Saving the Light at Chartres

by Victor A. Pollak

  He turned to look at Alice sitting next to him, her patent leather shoes reaching to touch the floor. He remembered the day she was born. She returned his look with a smile as he examined her eyes. He wondered what she was thinking. How had she been, with her mother, who’d been grieving the loss of Commander Blue, her second husband, in the Pacific? Little Alice couldn’t really have known him that well, because her mother had only been married to this man for three years.

  Wow. Alice had grown so much since the last time he’d seen her.

  He took off his glove and reached to hold her hand as they each looked at the water. Her sequined evening dress and pearl necklace, visible through the opening of her wool coat, made her look almost like a prom girl. Her necklace reminded him of her mother, who’d worn pearls at Griffith Texas holiday gatherings. Alice’s hat, carefully positioned for warmth without mussing her coiffed blonde hair, made Griff wonder: Was it her mother or grandmother who’d helped her dress for the evening?

  Alice returned his smile with her own and a sigh. She was happy to be with him and excited to be out for their Saturday evening in New York.

  When they arrived at the Plaza, Griff and Alice found Nell in the lobby, lounging in an overstuffed chair near the bar with her radiant brunette hair, her slender body shown to advantage in a stylish, reserved evening dress of a shapely cut and glowing beige sheen.

  Nell spotted Griff in his uniform—tall and handsome as ever, and all energy—with his dimple and cocked hat she’d missed so much. She raised her arms, her eyes tearing up as her smile greeted him, alive and warm, in anticipation of his kiss. Her smile at first sight gave him a wave of welcome. She rose, greeted and hugged Alice, and then let Griff hug her tight and close with a long kiss, holding and holding and holding her.

  They strode toward the elevator, which opened under a shiny brass sign that read “The Persian Room.”

  The elevator operator, in his royal-blue uniform with epaulets and matching cap with patent leather visor, reached over to close the shiny brass-cage safety door, acknowledging Alice’s presence with a nod and welcoming smile. She admired his formal attire and then looked around to notice that, except for his and her father’s army uniform, there were no others in military dress or regalia, which made her feel even more privileged to be here with her father in his. The operator didn’t need to ask which floor the group was going to. He swiftly closed the outer door and navigated up to the Persian Room’s level.

  Alice took in the sights and sounds. Later in life, she recalled that it felt like entering a golden gate into a Persian palace. She was beguiled by the high-ceilinged art-deco Persian style in deep iridescent tones of blues, greens, and purples and was transfixed by the ladies, in their gowns and mink furs, men in their fine suits and tuxedos, seated at tables or in elegant booths, each candlelit with white table cloth and sparkling glass-ware. The tables and booths surrounded a circular dance floor, already alive with music of the jazz and swing-time orchestra. It was a magical scene. A cigar and cigarette girl, with a tray strapped to her front, was selling smokes. A man with a flash camera was going from table to table, offering souvenir photos.

  Alice sat at the table and smiled at Griff and Nell, seeming to enjoy herself, with the people surrounding her having a grand time. Nell kept her eyes locked on Griff, and he noticed her glances at him. There was something she seemed eager to know. Was it how long he was going to be in town, what he was up to, whether there was any word that he’d be going to war? He could see concern in the way she tilted her head, looking at him. He didn’t know how to respond, bound by his constraints.

  There were almost no young people of middle school age or younger, so Alice felt very grown-up to be there and told Griff she was proud to be sitting with him, his brass buttons prominent against his olive-green jacket and his khaki tie. Nell joined in that she was happy also to be there with Alice and Griff after so long a separation.

  Griff noticed he was the only military man present—at least the only one in military dress; a little awkward shift of his shoulders revealed how he felt out of place. With a highball in his hand, standing on the plush carpet, he pictured the other Twentieth Corps officers, still hard at work, back in the dark fort office at Slocum, low lights hanging over the map table in the dimly lit room with cold concrete floors, as they went over plans and preparations for the transfer of men and machines across the ocean, their families far off and distant from their thoughts.

  The trio ordered dinner, starting with a shrimp cocktail for Alice. When the orchestra began to play its slow, quiet rendition of “Green Eyes,” Griff smiled and asked his daughter to dance, reaching for her hand. She nodded with raised eyebrows and a smile, arm extended. They joined the dozen couples on the dance floor. Once in rhythm, she leaned close and asked again what his destination would be. He said he wasn’t permitted to say. Besides, a New York restaurant—especially the dance floor—was not a place for discussing any such thing. “Spies are everywhere,” he whispered to Alice. “Plan security is critical. Big plans are being made. I’ve got to be part of them.”

  Alice swung her head back to meet his look, in silence, and continued to dance, sighing, stretching her arms high to hold him close.

  He looked out with a blank stare over her head, wondering when he’d be able to see and talk with her again after this night.

  He guided Alice back to their table. Nell was waiting, hoping for a dance with her husband. He looked at her and at Alice.

  He shook his head. “Alice is asking where I am going.” Leaning toward both as he sat down, he whispered, “I can’t tell either of you. We must not talk about where I’m going.” Looking at Nell, with a tilt of his head toward Alice, he added, “Lieutenant Colonel Torrey will surely know if we have. If he suspects, word will get back to the corps. I can’t jeopardize the mission or my opportunity.”

  Nell nodded in understanding and attempted a smile. Alice looked around the room as if in a dream, with cocktails, dinner, desserts, the surroundings, the ladies’ dresses, the feel of the purple and red velour upholstery of her bench under her hand.

  The orchestra resumed with muted trumpets playing “Star Dust,” and Griff went to Nell and with a hand and a nod requested a dance. She tilted her head with an I-thought-you’d-never-ask look and led him to the dance floor, starting with a tight, slow hug and a sigh. It was their first time even a little bit alone together in sixteen months. She was savoring the dance and looking forward to a long evening with Griff—and trying to freeze the memory of the feel of him holding her, wondering how long it would be until they could do this again. She dreamed of the two of them being home together at least in Brooklyn or near another base somewhere, hoping it would be soon.

  Their return to the table coincided with the arrival of their first course of dinner and the wine. While they ate, Nell engaged Alice in conversation about her mother’s family and Alice’s interests outside of school. Griff, largely silent, enjoying Nell’s genuine interest in Alice and her life, feeling a streak of endearment and tenderness that he hadn’t often experienced since their wedding.

  They worked their way through their elegant meal, and Griff and Nell got up to dance, while Alice admired the partygoers, the ladies’ dresses, and the surroundings as she savored the last of her dessert.

  When they returned, Alice and Griff left for one last dance, without talking.

  Griff glanced at his watch: it was nearing 21:00. Looking up at both women, he said, “Well . . . I’ll get the coats,” and rose to head toward the cloakroom, saying he’d meet them at the elevator, as the orchestra played “Frenesi” to encourage the patrons shuffling in and out to keep things moving. The hallway outside the Persian Room was clogged again with departing guests and a queue of others waiting to enter, eager to be in place for the next sitting. The elevator operator greeted the departing guests with his own song, triggering a lot of smiles for the ride down.

  Griff led Alice and Nell to one of the waiting taxis to retu
rn to the dock for the 22:00 ferry back to Governor’s Island, Nell to join them for the return trip to help see Alice home.

  On the ferry, Alice sat between Griff and Nell, resting her head on her father’s shoulder as the boat rocked, the reflected lights of the city receding as the ferry crossed toward the island. They were each deep in thought, but none had much to say.

  At the Commander’s House, Alice’s grandmother answered the door with a smile for each of them. She gave Nell a hug. Lieutenant Colonel Torrey was waiting with her.

  Little Alice, with a coquettish grin, said, “We had a marvelous time, except that Dad wouldn’t tell me where he’s going,” following with an innocent glance at the lieutenant colonel and then a light-hearted sneer at Griff, who frowned in reply.

  Griff looked at the lieutenant colonel, whose approving nod signaled that he endorsed Griff’s discretion.

  Alice hugged Griff and Nell goodbye. “Thank you for a dreamy evening,” she gushed. “I’ll remember it always. And please write, Dad. Please be safe and take care of yourself.”

  “Sure will. And you too. When I return, we’ll have another grand time. Please tell your mother to take good care too.”

  Alice went upstairs. Nell shared a goodbye hug and kisses on the cheeks with Mrs. Torrey, and Griff a handshake with the lieutenant colonel. They hurried to the waiting car and then were off to the ferry.

  Onboard, Griff held Nell, her head resting on his shoulder. He savored her warmth, tightly gripping her gloved hand, feeling the boat rock with the harbor waves.

  Earlier that afternoon, he’d thought that he would have time to ride with Nell in the cab back to Brooklyn, spend the night with her there, and then in the morning catch a cab or the subway to Grand Central and the train back to the fort—and that he had some saying goodbye to do. And his dog was with her in Brooklyn, so he’d wanted to say goodbye to the dog too.

  But now, his mind had turned to all the things he needed to do, starting early the next morning, when he’d have quiet office time before the others awoke. He had to return to his unit.

  So he came up with a modified plan: If the ferry got them back to Battery Park in time, he would have time to ride with Nell in the cab back to Brooklyn, say goodbye there, and then catch a cab to Grand Central and the train back to the fort in time to catch the last ferry at 0:30. He’d tell Nell that he hoped to get back during the week, but tonight just wouldn’t work for him to stay in Brooklyn.

  But it was already 22:10. He even balked at the notion of riding in the cab back to Brooklyn. So instead he turned to Nell to tell her his further modified plan for the night. He told her he needed to get back to the fort. He would put her in a cab back to Brooklyn, and he’d take a separate cab to Grand Central and catch the train from there to New Rochelle, then the ferry to the fort.

  “I’m gonna miss you, Nell.”

  She’d expected this. She didn’t want it, but she’d expected that he’d head back to the fort and call her in a day or two to arrange another chance for them to get together. In her lips and inward cheeks, he could see her fear-against-hope expression that she’d been looking for him to come home for the night. But they both knew that just sitting there together would have to do, just holding each other, absorbing the moment. She repeated that she’d been missing him—and would miss him even more still. But she understood. Just sitting with him, enjoying the remaining moments, would do for her what she needed most. She didn’t understand, but she knew that now wasn’t the time for questions and discussion.

  At the taxi stand, she asked when she’d see him again.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll be in touch as soon as I can. I was hoping to get back again in the next few days, but it’s not likely.”

  She closed her lips. Her worry engulfed him, and he felt a spike of his own tears and a flush warmth welling up in his face. But he could answer her worry only with another hug. This sight and touch of her could be his last.

  “Remember, I’ll be in HQ, not at the front.” Tears in her eyes drove him to reach in and roll down her taxi window before he closed her door.

  “Chin up. Stay beautiful. Love my dog until I get back. I love you.”

  “Love you too. Be safe.”

  Her taxi pulled away. He checked his watch and signaled for another cab to get him to Grand Central.

  Sunday at 06:30, Griff awoke in his single bunk, the dank, cold February ocean air lying between his face and the thin faded-green wallboard that crawled up the wall of his thin, dark room, illuminated by the first wave of dawn light finding its way in through the two-foot-square dirty window that faced the narrow walkway between huts. He heard the first sounds of the ferry crew preparing the dock for the arrival of the earliest boat. Facing the wall with his head still on his pillow, in his mind he could still see Nell’s attempted smile as they’d said goodbye at the taxi stand, more left unsaid between them than said. He went over their conversation on the boat. He didn’t feel good about not committing to see her alone for a night before shipping out, but as he reconsidered it, he was already having trouble imagining how he could get away to Brooklyn for a full night in the next four days and still finish all that needed doing between now and time for the troops to load onto launches to be taken to the big ship.

  Still, the longing in Nell’s face, the effort she was making to bear up to being without him, and what must have been her fear of the unknown were difficult for him to compartmentalize from the rest of his whirling thoughts. He thought again about what facts he could share with Nell to at least give her some peace of mind about some of the things that were undoubtedly worrying her. How about at least telling her they were heading out to Europe on the tenth? Nothing about how or where they would be going, or when they’d arrive. Maybe, he thought. Maybe. Let’s see how it goes today and tomorrow, he decided. And he tried to fold up those thoughts, put them in his pocket, and get on with his work. He rolled out of bed, his head swimming with confusion.

  Monday night, he found his way back to the dark office. He sat in the dimness trying first to fortify himself for what he expected would be an awkward conversation with Nell, only to stall, lighting a cigarette, trying to sort out emotions, but he couldn’t quite do it. There was something that had been bothering Nell on Saturday night. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something—it had something to do with her thinking that he’d changed, he knew, something about his focus on the war and not on her or them or coming home. He’d never had this feeling before about Nell. It was different from before, with his first wife, Alice, who’d always found things to be unhappy about. But with Nell, it had been different. She’d been content with whatever time they had together, whatever opportunities there were. When they’d first met, Griff wasn’t as wrapped up in his military career, and there certainly wasn’t a war going on. But now there was, and he was finally part of it and determined to get into the fight. She’d seemed to understand before, but now there was a new tension between them that he hadn’t sensed before.

  He placed the call to Nell, determined to tell her he wouldn’t get out to Brooklyn to see her this time, and that was it. His outfit would be moving out soon, with his chance to get into the war and make happen what he’d been training and planning for all these years. And he was damn excited about it and hoped she would be too.

  He said, “It’s me.”

  “I was hoping you’d call tonight,” she said. “When can you come home?

  “Well, that’s why I’m calling. It’s not gonna work. I’m not gonna be able to get there this time.”

  “Oh? Well, then, how about this weekend, or next week some time?”

  “You see, Nell. Um, that’s just it. We’ll be moving out soon.”

  “Really, so soon? Who’s going?” she asked. “How long will you be gone? Where are you going? When will you be back?”

  “Nell, it’s just that—”

  “I got the impression from you on Saturday night that it was a matter of getting settled. But now
it sounds like you’re just passing through. Is that it? Can we get together when you get settled, wherever you’re going?

  “No, that’s not going to work. We’re leaving this week, the whole corps. And we’re going to Europe. I can’t tell you more than that, Nell.”

  “Geez.” She paused.

  Griff heard only silence on the line for what seemed a full minute, followed by a sniffle.

  “Nell, are you there? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m just feeling a bit of a shock, is all. I didn’t realize you were just passing through on your way overseas. I’m sorry, Griff. I don’t want to be a burden. I just . . .”

  So Griff went on to tell her that he was being presented with the most important opportunity he’d ever had and that he was darned excited about the whole thing, and that corps security prevented him from saying any more to her, and that he’d probably already told her more than he should have. This was going to be his chance to get into the fight for real. He’d been learning and training and preparing all these years for real combat, and this was going to be it.

  Nell tried to be excited for him, but mostly she just didn’t understand. Why couldn’t he plan for at least a little time at home? Didn’t he want to? She thought his role would be well back from the front lines in headquarters, not in the fight. But was he going to be in danger? Why would he want to do that? Wasn’t that for younger, single men?

  She’d been looking forward to the day they’d finally be together. Now that they’d found each other and gotten married, she’d thought they both wanted to settle down—both of them wanting it just as much. But now he seemed strangely reluctant to commit.

  Gripping the receiver, Griff felt a bit guilty about everything—as though he’d been trying to conceal something from her, something beyond the required corps secrecy. He felt strangely uncomfortable and sort of contrite. This was unexpected. He’d been so excited and had wanted her to share his excitement. But then he realized that she had no reason to be excited for him. She was just worried about him.