Rose of Anzio - Moonlight (Volume 1)

by Alexa Kang

  “Okay…” He scanned the room. “Anthony!”

  Anthony winced.

  “Would you please take a seat next to Tom?”

  “No. I prefer not.” Anthony remained in his seat. “Actually, you, Brandon, and Gretchen should line up together for a photo and get this over with. They deserve to be in the picture. And it’s getting late. We all have homework to do.”

  His refusal threw Nate off guard. “Of course. Brandon and Gretchen are invaluable to us. They are absolutely essential to what we do. We all know that, right?” Nate looked at the rest of the students, seeking their support. Some nodded. Everyone seemed to agree. “This photo is a rare opportunity to send a message. Brandon and Gretchen are already represented by me. For publicity’s sake, it’ll be good to show different types of students supporting our cause.”

  “You mean to show people who will make you look good.”

  Everyone stared at them. Nate held up his index finger, signaling a request to the student reporter and photographer to give him a minute, then turned to Anthony. “No,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “Not to make me look good. To make the CDA look good.”

  How could anyone believe that? Part of him wanted to expose Nate, but he had no desire to prolong his own part in this nonsense. He stood up and swung his school bag onto his shoulder. “I’m done here for tonight. You all carry on.” He walked out of the classroom, leaving Nate to deal with the photographer who had snapped multiple shots of their falling-out.

  “Anthony. Anthony! Wait up!” Brandon chased after him in the hallway.

  Anthony stopped.

  “I’m sorry about all that. Nate got carried away. He only wants to do what’s best for the group.”

  “How was that best for the group? You did so much work and he wouldn’t even publicly acknowledge you for it.”

  “The newspaper photo? I don’t care about that.” Brandon waved his hand.

  “He wants to hog the spotlight for himself. He doesn’t want you or Gretchen to get the credit.”

  “That’s not true.” Brandon shook his head. “Nate’s right. It would bring more publicity to our cause if people know you and Tom are a part of us.”

  He couldn’t contain his irritation any longer. Why couldn’t Brandon see what was happening? This was not the Brandon he knew. “You know, this cult of Nate Sanders, it has to stop.”

  “Cult of Nate Sanders?” Brandon chuckled. “What are you talking about?”

  “You listen to him too much. He’s a demagogue. You’re better off without him.”

  “No. You’re wrong about him. I know Nate. Everything he does is to gain us support. Look how big the CDA has grown since we started. You remember, don’t you? Our first meeting? Ten people besides us came. Look where we are now. It’s all because of Nate.”

  It was hopeless. He didn’t want to listen anymore. It hurt him to see Brandon losing his senses under Nate’s influence. “I’ll see you back in the room.” He turned around and walked away.

  Brandon watched him leave, then turned in the other direction back to the classroom.

  # # #

  “I’m very sorry about Nate earlier,” Brandon apologized again when he returned to their room. “He got carried away.”

  “It’s okay,” Anthony said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “You won’t stop coming to our meetings, will you?”

  He wanted to say yes, but couldn’t bring himself to turn Brandon down. “No. Of course I’m still coming.” He turned around from his desk. “We won again yesterday.” He tried to change the subject.

  “What?” Brandon looked at him, confused.

  “The swim team. We advanced to the finals for the relay.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” Brandon sat down and pulled out his books. “Congratulations. That’s really great.” He hardly sounded like he cared.

  His utter disinterest hurt, but Anthony forced himself to let it go. It would do no good to dwell on this if Brandon no longer cared. “What time do you want to head to the lake on Sunday?”

  “The lake?”

  “The polar plunge. It’s this Sunday, remember?”

  “Is it this Sunday? I forgot all about it.” He looked at the calendar on the wall. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t?” Anthony couldn’t believe it. They had been doing the polar plunge together since they were sixteen. They had made a pact since then to do it every year. How could he not go? How could he forget?

  “I’m sorry, but Nate and I have plans on Sunday to draft the speech we’ll be giving at the national CDA meeting in two weeks.”

  Trying not to show he was upset, Anthony said quietly while he avoided looking at Brandon, “You have two weeks. Can’t it wait? The polar plunge is only one afternoon.”

  “I am sorry. I really am. But I already told Nate I’d work on the speech with him. It’s important. We want to do everything right before the national committee. There’s a lot of work still to be done.”

  Disappointed and angry, Anthony returned to his studies and flipped to the next page of his book.

  “Hey, you’re okay with this, right?” Brandon asked. “I mean, some of the other guys on the swim team will be going too, won’t they? You won’t have to go alone.”

  “Sure. It’s okay.” What more was there to say? Whether he would go to the polar plunge alone or with other people was not the issue. He kept his head down and his back toward Brandon, and pretended to be doing his homework.

  # # #

  Easter holiday was a welcome break. Although he hated to admit it, Anthony had looked forward to getting away from the ever-present tension that now hung between him and Brandon. Maybe a time-out from each other would do them good.

  Returning from the gym late one afternoon, he came into the main parlor, where his father was reading the newspaper and his mother was listening to the radio detective series The Adventures of Ellery Queen. The program had just reached the part where the guest armchair detectives, this time four people all with the name John Smith, gave their theories on whodunnit.

  “They’re all wrong,” his mother said and proffered her own theory to his father. The warmth of the room thawed his skin and the fireplace crackled.

  “Why don’t you join us?” his father asked.

  “I will. After I shower.”

  William returned to the newspaper and Sophia continued listening to the show. He left them and went upstairs.

  Could life stay peaceful like this, always?

  He knew right then he wouldn’t want to leave his family to fight a war in Europe.

  Let those who had bigger dreams and higher ambitions run the world. He loved life the way it was. He wouldn’t want to change anything.

  He went to his room and took a quick shower, then headed downstairs to the library to pick a book to read. Not expecting to find anyone inside, he shoved the door open. The sun had gone down and the lights were off. In the dim interior of the library, the lone silhouette by the window took him by surprise.

  Tessa turned around, startled.

  Recomposing herself, she picked up the envelopes on the window-sill. “Excuse me.” In a hurry to leave, she jostled him as she passed through the door. Her eyes looked wet like she had been crying. In the faint light, he couldn’t tell for sure.

  He switched on the lights. A newspaper clipping lay on the floor. Tessa must have dropped it when she rushed out the door. He picked it up. “Blitz Bombing Goes On All Night,” the headline read, followed by the subhead, “Hospital ringed by explosions.”

  Was this the hospital where her mother worked? He wondered if he should return the news clip to her.

  He pulled an old book of Greek mythology off the bookshelf and returned to the parlor. At the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to the second floor toward her bedroom. No. Better to keep the news clip. Returning it to her would only remind her of the sad news. He slid it under the cover of his book and joined his parents.

  “Would you like some cake?” his m
other asked him when he entered. Two empty desert plates and cups sat on the coffee table.

  “No thanks.”

  The radio show was still going. Sophia listened with a huge smile on her face. William took a puff of his pipe, occasionally nodding to himself when he read something he liked in the newspaper.

  It was so comforting to be home on an ordinary day, to see his parents alive and well. He sat down with them and opened his book.

  The news clip about the London hospital bombing stared back at him. What did Tessa think when she saw how peacefully they lived every day while her own parents were under siege in London?

  On the display case behind his father, the old photo of Uncle Lex in his Air Force uniform showed him proudly climbing into his airplane.

  At CDA meetings, Nate Sanders espoused the principles of preservation of democracies and the righteousness of supporting Britain. He warned of a doomsday of apocalyptic proportions if America refused to take a stand. So far, nothing Nate had said had convinced him. He didn’t care for these lofty ideals and grandstanding. Uncle Leon was right. Lex died, but the wars didn’t end. Nothing Lex fought for had lasted.

  But what about those who didn’t have a choice?

  He picked up the news clip. Did Tessa cry because her mother might have been at the hospital? If he was her, he would want to be in England too where his parents were, not far away in a distant country.

  Next to the radio, Sophia fiddled with the tuner to search for a different radio station. The detective adventure program she was listening to earlier had ended.

  He looked at the news headline again. Brandon didn’t understand. He was just an ordinary college student. They both were. They had no power to change the world or alter the course of history by themselves no matter how passionate they felt. He didn’t want to go to war for some lofty, far-fetched ideal. Not when his family had already suffered one great loss from which they had never truly recovered. He wanted his mother happy and free of worries like she was now. His family. That was what mattered to him the most.

  But if the war ever threatened his family, if anything ever placed his parents at risk, he would do everything he could to defend them.

  Chapter 12

  “Brandon! Anthony!” Gretchen Moore came running after them as they came out of Phys. Ed. class. “Nate’s disappeared. He’s gone.”

  “What do you mean, gone?” Brandon asked.

  “He took all his things and left school. No one has seen him for days.”

  “Are you sure?” Anthony asked. “Did he go home? Maybe he had something to do outside of school?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s more than that.”

  “What is it?” Brandon asked.

  “He got a summons from the County Draft Board five days ago. I was with him when he got it. We picked up our mail together at the mailroom. When he saw the summons, he panicked. He said he can’t go, that his work here getting the message out was too important. He wanted me to help him figure out how to get exempted. I was so surprised to hear him say that, but I thought he was in shock. I thought he needed time for the news to sink in.” She looked at Brandon. “He asked me not to tell you. He said he wanted to tell you himself.”

  Speechless, Brandon’s face dropped.

  “That was before the weekend,” Gretchen said. “I didn’t see him again after that. He and I were supposed to meet today to prep for the CDA rally this evening but he never showed up. I went to his dorm. No one has seen him. The last time anyone saw him was five days ago, the same day he got the summons. His dorm advisor checked his room. He’s not there. All of his things are gone.”

  “Could he have left to report for duty?” Brandon asked.

  Anthony was about to make a snide remark, but held his tongue when he saw how distressed Gretchen was.

  “I don’t know.” Gretchen shook her head again. “His dorm advisor called the County Draft Board. He’s due to report for his qualifications exam tomorrow.” Hope returned to her eyes. “He wouldn’t leave for duty without saying goodbye, would he?”

  “He might. Maybe he didn’t want us to worry about him,” Brandon said.

  Anthony turned his head in case he appeared too unsympathetic. The blind faith Brandon had in Nate annoyed him.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Brandon said, more to himself than to anyone else. “He’s not missing. He’ll report for his exam tomorrow. He will. There has to be a good reason why he left without telling us. He didn’t want to upset us. That has to be it.”

  “What about our CDA rally tonight?” she asked. “What should we do?”

  “Cancel it. We’ll figure something out. Let’s go to his dorm. I’ll check his room. Maybe he left us a note or message.”

  Maybe pigs will fly, Anthony wanted to say when Brandon left with Gretchen. He felt sorry for them. By tomorrow this time, they would have to face the truth. Not a chance in a million would Nate show up for his qualifications exam. The guy had skipped town to evade the draft. He was sure of it.

  He would have to be there for Brandon when the truth came out. This would be a hard blow to him.

  On the bright side, maybe things would return to normal again. Maybe Brandon would finally see that all Nate orchestrated was nothing but a sham and drop the CDA. Maybe he would even return to the swim team.

  # # #

  As Anthony expected, Nate Sanders never showed up at the County Draft Board. Two days later, the military police came to his dorm with his arrest warrant, but no one knew where to find him. Nate Sanders had gone AWOL.

  Outside Nate’s dormitory, Brandon and Gretchen watched the events unfold. When they entered the student center afterward and sat down at his table, Anthony lost any interest he had in telling them what he had always thought about Nate. From the shock and disappointment on their faces, it was clear they had suffered a serious blow.

  “What are we going to do?” Gretchen asked. “How will we explain this to everyone?”

  Brandon had no answer.

  Anthony kept his feelings to himself. He didn’t want to upset them any further.

  Chapter 13

  For all the distress it was causing his friend, the disappearance of Nate Sanders and what should be done about it were the farthest things from Anthony’s mind. Good riddance as far as he was concerned. One less thing to contend with as the busy semester came to an end. He had term papers to write and exams to study for. He also had to decide whether to work for Uncle Leon this summer. On top of everything else, Professor Vinci wanted to see him.

  Vinci taught his Applied Physics class. A renowned physicist and a giant in his field, his name was known throughout the campus. Everyone revered him, even the university chancellor. Vinci looked the part of a cerebral scientist too. His silver-gray hair was always in need of a trim, and his suit was always wrinkled as if he had slept in it. His appearance didn’t concern him in the slightest. He always gave off the impression that he had bigger, more important matters on his mind, and he had no time for the mundane details of life.

  Mundane details like teaching. At higher learning institutions, there were always brilliant figures who took pride in cultivating young minds. They were academics who believed in spreading their knowledge. Those were the kind of instructors Anthony liked.

  Vinci was not one of them. For students, he was as remote as could be. Everyone knew Vinci’s purpose at the university was research. Even in class, they could sense teaching was a necessary burden for him, a nuisance he must endure in exchange for the benefits of access to facilities and resources for his own great work. He did accept requests for tutorial help from his students. His job duties required it. Beyond that, private access to him was rare. His engagement with students went no further than his office hours, which he kept at no more than the university required minimum of three hours per week.

  Not that his availability was ever an issue. Students wouldn’t go to him for help if they could avoid it. A meeting with Vinci would mean a f
ull session of humiliating talk-down. He treated everyone who asked questions as if they were stupid.

  So when he specifically asked Anthony to come by his office to see him, Anthony didn’t know if that meant good news or bad luck. He couldn’t imagine why the professor wanted to see him. He thought he did well enough in class. Hopefully, Vinci wasn’t calling him in to disparage him.

  “Anthony! Come in, please.” Vinci gave him a warm welcome.

  “Professor,” he said with the normal deference he would give to any authority figure in school. The professor’s friendly attitude confounded him. Keeping his distance, he took a seat in the guest chair.

  Vinci’s office reflected his person, somewhat messy and unorganized. Sketches and papers piled up on his desk. Books on physics, chemistry, and engineering lay in disorder on the shelves. Oddly, he had no personal effects in his office. Not a single photo of family, loved ones, or pets. No personal mementos or anything of sentimental value. Not even displays of awards or special acknowledgments or distinctions, although everyone knew he owned a collection of them. In this office, only work mattered.

  Except for one single sculpture amidst the stack of notes on his desk. Right away, Anthony recognized it as a replica of Auguste Rodin’s Hand of God. The sculpture was of a half-open palm holding two figures, presumably Adam and Eve, both curled in a struggling fetal position. The sculpture stood out prominently in sharp contrast to the bare practicality of the rest of the room.

  “Your performance in my class has been impressive,” Vinci said from behind his desk.

  “Thank you.”

  “Have you ever considered a career in science or engineering?”

  Anthony shook his head. “Not really.”

  “You should. You have a lot of potential.”