by CW Ullman
Charlie stated, “In my case, I started off with the idea of serving the flag, but ended up serving my comrades-in-arms. I feel a greater affinity for these knuckleheads than the American public.”
“Probably true for all of us that end up in the trenches, but in reality, it is our service which allows the debate back home,” Chief Biwer replied.
Ronnie added, “I think a lot of the anti-war folks from the Vietnam era were only out to save their own asses and I’ll tell you why: where were they when President Bush ran Hussein out of Kuwait in Desert Storm? Is war immoral or not? You’ve heard the old saw, war is immoral if I have to go, but it’s a mistake if somebody else goes.”
Gaston chimed in, “In America you have the luxury of being a pacifist, because somebody is willing to die for your philosophy even if they don’t agree with it. If everyone in this country was a pacifist, we’d be speaking either Japanese or German.”
“We were onboard ship the whole time Vietnam was raging,” Charlie said. “Chief, you were on the ground in the thick of things. What was it like?”
“When people ask me what it was like, I tell them about the firefights, the battles, the conflict and lost lives. But for you guys I’ll add in the prostitutes, the camaraderie, the foreign country experience, the cultural differences, the anger, frustration, and the fun. Vietnam was a million dollar experience I wouldn’t pay a nickel for.”
They talked a little longer before wrapping it up. Charlie said he was going to hang for awhile at the fire ring. He had been mentally drifting from the conversation because he was thinking about Rusty, Sister Celeste, the surf shop, Molly, and Cindy. He wanted another child, even though things were financially tight. While the surf shop had been doing well, it could do much more. Its success, but also its mediocre growth, were due to Rusty.
Rusty had become a legend, because Girl’s Eyes surfboards were the fastest in the water. He had figured out how to make boards sturdy, but light. He shaved the blanks beyond the thinness of other boards. Normally, a too-thin blank would not support the surfer and would literally snap in half in the water. If too thick, a board’s weight would not allow for quick cuts in the wave. Some surfboard manufacturers compensated for a thin blank with extra resin, making the board too heavy. Other board builders tweaked the shape of the board for better maneuverability. Rusty’s technique for stiffening surfboards was to slide small, pencil lead-sized, aluminum stays through the foam. This allowed him to use less resin, creating sturdier, lighter, and faster surfboards. With Charlie there to interpret his short, monosyllabic speech style, Rusty talked with the styrofoam chemist where he bought his blanks and asked him to reformulate the styrofoam to create sturdier blanks.
Once Girl’s Eyes Surfboards started to win competitions, they were in demand. The kids from Hermosa Beach, who traditionally finished middle or lower in competitions, all of a sudden were winning first place trophies. Because the boards were lighter, they had an essential advantage in surf competitions, number of rides..On Rusty’s boards, surfers were riding ten to fifteen percent more waves.
Charlie described it as a good news, bad news situation: the good news, many people wanted Girl’s Eyes surfboards; the bad news, many people wanted Girl’s Eyes surfboards and only one person made them. Rusty’s techniques for surfboard design and building were not divulged to anyone else and Rusty did not want a manufacturer making his boards; he wanted to do it himself.
Charlie asked Rusty if they could mass-manufacture the boards and Rusty could paint on the trademark eyes. Rusty did not agree or disagree. Darla and Charlie called the way Rusty communicated “Rustyspeak.” In Rustyspeak, a non-answer to a question meant no. Consequently, Charlie was limited in the number of boards he could sell. A slight compensation for the limited number of boards Charlie could sell was they were more expensive. While most surf shops in the area were selling anywhere from thirty to a hundred boards per month at $300, Girl’s Eyes surfboards had monthly sales of fifteen at twice the amount. When Rusty found out where the blanks were made, Charlie had an even bigger problem.
The styrofoam manufacturer’s plant was in Garden Grove in Orange County. The owner invited Rusty down to see how they molded the blanks. Charlie drove through a small section of Garden Grove called Little Saigon. While stopped at a traffic signal, Rusty watched people cross the street. When he saw a Vietnamese girl in the cross walk, he bolted out of the car after her. Though Charlie was in the middle of the street, he shifted the car to park and went after him. Rusty’s attempt to apologize to a complete stranger about an incident that happened fifteen years ago aboard a Navy ship looked like an assault to a Garden Grove policeman.
The officer intervened to rescue the girl, arrested Rusty, and ticketed Charlie for blocking an intersection. Eventually, they had to appear in court. The judge let Rusty off with a warning, but Charlie had to pay a three hundred dollar fine for the vehicle infraction. That should have been the end of any problems, except it was not the end of Rusty’s visits to Little Saigon.
Because of Darla’s schedule in the surf shop, driving Tobie was difficult, so she reasoned if Rusty could drive Tobie, it would make life easier. Once Rusty got his license, life might have been easier for Darla if Rusty dropped off Tobie and came back to the shop, but instead, Rusty took unscheduled trips to Little Saigon. After three arrests, for accosting teenage girls, it caught the eye of someone in Child Protective services. This created a bigger problem that would threaten the dissolution of Rusty’s family and a brutal death.
An agent in the Los Angeles County Offices of Child Protective Services read an intra-county memo regarding the accounts of Rusty’s assaults. Wilamena Luemveld had made it her mission to protect girls from men like Rusty. When she had read that a Vietnam veteran was assaulting teenage girls, she assumed he was looking for reluctant underage sexual partners.
Starting with her years on the Berkeley campus during the Vietnam War protests, she had determined that the military ruined America, and the men who served in it were detrimental to society. She thought they should be prosecuted for their participation in an illegal war. If those men would have burned their draft cards and refused to join the military, the war could not have been fought. It was her opinion that the ones who joined the armed forces, voluntarily or not, raped a country, then covered up their atrocities. Veteran Russell Armstrong of Hermosa Beach was going to know that she was watching him.
Luemveld found Rusty’s phone number and called it. When Darla answered, the caller asked for Russell, and even though he was next to her, Darla said he was gone. The caller identified herself as Ms. Wilamena Luemveld with L.A. County Child Protective Services and asked to have Russell call her. After hanging up, Darla anxiously asked Rusty if he knew what this was about. He did not answer, meaning no. She looked for Charlie and asked what she should do. He called a lawyer friend in Rotary who asked if Rusty had been charged with anything. After Charlie answered not in Los Angeles, the lawyer suggested Darla go with Rusty to meet the woman.
Darla and Rusty drove to downtown Los Angeles to meet with Luemveld. On the way to CPS, Darla reminded Rusty to say only yes or no when Luemveld questioned him. They entered a large fluorescent-lit hall where they were met by a thin woman with glasses perched on the end of her nose on a face that reminded Darla of a disapproving grandmother, except she was in her forties. She asked their name, then escorted them into a small room. They sat as Luemveld went through a stack of papers.
“Mr. Armstrong, it has come to the attention of this office that you’ve been cited in Orange County regarding solicitation of minors,” said Luemveld.
Rusty sat quietly, while Luemveld shuffled through her papers. Darla looked over at Rusty vacantly staring at the floor. She nudged him to answer, but he said nothing, so Darla decided to speak for him.
She said, “I’m Rusty’s wife. He was wounded in Vietnam and he has a bit of a challenge speaking.”
“I don’t see anything in his file about challenges,” Luem
veld said. “Where was he wounded?”
“Well, it’s not that kind of a wound. It’s more like psychological problems,” Darla said.
There was an awkward silence while Luemveld closed the file and looked Rusty up and down.
“Mrs. Armstrong, when it comes-,” Darla interrupted Luemveld.
“We’re not married,” Darla said.
“If you’re not married, you’re not allowed to be in here – you said you were married,” Luemveld said.
“We have a child and we’ve been together for thirteen years,” Darla said.
“You have a child together? How old is the child?”
Darla had enough of this woman.
“Luemveld, I don’t know what that has to do with anything, and frankly, I don’t know why we’re down here. What is it that you want?” Darla snapped.
Luemveld did not like having her authority challenged or to be spoken to in such a manner. She was to be respected and wanted Darla to know it. Luemveld had come from a life of privilege. Her father owned a trucking company where she had worked. However, instead of doing her work, she spent her time befriending the employees. She could not understand how they could do such drab, dead-end jobs. She thought if they would listen to her counsel, she would enlighten them to leave the job for a more fulfilling life. In her mind, she understood their problems; after all she was going to a therapist three days a week and was more than competent to give armchair analysis. What she did not know was that those who talked to her did so only because she was the boss’s daughter and they were afraid of being fired.
If she was not coaching the women employees, she was having sex with the male workers. She justified her sexual liaisons as giving men the only pure love they would know because she needed nothing in return. She wanted to give them unencumbered joy. Instead, she gave them venereal warts. When one of the men determined he had contracted his venereal disease from her, she laughed and said, “Of course, eighty percent of the population has it. I guess you’ll just be having sex with me.” However, he was married and had passed them to his wife, increasing her risk for cervical cancer. The man settled with the trucking company for a half million dollars.
Her father finally suggested that maybe the trucking business was not for her. She caused problems no matter where she worked, but in Wilamena’s view she was misunderstood. Her assertiveness was propelled by her self-professed infallible judgment. It was difficult to take her seriously, because when she became frustrated or wanted to emphasize a point, she stamped her feet and twisted side to side like Don Knotts on the Andy Griffith Show.
Her father was a major political donor to the mayor of Los Angeles and leaned on him to hire Wilamena. Once hired, she bounced around city departments, causing, as she had in her father’s business, more problems than she solved. In two years, she held six jobs. In her present position as deputy assistant director of her department, her staff learned not to challenge her opinions or they would earn extra case files and risk poor evaluations
“Mr. Armstrong is here to be warned that the City of Los Angeles will not tolerate the kind of criminal activity he displayed in Orange County. Now that you’ve informed me he has a child, we will need to send an agent out for a home inspection to be sure the child is safe,” Luemveld said.
Darla instantly checked her attitude. She recognized Luemveld for what she was. She said, “Look, Mrs. Luemveld-,” Darla was interrupted.
“It’s Ms. Luemveld.”
“Yes, I apologize, Ms. Luemveld. There’s no reason to have a home inspection. We have a very loving family,” Darla said.
“Then you shouldn’t have anything to worry about,” Luemveld said, as she stood up. “You’ll be hearing from my office, and one last thing: if we believe there is any danger to children in the house, we have the authority to remove them,”
Darla and Rusty sat in the car in the downtown parking lot. He stared at the floor while Darla imagined Luemveld rampaging through their lives. Darla had dealt with people like Luemveld before and she knew they used their authority to make life for others a living hell. She sat a moment longer, closed her eyes, and silently prayed for Mahatma Ji to help her. That help would come in the most unexpected way.
<>
A curious development happened with Molly; she became a daughter to Charlie. She believed that providence had protected her. She visited Sister Marie Celeste every day she was in the hospital and later when she was in physical therapy. When Sister left the hospital and moved back to the convent, Molly walked her around the convent grounds. She also became a more serious Catholic and periodically asked Charlie to go to Mass with her. All of this was refreshing, except Cindy had grown jealous of Charlie and Molly’s relationship.
Charlie noticed how eager Molly was to do things with him. When she was going to school football games, to the beach, or to a movie with her friends, she invited him along. The fact that that she asked her mother as an afterthought created resentment that Cindy directed at Charlie. When Molly was a problem child, Charlie could not say anything and now that she was good and wanting to hang out with him, it caused a backlash with her mother. Charlie thought, “damned if you do and damned if you don’t.” What Charlie never suspected was that Cindy’s jealousy and resentment of him provided the right environment for Cindy to have an affair.
She stumbled into a relationship with Samuel “Just call me Sam” Sweet, another surf shop owner. She wanted to buy Charlie a pair of sunglasses that Girl’s Eyes did not carry, so she visited Sweet Surf Shop.
The owner walked up behind her and said, “What, you’re checking out the competition?”
Cindy said, “Busted. I’m looking for a pair of Oakleys and you guys are the only game in town.”
“You tell your husband I’ll give up fifty percent of my Oakley’s for half of his Maui Jims,” Sam said, referring to a competing brand of sunglasses.
“You tell him, we’re not talking right now,” Cindy said.
“Trouble in Girl’s Eyes’ paradise?”
“You know how some girls want love and others love to be wanted? Well, Charlie loses sight of the later,” Cindy mused.
Sam mentioned he had some free time and asked if she would like to get a drink. Drinks led to talk of what was missing in both their marriages and a hotel was not far away. Their first dalliance led to weekly assignations. It was an arrangement with unexpected ramifications, the biggest being Cindy’s growing disillusion with her marriage to Charlie.
Charlie felt the loss of affection and a mounting tension in their relationship. He surmised that the extra time he was spending in the shop with Rusty, the boys, and Molly was at the root of it. When he tried to make up for his lack of attentiveness, he only drew contemptuous rebukes from Cindy. She argued about their lack of money, the needed kitchen remodeling, his Rotary involvement, and his time at Girl’s Eyes. She criticized him for not managing Girl’s Eyes like Sam Sweet managed his surf shop. She thought his fidelity to Rusty was costing them money. What was the point of letting Darla, Rusty, and Tobie live in the back, when he could use that space for more sales? She had tired of Charlie needing to babysit Rusty and cautioned him that one day Rusty would cause major problems for him. They got into heated arguments which ended with Cindy leaving to be with Sam Sweet.
All of this changed when Molly announced to Charlie she was pregnant. Charlie was so surprised he could not speak. He did not know if he should scold her or hide her from Cindy. What he said surprised even him.
“Don’t tell your mother you told me first,” Charlie urged.
“She’s going to be pissed,” Molly said.
“Ya think? Honestly, I’m pissed,” Charlie said. “I’m assuming Tag is…?” Charlie asked.
“Of course it’s Tag. C’mon, Charlie.” Molly said. “And, no I’m not getting high again. I talked to Tag and he wants me to get an abortion. He doesn’t want his parents to know,” she said. “I don’t think I can. I don’t know what to do.”
They were in the surf shop. Darla was at the counter, but she did not hear their conversation. Charlie told Darla they were going out and Molly and Charlie walked down to the Strand, sat on a bench, and watched the sun set.
“Let’s look at your options. You can abort, even though you don’t want to, you can have the baby and put it up for adoption, or you can have the baby and keep it,” Charlie said.
“What do you think I should do?” she asked.
“I think it best to tell your mother first and let us discuss it. Which way are you leaning?” Charlie said.
“I just think about how much I hated not knowing who my father was. Sorry, you’ve been the best dad ever, but you know what I mean? I don’t want to abort and I don’t want to give it away and…oh, I don’t know,” she complained. Charlie watched her and saw a look in her eye that suggested her mind was made up.
<>
When she announced her pregnancy to Cindy, Molly had never heard her mother use such demeaning language. Cindy’s veins stood out on her forehead, her face flushed and her hands clenched. She spewed her disappointment, painting a Dickensian life for Molly. She said that doors would be shut and her freedom curtailed drastically. It was not until Charlie placed a hand on Cindy’s shoulder, that she stopped the rant.
It confirmed what Molly had suspected for a long time, that her mother regretted having had her.
Charlie suggested Molly go upstairs while he and Cindy discussed it. Before Molly left she defiantly announced with tears in her eyes, “I’m keeping this baby and I’m going to love her. I’m going to make her feel wanted and appreciated, Mom”.
Molly went upstairs. To mollify Cindy, Charlie told her he was disappointed, too, but they had to make the best of it. If Molly insisted on raising the child, he would convert Molly’s room so she could keep the baby with her.
