Wally had given him, and he knew it.
Wally didn’t go home. He drove to the Do Drop Inn and killed the afternoon, and then he went home at his normal time. He said nothing about getting fired, and as soon as dinner was over he drove to Lorraine’s and asked her to go for a ride with him. She hesitated at first, but he told her he had to talk to her about something, briefly, and she agreed.
“What’s this all about?” Lorraine asked as soon as Wally got into the car.
“I’m trying to make a decision. I need to know something.”
“Okay.” She sounded a little wary.
“Lorraine, if I buckle down and prove to you that I can do well in school, would you . . .” Wally knew he couldn’t ask it that way. She was staring forward, stiff and uncomfortable. It was all too clear to him what she would say. “What I’m asking is, are you holding out any thought that you might marry me someday—if I finally get my life going the way it ought to?”
Lorraine continued to look forward, and for the moment, she didn’t answer. She was working as a waitress this summer, and she had cut her hair shorter than ever before because of the heat in the little restaurant, but Wally looked at the luster, the oak color, and he longed to touch it, longed to have her turn to him and say, “That’s what I want more than anything.”
“Wally, I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t think you’ll ever change. You’re always resolving to buckle down, but you never do. And I don’t see any sign that I can hope for something better in the future.”
“If I knew you were going to marry me someday, I’d have a goal. I could do it then. The only thing I want, Lorraine, is to be with you the rest of my life.”
“Not for eternity?”
“Of course for eternity. That’s what I meant.”
“But that’s not what you said, Wally. Religion is always an afterthought to you.”
“Okay. Fine. I have my answer. Now I can move forward.”
“And do what?”
“I’m going to join the navy—the way I should have done a year ago.”
The whole thing was finally over. Wally made a U-turn and drove back to Lorraine’s house. He dropped her off without saying another word. Then he had a good talk with himself. He didn’t need Lorraine, and he didn’t have to mope around and feel sorry for himself. He was going to go see the world, and the idea was exciting. Now he just needed to get Mel on board.
Chapter 24
The next day, Friday, Wally got up and put his overalls on, and he pretended to go to work. But he took some street clothes with him, and he changed at Mel’s house, and the two drove downtown. They parked outside the Federal Building, and then they walked in and found the navy recruiting office.
The only problem was, a sign was hanging on the door: “Open at 1:00 p.m.” Wally and Mel were about to leave when a man across the hallway stuck his head out the door. “Sorry, fellows, Jim had to go out for a while this morning. He told me to watch for anyone coming by. Have you got your minds made up on the navy?”
“Yes, I think so,” Wally said.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t want to crawl in the mud.”
“How about flying? I’m with the Army Air Corps. That’s where all the opportunities are these days.”
What happened in the next half hour was magical to Wally. This man—Sergeant Martella—had all the facts and figures. He said the air corps was young and growing, and the opportunities for advancement were ten times better than in the army or navy. And yet there were air bases all over, so the chances to see the world were just as good.
“We have a terrible shortage of airplane mechanics in this country,” he told the boys. “But you might want to fly a plane rather than maintain it. Once you’re in, a couple of intelligent young fellows like you—college men—could apply for officer’s school and then get pilot training.”
The idea of flying an airplane almost took Wally’s breath away. But Mel said, �
��Mostly, I just came along with Wally. I think I’m going to stay in college.”
“Okay. But let me give you one thing to think about.” The sergeant was a dark-complexioned man with thick hair on his hands and tufts of hair jutting from his nostrils. “You are going into the military. The only question is when you’ll go. We’re already in this war, right up to here.” He held his hand just under his nose. “Every healthy guy your age is going to go. The ones who get in first will be the ones with the advantage.”
Mel didn’t argue. In fact, he nodded, as though that made sense to him.
“I’ll tell you something else,” Sergeant Martella said. “Roosevelt is putting most of his defense budget into airplanes. So the air corps is going to keep growing.”
“I can see that,” Wally said. He looked at Mel. “I think this is the way to go.”
“Okay. Here’s the thing,” the sergeant said. “You boys are old enough to sign, but don’t do anything until you’ve thought about it. Take these papers home, and use the weekend to talk things over with your families. Just don’t wait too long. We have a quota, and it’s almost filled for this month.”
“Maybe we should sign now,” Wally said.
“I can’t do that,” Mel said. “I’ve got to talk to my dad.”
“That’s exactly right,” Sergeant Martella said. “But remember, I can’t say for sure you can get in. There’s a physical and some exams you have to pass. We don’t just take everyone who comes along.”
Wally wanted more than ever to sign, but he decided he would break the news to his dad and then come back on Monday. He just hoped Mel wouldn’t lose his nerve. So Wally talked hard as he drove Mel home—extracted something of a promise from him that the two would join together—and then he drove to his dad’s dealership. He found President Thomas sitting at his desk, processing paperwork, as usual.
“Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.