Farewell PFC Polk: The End of a Nightmare (In the Valley of Hope Book 2)

by Richard Weirich

  “Woody found us a house out in the country. Has a big old yard.”

  “Can you afford it?” asked Mable. “You know your history with handling money.”

  Woody attempted to defend their decision. “Got a real good deal. Just thirty a month.”

  “You told me, twenty,” snapped Helen.

  “Well, maybe it is twenty.”

  And once again, they were back at it. “Which is it. Twenty or thirty?”

  “What difference is it to you?” said Woody while cutting another piece of pound cake. “I’m the one that makes the money.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” asked Charlie, who was now standing in the doorway to the living room.

  “Just some electrical wiring issues and a coal furnace that needs some work. Plumbing’s a little strange. Uses a cistern. For hot water, you have to light the coal furnace.”

  “Never heard of such,” said Mable.

  Charlie hummed louder than usual.

  Hoping to put an end to the feud, Buddy offered to help them move to their new home. “Be happy to help. They want us to stay in shape.”

  After the feast, Helen produced her Kodac for a photo session and handed out so many orders that Buddy told her that she should have been a drill instructor. “You and Sgt. Robicheaux would have gotten along just fine.”

  Buddy retired early that evening, partly because he was tired, but mostly out of boredom. The previous three months were rapidly paced with scarce idle time. Relaxing in front of a television had lost its appeal. When he bid his parents “Goodnight,” his mother remembered something she forgot to tell him.

  “You’ve got mail. On top of the TV.”

  He was surprised to find a stack of letters including an end-of-year statement from the First National Bank, Albert Funk wanted to sell him a life insurance policy, and the Strasburg Ford dealership wanted him to buy a new car at their lowest prices ever. Nothing of interest really, until he got to the bottom of the pile where he found a Christmas card from Sally Duffy and inside was a letter and a photo.

  “Dear, Charles. You said you were going to send me your South Carolina address. Maybe you were just too busy so I thought I would have something waiting for you when you got back home. I hope you still think about me. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. You are on my mind every single day. I still care for you very much and fear that you have moved on with somebody else. Please, please, call me or write me to let me know that you’re OK. Even better would be if we could get together when you come home. I will never ever forget you. Please don’t forget me. All my love, Sally.”

  Buddy read the letter twice and stared at her picture. Her closing line was of particular interest. “All my love.” Why didn’t she tell him that the last time he saw her? He poured out his heart. Told her how he felt. Expressed his undying love. The way she looked at him and kissed him…if that wasn’t love then what was it? But then, she turned and walked away without saying a word. And now she wanted to see him again?

  His pals in the Corps spoke with great certainty about the impossibility of understanding women. “Don’t bother tryin’ to figure them out. Can’t be done. And beware, they can be more ruthless than any enemy combatant you will ever face.” Was that it? Did she want him to travel all the way to West Point just so she could stomp on his heart again?

  Despite all that great Marine Corps advice it still didn’t keep him from wanting to see her. But as he considered the possibility there were just too many obstacles standing in the way. He still didn’t have wheels. It was unconscionable that he was still on foot, walking those same Strasburg streets he had traveled since he was a boy. Unfortunately, he had not been able to put aside an adequate amount for a down payment on a vehicle. Journeying by bus to West Point was out of the question. He owed that limited time at home to his parents. It would be a year before he would get to see them again. Ultimately, Buddy determined that a letter was the best course of action and so, he began to write, or that is, he stared at a piece of stationary that contained only the words, “Dear Sally.” Soon after, with nothing more to his composition than a salutation, he fell asleep.

  The old nightmare from his youth returned that night and when he awoke the next morning, there was a new development, a missing piece of the puzzle. He tried to dismiss it as a foolish notion, silliness, just an out of control imagination. According to the latest version of the dream, among the strangers in the dark room of sorrow was Sally. Was that because of her letter? First time he saw her at the West Point Hotel, he thought that he had met her before. That was definitely her in the vision, dressed in black, sitting by his mother who was holding her hand, and clutching the unidentifiable photo.

  As in the days of his childhood, he sat up in his bed, examined his surroundings, and verified that he was still living in the real world. The smoky aroma of bacon frying and the sound of pots and pans banging in the kitchen were another telltale sign of the present reality, which motivated him to push off the pile of covers and set foot on the cold vinyl floor covering. Since there was no heat upstairs, he hurriedly put on his civilian clothes only to discover that his jeans were too big and his old sweatshirt looked like a maternity top. The Corps had whipped him into the best condition of his life which would likely mean that an updated wardrobe would be in his future.

  With breakfast out of the way and after another round of interrogation from his mother, Buddy returned to his cold bedroom to finish the letter to Sally. After several failed attempts, he gave up, threw on a jacket, and went outside to feed Inky. Once back inside he sat on a footstool in the living room and polished his boots while Mable watched a soap opera. Twice he made trips to the kitchen, once for a piece of apple pie and the second for a large glass of iced tea.

  His mother observed that he was “fidgety.” You need to settle,” she said. You’re making me nervous.”

  “Forgot what it was like to sit still,” he said now standing at the front door peering through the window. “How did you get Daddy to buy a new stove? Had to be expensive.”

  “Caught him when he was happy.”

  That was all the answer Buddy needed to his question. Charlie was always generous when he was drunk. Best time to ask him for anything. “Still drinkin’, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  The telephone rang loudly, interrupting their conversation. Mable answered. “Hello. Oh, Hi, Donnie. He’s right here.”

  “My parents are throwing a welcome-home party this evening. Be here at 6:00 and wear your uniform.”

  Buddy wasn’t too keen on the idea of dressing out for the affair, but Donnie explained that his parents would be taking pictures.

  “Have you talked to Bobbie Jean?” asked Donnie.

  “Nope. Haven’t gotten around to calling her.”

  “Just a heads’ up. She’s dating Cliff Norris. They’ll be here, together.”

  Actually, Buddy was relieved that Bobbie Jean was finally off the market. She was a good friend, but he still had no romantic interest. And he sure didn’t expect her to wait for him to have a change of heart. Still on his mind was how he should respond to Sally. It would be rude to completely ignore her. Once, he had allowed himself to get close enough to get burned but never again. Substantial distance and keeping himself busy were the only strategies that helped ease the pain of his broken heart. One look into Sally’s beautiful brown eyes would be all that it would take for him to fall back in harm’s way. Even the sound of her voice was a lethal weapon. And writing a letter that expressed his true feelings made him vulnerable. Maybe I’ll just stop by the drugstore and get her a card, he reasoned. “Missing you.” Nope. Too telling. “Wish you were here.” No. She might get on the next bus out of town. And then he had an epiphany. A Christmas card. I’ll send her a belated Christmas card.

  At 5:30, Buddy presented himself to his parents for inspection in his dress uniform.

  “You look beautiful,” said Mable while his dad smiled from his easy chair.

  Buddy
chuckled at her response. “Was kind of hoping for…handsome or good looking.”

  “When will you be home?”

  “Shouldn’t be too late but don’t wait up.”

  “You know I worry.”

  “Mom, this is Strasburg. Worst crime here in the last twenty years was a stolen candy bar from the Newsstand. Pretty sure I can take care of myself.”

  “It’s a mother’s job to worry.”

  “Want a ride?” asked Charlie. “Cold out there.”

  “Need the exercise,” said Buddy while opening the front door.

  Rounding the corner where Holiday Street intersects with King Street, Buddy observed one thing that had definitely not changed about his hometown. The corner gang still manned their station in front of the Virginia Restaurant. They had borrowed a slogan from the Postal Service, “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night” would pry them from their hallowed spot. Among them, Buddy spotted the ring-leader for the skunk incident that broke up Career Day at the High School in the Spring of ’53. With a temperature hovering in the teens, Butch Abernathy displayed his toughness by standing there without a coat and wearing only a t-shirt with rolled up sleeves. He warmed himself by tucking his hands into his jeans’ pockets and holding his arms tightly against his body as he jiggled up and down.

  “Hey, Butch. How’s it going?” asked Buddy as he stopped to talk to the aging bully.

  Butch and his cronies sized up their Marine visitor.

  “Charles Polk,” said Buddy to jog Butch’s memory.

  “Are you kidding me? Hey, man. Didn’t recognize you in that uniform.”

  Somehow, Butch seemed far less menacing than he did in the halls of SHS and when Buddy reached out to shake his hand, Butch flashed a big smile. It was a rare occasion when one of his old classmates cared enough to talk to him. “Been thinking about joining up myself.”

  “Well, come on, then. The Marines are always looking for good men.”

  “Thinkin’ about the Navy.”

  “We’re all on the same team. Like they say, ‘join the Navy and see the world.’”

  “Just might do it.”

  When Buddy arrived at the Turner home, he was greeted by Donnie’s 16-year-old sister, Kristen and her best friend, Candy Huffman, who giggled with delight when getting a glimpse of the man in uniform.

  “He’s a dreamboat,” she whispered while gawking at Buddy, who had responded to Donnie’s invitation to join them in the kitchen.

  Ruth Turner called to her son, “You two go stand in front of the fireplace. I’ll get the camera.”

  While Buddy and Donnie posed for photos, Bobbie Jean arrived with her date and when she made eye contact with Buddy, she quickly looked away. Buddy didn’t know what to make of her behavior. Maybe she was embarrassed to be seen with another fellow or possibly she was mad at him for not pursuing a relationship with her.

  The door opened again revealing an unexpected guest that caused Donnie to quickly end the photo session. “That’s enough, Mom.”

  “But I didn’t get a picture with you and your sister.”

  “Later,” said Donnie, who grabbed Buddy’s arm and dragged him to the kitchen. “What’s she doing here? I told Mom not to invite her.”

  “She’s by herself,” replied Buddy. It’s not like her to want to stir up trouble. Besides, after all you went through in Boot, this is a piece of cake.”

  “Hey, Buddy. Hey, Donnie,” announced Trudy upon entering the kitchen. “Welcome home.”

  “Yeah, welcome home,” added Bobbie Jean still having trouble looking at Buddy.

  “Donnie, you were right about those uniforms,” said Trudy. “Your little sister and her friend are about to pass out. Even my heart rate kicked up a little. Woo-woo.” Trudy pretended to fan herself and then gave both Marines a big hug.

  Any awkwardness that existed between the old friends was soon over and the party progressed without incident. Bobbie Jean seemed relieved by Buddy’s reaction to her new boyfriend, Cliff Norris., although Buddy was surprised with her choice. Cliff was considerably shorter than Bobbie and to the best of Buddy’s recollection, Cliff suffered from short man’s syndrome, a reputed jerk.

  The old friends sat down in the living room, munched on party food, shared old memories, and listened to Donnie tell exaggerated tales about Boot Camp.

  “Buddy nearly got both of us thrown in the brig,” said Donnie, referring to the day that Buddy came to the rescue of Lester.

  The girls were shocked that Buddy would do anything that would cause trouble. They were all ears, but Cliff had heard enough. “Me and Bobbie Jean have been talkin’ about getting’ hitched.”

  Donnie quickly shut up and relinquished the floor.

  “We just talked about it,” said Bobbie Jean, embarrassed by the premature announcement.

  Cliff put his arm around Bobbie Jean and kissed her on the cheek. “She’s crazy about me. Ain’t you, baby?”

  “Down, boy,” said Trudy, joking to ease the rising tension.

  Bobbie Jean tried to remove Cliff’s arm from her shoulders. “This is not the time or the place. Remove your arm.”

  Donnie looked at Buddy and then he firmly ordered Cliff to honor Bobbie Jean’s request.

  Cliff laughed and arrogantly defied Donnie’s directive. “Oh, big Marine tough guy, huh? I could take you in grade school and I could whip your tail in high school. That uniform ain’t changed nothin’.”

  Donnie jumped up and before he could lunge at Cliff, Buddy pulled him back down on the sofa. “There will be none of that.”

  “I am so sorry,” said Bobbie Jean. “Cliff, it’s time for you to leave.”

  “Cowards. Both of you are nothing but chickens,” grumbled Cliff, who then stood up and issued an order to Bobbie Jean. “Let’s go where we’re appreciated. Get a move on. Now.”

  “I’ll walk home, thank you. Not going anywhere with you, especially after embarrassing me in front of my friends.”

  Before Cliff slammed the door, he yelled back at Buddy and Donnie. “Better watch your back,” and then he slammed the door.

  Donnie said what Buddy was thinking. “What on earth do you see in that guy, Bobbie? He’s a…”

  “Butt?” said Bobbie. “Thought maybe I could change him.”

  “Not working,” said Trudy, who again tried to defuse the explosive situation. “I brought cake. Let’s check it out.”

  Buddy remained strangely quiet. It seldom happened, but he was fuming mad.

  About 11:00, Donnie’s mother suggested that it was time to wrap up the party. When Bobbie started to leave, Buddy offered to walk her home. It gave him an opportunity to try to talk some sense into her regarding Cliff. “Maybe I’m not the one to be telling you this, but Cliff is not right for you.”

  “Things have changed in Strasburg. Our friends have moved on, like you and Donnie. Cliff is about all that’s left.”

  “You don’t have to settle for just anybody. Take your time and find the right guy.”

  “I did find the right guy…but it didn’t work out,” she said, taking an apparent dig at him. “This just friends thing is for the birds.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re really a special girl. You really are. There’s just something inside of me that says ‘wait.’ Don’t know why or what it is that I’m supposed to be waiting for.”

  “Buddy, I wish I could hang on long enough for you to figure out what you’re waiting for …but I can’t. I’ve got to get away from my mother. It’s hell in there,” she said pointing up ahead to her home.

  “Well, Cliff sure as heck isn’t your answer.”

  “Can’t you see what’s going on here? I’m in love with you. You have no idea what it’s like to love somebody with all your heart when they don’t love you back.”

  Actually, Buddy did know, all too well. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Bobbie had spoken before she thought. “How about, I love you, too?” She could have kicked herself for saying something so foo
lish. “I am so sorry. I should never have said that. It’s just that…I’m crazy about you. See what you do to me? You make me act all stupid. I’m so into you that, even when I’m with Cliff, I pretend it’s you. Look, I’ve said enough, more than enough. I’ve got to get into the house.” She paused briefly and looked longingly into Buddy’s face. “Love the uniform…but you’re still the same good guy that you’ve always been. When do you go back?”

  “Report back on the 14th,” said Buddy, who was feeling awful about rejecting her.

  “Take care of yourself,” she said, then kissed him on the cheek and climbed the steps to the front porch.

  Buddy stood outside her house for a moment and wondered what went on inside to cause her to hate living there. Oddly, Bobbie Jean had disclosed few details of what made her home life so miserable. She had only offered that her mother was a control freak. The same could be said of his mom. Got on his nerves but not to the point that it made him want to move out and do something senseless. Her mother seemed nice enough, but one never knows what goes on behind closed doors.

  As he turned to head back home, a few snowflakes appeared, visible under a dim streetlight. Although there wasn’t much to it, the faint hope of a little snow provided sufficient incentive for him to take the long way home. It didn’t even seem as cold as it had earlier in the evening.

  When he rounded Queen Street onto Sharpe Street, he thought he heard footsteps coming from behind him. He stopped briefly, looked over his shoulder, but he was clearly alone. And then he heard the sound of someone running in his direction.

  “You and me have some unfinished business. Told you to watch your back,” yelled Cliff as he charged toward Buddy in an attempt to take him down.

  It’s hard to say who was shocked more by what happened next. Cliff lay face down, writhing in pain, with Buddy’s knee in his back.

  “You’re breaking my arm,” bemoaned Cliff as Buddy jammed his assailant’s arm toward his shoulder blades.

  “I’m going to count to ten,” said Buddy as he applied more pressure. “When I get to ten, you’re going to get on your feet and run back in the direction you came. And don’t ever let me see your squirrely face again.” Buddy was in no hurry to complete his counting exercise and he really didn’t care if Cliff’s arm was broken. “I better never hear that you laid a hand on Bobbie Jean. Do we have an understanding?”