A Pledge of Silence

by Flora J. Solomon

  “Dumbstruck,” she whispered, returning his kiss.

  Her mother waved from across the room. She wore a royal-blue dress and a hat with a feather that swayed as she approached. Margie saw a loveliness in her mom she had never noticed before: her creamy skin, dark curly hair, and a slim but curvy figure. Mama glided through the crowd, smiling, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

  “Where did this handsome soldier come from? You get better looking every time I see you, Abe.” She bussed his cheek, leaving a smidge of red. She admired Margie’s class pin and touched the brim of her nurse’s cap. “It’s official now, dear. You’re all grown up. I’m so proud of you! I don’t know where the years have gone.”

  Rimless glasses now framed Dad’s eyes, something Margie didn’t like to see, but his hug felt as hearty as always. He pecked at her forehead. “Margie, I couldn’t be happier.”

  Frank, standing to one side, stood taller than Dad, and Margie took notice of the stubble on his chin. “Come here for a hug,” she said. “When did you get so tall?”

  “About the time you started shrinking,” he retorted. “Bet you can’t guess Dad’s surprise.”

  “Hush up, Frank!” Dad glowered at his son. He shook Abe’s hand. “How’s the army treating you, young man?”

  Abe’s demeanor became gleeful as he related his experiences in primary flight school. “I learned basic maneuvers in an open-cockpit, two-seater biplane we called the Yellow Peril. It’s a bugger on the ground. Too sharp of a turn sends it into a nose-over. That happened to a buddy. It wasn’t pretty.”

  Dad guffawed. A generation ago he’d served as an army mechanic when all the planes were biplanes. Margie detected envy in his voice when he asked, “What’s waiting for you when you get back?”

  Abe revved again. “Ten weeks in Bakersfield, California, to learn flying in formation, at different altitudes, and nighttime flying. The trainer’s faster, heavier, and more complex—a BT-13 Valiant, a single wing. The guys named it the Vibrator.”

  Dad nodded, nostalgia flickering in his smile, and Frank looked on admiringly.

  The level of noise in the room continued to rise, the music too loud, and people had to shout to be heard. A contentious voice pierced the air: “Hitler, that son of a—” Heads turned, seeking the source.

  Germany monopolized conversations whenever people gathered. The rogue country now occupied Austria and Czechoslovakia, and in a recent speech, President Roosevelt implied the US frontier had moved to the Rhine. The press reports were alarming.

  Dad asked Abe, “Any new information?”

  Abe nodded. “Hitler’s Luftwaffe is getting stronger. His bombers are using a new technology; it’s called an X-apparatus. By interlocking navigational beams, they can hit within three hundred yards of a target. They’ve almost wiped out the Polish air force using it. I heard Roosevelt has asked Congress for millions more dollars for defense.”

  Mama said, “Why would he need to? He promised we’d stay neutral.”

  Dad said, “He’s asking Congress for a revision of the Neutrality Acts, Anna. Europe’s a powder keg waiting to blow, and he wants to send aid to England. If England falls to Germany, we’ll be in big trouble.”

  With Abe standing next to her in his uniform, Margie felt protective. She leaned against him, catching the smell of shaving lotion. She didn’t want to lose him to a faraway war.

  He leaned back against her as if to say, Love you, and asked, “How’s the job hunt going?”

  “Good! Mama worked her magic. I got hired as assistant director at the Ann Arbor chapter of the American Red Cross. I start two weeks from tomorrow.”

  The job offer came from Myra Walker, the director of the chapter and her mother’s good friend. It was the only employment opportunity Margie had received, and she had mixed feelings about it. She would be living at home and taking the train to work.

  “Look,” she said to divert the attention away from herself, “they’re cutting the cake. Does anyone want some?”

  Evelyn stood in the crowd gathered around the cake table. She nudged Abe with her elbow. “You’re a dreamboat of a man in a uniform, flyboy.”

  He flashed a smile of even white teeth. “You’re a tease. I know all about you.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.” Evelyn poked Margie. “Hey, kid, what rumors have you been spreading about me?”

  Margie raised her eyebrows innocently. “Only the juicy ones, Evie. I promise. No others.”

  “All right, then. If it’s only them and no others. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving town. Did Margie tell you, Abe? I’ll be at the US Naval Hospital in Annapolis, Maryland. I wish she could come with me.”

  Abe said, “You’ll have to stand in line. I have first dibs.” He winked at Margie.

  She slapped his arm. “First dibs? For all you know, I just might go with the highest bidder!”

  After the festivities, Dad packed Margie’s bags in the trunk of the car. As she slid into the back beside Frank, sadness settled over her. While Evelyn would be leaving for new adventures in Annapolis, and Abe would be learning to fly airplanes in sunny Bakersfield, she was returning to her childhood home. A rogue tear rolled down her cheek that she quickly wiped away. She should be happy. Her long years of education were behind her, and she had a coveted job waiting. Still, all she felt was cross.

  Looks like I’m going nowhere.

  CHAPTER 4

  Little River, June 1939

  Dad’s surprise turned out to be bigger than Margie had dared expect. He handed her the keys to his Pontiac coupe and opened the driver’s-side door. “I’ve been saving her for you, Margie. She runs as smooth as she did the day I bought her. She’s yours now.”

  Speechless, she laughed in delight and kissed her father’s beaming face. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.” The maroon car, with its black landau top, shone like a new penny.

  Mama said, “He had it painted, and he polished all the trim by hand. Isn’t it pretty?”

  “I helped,” Frank said, pointing out the wood-spoke wheels he had sanded smooth, the Chief Pontiac hood ornament polished to a high gloss, and the gray velour seats brushed clean and soft. “Can I borrow it sometime? I’d be careful. I’m a good driver,” he insisted as he tipped his hat back.

  Dad opened the hood and identified each engine part. She watched attentively as he demonstrated how to check the oil, clean the carburetor, and fill the radiator. He said, “Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to change a tire. You need to know that.”

  They all piled in for a trip into town for ice cream, stopping to pick up Abe on the way.

  That evening was warm, the sky was full of stars, and the smell of lilacs sweetened the air. Margie and Abe sat on her front porch swing, mindful only of each other. Cuddled up to him, she whispered into his ear, “I love you.” Her hand ran down the front of his shirt and rested on his lap.

  He fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, and she felt herself melting. “We better not. Daddy’s still up.” She leaned back against him. “December’s getting close. We should start planning our wedding.” She locked her fingers into his. “What do you think of a Christmas theme? The attendants in red satin and the church filled with poinsettias and holly? You’ll need a best man and two ushers.”

  Abe gave the swing a push with his foot, starting it in motion, its squeak competing with the chirping of crickets. He took a deep breath, then said, “Promise you won’t be mad?”

  She tensed. “What?”

  “December won’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve been selected for advanced training. It’s an honor. I can’t pass it up.”

  “Can’t we get married anyway?”

  “Not as long as I’m in training. I’m sorry. Please don’t look so disappointed.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her lightly. “It’s only six months.”

  “That long?” She felt her future and her face crumble.

  “It’s not so long, and with both of us working,
we can build a nest egg. I’ll open us a joint savings account and send you my paychecks.”

  “It’s you, not your paychecks, I want, Abe. Where will you be stationed?”

  “At an airbase in the desert north of Los Angeles. Muroc Bombing and Gunnery Range. It’s desolate out there. I’ll be living in a tent. It’s no place for a woman to be, Margie.”

  “A bombing and gunnery range?”

  “I’ll be learning aerial combat. When I finish, I’ll be qualified to fly fighter planes.” He held her hand. “Is a June wedding okay? I promise you an extra-special honeymoon.”

  A year to wait. She loathed the thought of sleeping alone in her childhood bedroom while he was off learning to fly fighter planes. She tried to make light of it, but her voice sounded thin. “It better be an extra-extra-special honeymoon.”

  “I promise,” he said, handing her a small box.

  As he slid the engagement ring on her finger, the diamond sparkled like the brightest star in the sky, and her heart soared to the heavens.

  Margie fussed with her hair and makeup, then slipped on a green rayon blouse and a slim-fitting skirt. She checked her image in the mirror and liked how she looked, but she felt blue. She watched for Abe’s car from the front porch swing. Today was their last day together.

  Mama came out and sat beside her. “Where are you and Abe going?”

  “Ann Arbor. He wants to go through the art galleries and see what’s new. He used to talk about owning one. Did I ever tell you that? His uncle owned a gallery in Chicago. Abe spent summers there and did odd jobs. He liked hanging out with the artists.”

  Abe pulled up in front of the house and waved through the car’s open window. Margie slid over close to him. She hollered to Mama, “We’re meeting friends for dinner. We might be home late.”

  As they drove, Margie considered Abe’s decision to become a fighter pilot. “You love it, don’t you? What’s it like up there in the sky?”

  “Cold mostly.” He laughed, then sobered. “Flying up through the clouds and breaking into the clear—it’s exhilarating. I like it all—the planning, the anticipation, the preflight procedures, waiting to hear those three little words”—he grinned—“cleared for takeoff.” The force of the acceleration pushes you back in the seat.”

  “You’re never afraid?”

  “No. When I’m up there I’m in total control. Free as a bird. Then during the landing approach, the wind whistles in my ears, the ground rushes toward me, and my heart races. There’s nothing like it.” He thought a moment. “I take it back. I was afraid once. My first inverted flight. I was at four thousand feet and dangling upside down. I couldn’t see because all the dirt from the plane was flying in my face. Then I felt the harness give. You better believe I prayed like a repentant sinner! Whoo-ee! What a rush!”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. The plane righted.”

  “That sounds horrible.”

  “Nah! I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  Taken aback by his tone, she gazed out the side window. Sometimes Abe seemed different from before his flight training—arrogant, and dismissive of her. Her ire up, she spit back, “Of course, you wouldn’t expect little old me to understand. If I’m so dull-witted, why don’t you just take me home?”

  A look of confusion covered his face and he quickly said, “Come on, Margie. That’s not what I meant. Look. For me, flying is the ultimate thrill. That’s all. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Nothing to do with me? Everything you do impacts me. We’re getting married, Abe. Now you want to be a fighter pilot. Why didn’t you ask me how I felt about it? Ever since you told me, I’ve been having trouble sleeping. What’s this need of yours to push to the edge?”

  He grimaced and slapped the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “It’s my life. I’ll live it my way, okay?”

  Margie jumped at the sharp retort and felt like she’d been stabbed through the heart. “Fine, if that’s what you want. You go your way, and I’ll go mine. I’ll call off the wedding.” The passing scenery blurred through her tears. Just saying those ugly words opened a door she didn’t want to go through. She held her breath, waiting for his response.

  He pulled to the side of the road and turned toward her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I love you. I need you, Margie. You keep me grounded. I don’t want to live my life separate from you.” He ran his fingers through tendrils of her hair. “What do I have to do to prove that to you?”

  “Just be your old self. You seem to be moving away from me.”

  “I’m not! It only seems that way because we are apart so much. That will change. Soon we’ll be married and living together. I dream about that. You’ll work in a hospital, and I’ll fly planes. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

  Margie’s defenses melted, and she kissed the grin she loved so much. He’d be leaving for California in a few hours, and she didn’t want to squabble.

  He turned back onto the road. “All right. No more serious talk. No more thinking about tomorrow. It’s just you and me and a sunny day. Send me off with a bang, baby.”

  “All right, fella. If it’s a bang you want, you got it.”

  They toured the art museum and roamed through Ann Arbor’s galleries and antique shops. Abe bought a filigree brooch and pinned it on the collar of her blouse, where his hand lingered before caressing her chin. In a used-book store, she purchased The History of Military Aviation and wrote inside the front cover, To my favorite flyboy. I’ll love you forever.

  That evening they met Diane and Paul at the Kneebone, a jazz club where blue lights illuminated the dining room. They could barely see their booth until the silhouette of the waitress lit a tiny candle. The air was heavy with smoke and smelled of garlic and hot sauce, and Ethel Waters’s “Stormy Weather” played on the jukebox. The foursome drank pitchers of beer and ate slabs of barbecued ribs.

  Margie showed off her new diamond ring, and Diane and Paul chattered about their own upcoming wedding.

  No one mentioned the listless economy, the war escalating in Europe, or Abe’s leaving for California in the morning. They left the Kneebone and went to Charlie’s, where a combo played dance tunes. Margie and Abe clung to each other on the dance floor, and she struggled not to dwell on their parting, but, nevertheless, she left tearstains on his shoulder.

  As she quietly cried, he pulled her closer against him and nuzzled his nose into her hair.

  And so the evening went.

  “Are you sure you can drive?” she asked.

  “Why not?” he said, stumbling into the driver’s seat.

  He drove while she dozed. Pulling into a park on the edge of town, he stopped the car behind a dense grove of trees. Sitting up, she looked around. “Where are we?”

  “Davis Park. I don’t want this night with you to end.” He pushed the seat back and turned on the radio to a station playing Frank Sinatra crooning “The Lamp Is Low,” then reached for her. She scooted closer. She didn’t want this night to end either.

  They shared deep kisses as he unbuttoned her blouse and released the clasp on her brassiere. He covered her face, neck, and breasts with flicking kisses.

  Margie ran her fingers through his hair as she enjoyed the sensations that were coursing through her body.

  Abe’s kisses came back to her face, and he murmured, “Make love to me, Margie.” He caressed her breasts and gently squeezed a nipple.

  “We shouldn’t,” she managed to whisper, but as he slipped his hand under her skirt, she unzipped his trousers. He groaned in pleasure, and his fingers sought the edges of her panties.

  She pulled away. “We can’t do this,” she said, but she was pulsing with desire. “What if I get pregnant?”

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a condom, then pressed it into her hand.

  “What’s this? Oh! You devil! Where did you get it?”

  He flicked her earlobe with his tongue. “T
hey give them out like candy at the base.”

  She recoiled, feeling herself blush. “You?”

  “No. Not once. Not without you.”

  She nestled into him. What would it hurt? Their wedding plans had been set into motion, and he was leaving in the morning. She caressed his face.

  “Make love to me, Margie. We’ve waited so long. We’re not children anymore, and I love you so much.” He pressed into her while his hands moved roughly over her breasts, down her back, and under her skirt again. His fingers tugged at her panties. “Please, Margie. I can’t leave you again without making love to you.”

  Desire overwhelmed her, going contrary to everything she’d ever been taught. She was so in love, and they were parting. She couldn’t refuse Abe. She didn’t want to. Not again. Not this time. Shivering with anticipation, she whispered, “Okay.”

  “Okay!” he murmured. Elbows and ankles jockeyed for space in the tight confines of the car as they made love, her head at an odd angle, and him heavy on top.

  Withdrawing, he threw the condom out the car window and cleaned them both up with his handkerchief. They stayed in Davis Park for a while, disheveled, panting, entwined in each other’s arms, and in awe at the enormity of this new experience.

  CHAPTER 5

  Little River, June 1939–January 1941

  Saying good-bye to Abe had been grim. In the week since he left, she constantly thought about their last night together. What had possessed her? Too much to drink? His persistence? Her love for him? Truth be told, she was glad to get the initiation out of the way. Was that normal? With Evelyn away at Annapolis, she had no one to talk to about it.

  She reported for her first day of work at the Red Cross. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Myra said. A compact dynamo of a woman, she never seemed to stop moving. She took Margie to a small desk in a back corner and wheeled over a chair. “You’ll be teaching first aid to the Health Aid Corps and supervising the Junior Red Cross. They’re a fun bunch of girls. You’ll enjoy them.”