Miss Dimple Rallies to the Cause

by Mignon F. Ballard

  The dark interior of the General Forrest Hotel felt cool after the heat of a September afternoon, and the two couples were seated at a table in the corner. A bowl of pink roses sat in the center of the table that was covered in a spotless white cloth. Spreading starched white napkins on their laps, they gave their orders to a white-coated waiter.

  Elaine recommended the fried chicken, so Charlie and Will ordered that, and then Charlie was sorry because she made such a mess while eating it. Will dipped a corner of his napkin in his water glass and wiped her chin, and although she would have been embarrassed or even humiliated if anyone else had done that, because it was Will, Charlie found it a tender gesture. The chicken was as good as Elaine claimed, as were the homemade rolls and rice and gravy, but Charlie had left her appetite in Elderberry.

  Don, who shared a room with Will at the base in Courtland, said that he and Elaine had both grown up in Chattanooga and had been dating since high school. They seemed to have a friendly, easygoing relationship, and Charlie found it relaxing to be in their company.

  It wasn’t relaxing, however, to hear the two men talk of some of the dangers involved in their training. One of the men in their class had been killed during their first nighttime cross-country flight. It had been pitch-black dark, Don said, with no moon and no lights, and they had to rely strictly on their instruments. The pilot went into a spiral and was flying too low to correct it in time.

  “You didn’t tell me about that,” Charlie said, catching Will’s eye.

  “And what good would that have done?” he said. “It shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and it took a toll on everybody. It’s one of those things we have to deal with.”

  The tone of his voice let her know he didn’t want to discuss the subject further, so she asked them about conditions at the base.

  “Hey, not as bad as you might think!” Don said. “We have a new PX with a theater—”

  “And new runways, too,” Will added. “The housing’s okay, too, except when it rains, there’s a lot of red mud.”

  Charlie laughed and reminded them that, being from Georgia, she was accustomed to red mud.

  “Have you found any more bodies back in Elderberry?” Will wanted to know.

  Don looked up from buttering his roll. “Will told me all about that. Did they ever learn who it was?”

  Charlie had written Will about Annie’s finding the skeleton on the banks of a flooded creek the day they picked cotton, so they took turns explaining the situation to Elaine.

  “I’d be more interested in who put it there,” Elaine said, and Charlie agreed. She didn’t tell them about Buddy Oglesby’s peculiar comment at rehearsal that had led people to believe he knew more than he wanted to admit.

  On the drive to her relatives’ home for dessert, Elaine pointed out where the statue of the fabled characters Romulus and Remus once stood in the center of the city.

  “What happened to it?” Will asked.

  “It was a gift from Italy, from the city of Rome,” she explained. “Like Rome, Italy, you may have noticed, this is a city of hills, and that’s where the town got its name, but when we went to war with Italy, they took the statue down.” She shrugged. “Kind of a shame, really. It was a nice statue, and I miss it.”

  Elaine’s uncle and aunt lived in a spacious residential section of the town and, true to her description, the terrain rose in a series of curves and hills. As a guest, Charlie was in no position to object to the plans for the evening, but she didn’t look forward to spending her remaining hours with Will making polite conversation with Elaine’s aunt and uncle.

  She was soon relieved to find that wasn’t to be the case. After joining them for coffee and a delicious peach cobbler made, Aunt Pat said, with their own peaches she had canned earlier in the summer, the older couple excused themselves, suggesting that the four young people might enjoy the comfort of the wraparound porch or the privacy of a walk in the garden.

  Charlie resisted the impulse to throw her arms around them and kiss them—first of all for the gift of this special time together, but also for the cobbler with a hint of almond and a generous dollop of real whipped cream on top. She would never admit it to Odessa, but she thought she had probably found her match.

  “You should’ve brought your guitar,” Charlie said to Will as they stepped out on the porch with its wicker swing and comfortable rocking chairs. He didn’t like to admit it, but Will Sinclair had a better than average singing voice and could remember the words to more songs than anyone she knew.

  “I can think of better things to do,” he said, taking in the surroundings. “Would somebody please pinch me? I think I must’ve died and gone to heaven!” Will stood on the steps of the welcoming porch and held out his arms to the scene before them. Sandy paths led over a wide green lawn to an arbor heavy with fragrant yellow roses. More roses of every color bordered a walkway that meandered along a stream overhung with weeping willows.

  “The roses are almost gone now,” Elaine said, “but some of them will last until the first frost.”

  Charlie took a deep breath to inhale the scent. If the garden were more beautiful than it was now, she didn’t think she would be able to handle it. “People can peaches,” she whispered to Will. “They can vegetables, and even meat. I wish we could can this garden—this night.”

  For an answer, Will tipped up her chin and kissed her. “And the essence of you,” he said, holding her close.

  As dusk descended, lamplight illuminated the edges of the lawn, offering just enough light to see and, without a word, Will led her to a bench beside the stream, where the silence of the evening was broken only by the soothing sound of water. Don and Elaine, Charlie noticed, had strolled back to the porch, leaving the two of them alone in the deepening twilight. Soon it would be dark.

  Charlie talked some of school and the entertainment they planned for the rally, and of the adorable baby called Pooh who had become an important part of their lives, and Will told her of his training and how they had thrown everybody into the shower—clothes and all—after they soloed for the first time.

  They kept track of the time … seven thirty … eight o’clock … two and a half hours to spend together in this peaceful place, as it would take them a half hour to drive back to the college.

  Elaine had a friend in her dormitory whose parents were driving up from Atlanta and would take her that far on her return trip the next day, Charlie told him. “But the bus ride here wasn’t that bad. It just seemed to take forever.” She told him about sharing her lunch with the soldiers and of holding the baby on the last leg of the trip. “I don’t know how that young mother manages,” she admitted. “It must be an ordeal for her just to listen to the news on the radio.”

  Will nuzzled her ear. “Have you ever thought that one of these days we might have a baby of our own?”

  Charlie smiled. She had thought of little else. She reached up to touch his face, ran her fingers along his clean jawline, traced the outline of his lips.

  Will caught her hand in his and kissed her fingers, one at a time. “It might be a good idea if we married first,” he said.

  Charlie laughed. “I can imagine what Froggie Faulkenberry would think if we didn’t!

  “We could have the wedding right here in this garden,” she continued, taking his suggestion lightly. “And serve some of that great peach cobbler at the reception. I’m sure Elaine’s aunt and uncle wouldn’t mind.”

  Somewhere nearby a cricket chirped, water lapped against the banks of the stream. Will spoke in a quiet voice. “I wasn’t joking, Charlie.”

  “You weren’t? You mean … is this a proposal?”

  He drew her close and kissed her ear. “That’s exactly what it is. Will you marry me, Charlie Carr?”

  “I will! Of course I will. Yes, yes!” She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, the uniform rough against her cheek. If only he could hold her like this forever.

  “It won’t be for a
while, you know, but I’ll sure feel better knowing you’re waiting in the wings. And I don’t have a ring yet, but I’ll get one—just tell me what you want.”

  Charlie thought of all the years she had dreamed of being engaged and wearing a diamond ring, but now the ring didn’t matter at all. “I want you,” she told him. “I don’t care about a ring.”

  Will laughed and pulled her to her feet. “Well, that’s too bad because you’re going to get one. Now, let’s go back and tell the others.”

  Arm in arm they strolled back through the garden, the scent of roses all around them. “I’ll never see a rose,” Will said, “that won’t remind me of you.”

  Charlie walked a little faster. She not only wanted to share their news with Don and Elaine. She wanted to tell the world.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Every seat was taken in the Good Shepherd Sunday School classroom at the First Baptist Church. Miss Dimple Kilpatrick nodded pleasantly to young Mrs. Sullivan, who waited her turn at the end of the row and responded to greetings from those on either side of her: the new coach, Jordan McGregor, on her left, and Angie Webber, one of her former students, on her right.

  “It won’t hurt much, will it, Miss Dimple?” Angie said. “I’ve never given blood before.”

  “It’s a bit uncomfortable at first, but after that it usually goes quickly.” Miss Dimple smiled, and patted the girl’s arm. “And just think of the life you might save.”

  Coach McGregor leaned across her to reassure the young woman. “Now, don’t you worry another minute about it. When I donated back in the summer, I was through in less than fifteen minutes. It’ll be over before you know it.”

  Angie looked as if she wasn’t too sure about that, and her face turned even paler when they saw sturdy Reynolds Murphy being escorted to a cot by two nurses when he nearly passed out after donating.

  “I was nervous about giving my first time, too,” Miss Dimple said. “I don’t think it’s one bit unusual to feel that way.” And most of the people around them agreed. Today, she thought, the worst thing about donating was having to wait your turn, as those who were able to give blood usually tried to do their part when the Red Cross came to town, and because this was a Saturday, the turnout was even greater.

  She was almost through filling her pint of type O negative when Sebastian Weaver came in to register and acknowledged her with a wave of his hand.

  “We don’t need no German blood!” somebody muttered behind her. Miss Dimple couldn’t see who had said it, and fortunately Sebastian was too far away to hear, but it hurt her far worse than the needle in her arm. There was just no accounting for ignorance!

  Later, Miss Dimple took her time walking back to Phoebe’s that afternoon. A disturbing little moth of doubt had begun to flutter in her mind. Something wasn’t right! It wasn’t right at all. Miss Dimple took a deep breath and picked up her pace, but she just couldn’t shake it.

  * * *

  Will and Don left to drive to Gadsden immediately after seeing Charlie and Elaine back to the college, where they reluctantly kissed good-bye under the glaring lights of Cooper Hall. After spending the rest of the night with Don’s uncle in Gadsden, the two cadets would leave early Sunday to hitchhike back to the base.

  Charlie had breakfast with Elaine in the school cafeteria the next morning and accompanied her and several others to church afterward. It was a Presbyterian church, she thought, because the congregation said “debts” instead of “trespasses” in reciting the Lord’s Prayer, and the sanctuary was a beautiful stone building with burgundy carpeting and stained glass windows. The choir sounded lovely and the minister had a soothing voice, but she couldn’t remember a word he said. Recalling a joke her father used to tell, she supposed he preached about sin and was “agin” it, but her mind and her heart were at Courtland Airfield with Will Sinclair. The fact was, she wasn’t too sure about anything that happened after Will took her face in his hands and whispered, “I love you,” before leaving her on the steps at Shorter College the night before.

  After church, Charlie insisted on treating Elaine to lunch at a small restaurant near the college that specialized in hamburgers, and as soon as she stepped inside and inhaled the onion perfume, her appetite came back with a vengeance.

  “Your aren’t going to tell me, are you?” Elaine asked after they found seats in a booth in the back and ordered burgers with everything on them and large glasses of Coke.

  Charlie shrugged. “Tell you what?” she asked, although she could guess what she meant.

  Elaine blew the paper off the straw and laughed when it sailed into Charlie’s lap. “Have you and Will set the date for your wedding yet, and, if so, when?”

  “We didn’t get that far, but from the way he talks, I think he wants to wait until things are more settled.”

  “You mean until after the war?”

  “I’d marry him tomorrow if we could, but you know as well as I do we can’t plan anything until he’s completed his training. After this they’ll go to Craig Field in Selma for advanced flight training, and after that…”

  Elaine reached across the table and grasped her hand. “After that they’ll get their wings and be commissioned. They’ll go where they’re sent.”

  They’ll go where they’re sent. Those words occupied her thoughts all the way back to Atlanta. Mr. and Mrs. Martin were a pleasant couple and kind enough to offer her a ride, so Charlie tried to keep up with the conversation. In addition to their daughter in college, the Martins had a son who was in his last year of high school and eager to enlist in the military.

  “He’s only seventeen,” his mother said, “and I’m not giving my permission for him to take that step just yet. I’m hoping the war will be over soon and he’ll be able to go on to college.”

  Her husband, Charlie noticed, reached over and patted his wife’s hand. Charlie knew that he knew this war wasn’t going to be over anytime soon.

  * * *

  The week ahead was a whirlwind of planning for the approaching War Bond Rally and rehearsing for the entertainment afterward, but it didn’t take long for the news of Charlie’s engagement to spread like sunrise over the little town.

  “I knew it! I just knew it!” Annie said when Charlie telephoned her Sunday night. After sharing her news with her family, Charlie couldn’t wait until the next day to tell her friend about the most glorious night of her life.

  “You aren’t going to get married and leave us, are you?”

  “You should know better than that! Your own brother’s an air cadet. Is Joel getting married anytime soon?”

  Annie laughed. “Joel Gardner won’t even settle on a steady girlfriend. But you and Will…”

  “What about Will and me?” Charlie asked.

  “I wasn’t sure if you two would be able to wait that long,” Annie teased.

  “Who says you have to wait?”

  “Charlie, you didn’t?” Annie’s words came in gasps. “Oh, my gosh, you did, didn’t you?”

  “For heaven’s sake, of course we didn’t. It would have been kind of awkward with another couple along—but it’s not that I didn’t think of it,” Charlie admitted.

  Annie giggled. “I’ll bet Will thought of it, too.”

  “If he didn’t, there must be something wrong with him, and I’m pretty sure there’s not. Damn it, Annie, this war just isn’t convenient at all!”

  * * *

  When Miss Dimple arrived at the library early the day of the rally to sell tickets for the evening’s entertainment they were calling Home Front Follies, the whole town of Elderberry was a corridor of red, white, and blue. Flags lined the main streets of town, and posters were plastered in every store window. Reynolds Murphy displayed a mannequin in an army uniform outside the five-and-ten. A sign on the box of small American flags on a table beside him read, Wave one for me! and were to be given to the children who came to watch the parade later that day.

  At the library, Virginia was in such a frenzy, poor Cattus had ta
ken refuge under a boxwood behind the chimney and refused to come back inside. “I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am to see you, Dimple!” she began. “People have been coming in to buy tickets for the follies since I opened the door this morning, the children are due soon for story hour, and then there are those who want to check out books.”

  “I’ll gather the children on the porch for story time. Thank goodness the weather’s nice and we can set up a table out there for ticket sales,” Miss Dimple assured her. “Isn’t Buddy supposed to be helping with that?”

  “Called earlier and said he was giving them a hand restringing the banner across Court Street as it had blown down during the night,” Virginia said. “He’ll be here later if you don’t mind filling in until then.” She stamped a copy of Miss Minerva and William Green Hill for Willie Elrod, who was already dressed in his Scout uniform for the parade that afternoon. “This is about the third time you’ve read this, isn’t it, Willie? Wouldn’t you like to try something else?”

  But Willie shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not tired of this one yet.”

  “I’ve always liked that book, too, but I think I know of another one you’ll enjoy as well.” Miss Dimple quickly scanned a shelf in the children’s section and pulled out a copy of Treasure Island. “Let me know what you think when you finish reading it,” she said, giving the book to Virginia to stamp.

  Willie looked doubtful. “I dunno … what’s it about?”

  “Oh, things like pirates, and treasure, and a boy not much older than you,” Miss Dimple said.

  “Really?” Willie shoved the two books under his arm and hurried out the door, but she noticed he got only as far as the front steps before he sat down to leaf through it.

  She settled the smaller children at the far end of the rustic front porch shaded by wisteria vines from the morning sun and read to them about Goldilocks and Snow White, as well as several of her favorite selections from A Child’s Garden of Verses. By the time the last little person had been collected, a line of people had assembled to purchase tickets for Home Front Follies.