“Name, rank, and serial number,” she said briskly. Ruby rattled them off.
“This . . . Miss McIntyre, this isn’t what you think . . . what I mean is, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if I were in your position, I would be thinking ... it’s not like that ... I need to get in touch with Lieutenant Santos before I get married.”
“For a prospective bride, you don’t look real happy,” Mabel said bluntly.
Ruby nodded. “I guess I’m still in a daze. It just happened ... Andrew proposed last night, and I ... I’m ... I said yes, but . . .”
“You want to be sure. I understand, Ruby. Look, I’ll do my best. Is it all right to call you at the office?” Ruby nodded and wrote down the number and extension.
“I should have this information by noon tomorrow. Is that soon enough?”
“That’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this,” Ruby said quietly.
“I won’t tell anyone, either,” Mabel said softly. “Let’s just call it our little secret, okay?”
“Thanks, Miss McIntyre, I really appreciate what you’re doing for me. If I can ever do anything for you, just ask.”
“Be happy, Ruby.” Mabel leaned across her desk. “Take a good look at me. I’ve been in this job so long, I’m part of the furnishings. I’m an old maid waiting to collect my pension. All I have to show for my life is a small apartment in Arlington and two old tomcats. I let the right man get away from me once because I thought ... there was something better around the corner. There wasn’t. Go after what you want and don’t be afraid. My advice to you, my dear, is to follow your heart, cornball as it sounds.”
Somehow, Ruby managed to get through the rest of the day and the next morning, until Mabel McIntyre called her at two P.M.
Ruby held her breath as she scribbled frantically, taking down every single word the personnel director uttered.
Mabel McIntyre’s voice lowered to a bare whisper. “Ruby, why don’t you think of a reason to call Clark Air Force Base? Doesn’t the old reprobate still play chess? Tell him there’s an officer there who is a champion chess player, or make up some story. You’ll have to be devious, can you do that? Lord, I don’t believe I’m telling you this. Whatever you do, good luck,” the personnel director said, breaking the connection.
In longhand Ruby transcribed the squiggly notes. Calvin Santos was stationed at Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines, recently transferred from Germany, and would be transferred again very shortly to Yokota Air Force Base in Japan. The last transcribed squiggly marks were the main telephone number for Clark.
A quick glance at the maritime chart pasted on the pull-out tray of her desk told her she would have to wait till, at the very least, seven o’clock to call the Philippines because they were twelve hours behind the eastern United States.
Ruby’s thoughts were frenzied as she contemplated how she could call Clark, using the military line on her desk. If she got caught, she could get fired. Instinct told her to be bold and brazen and just do it and suffer the consequences. Logic that wasn’t working at full capacity warned her to go slow and create a cover story for the phone call.
God, why was she going through this? Where’s your pride?
“I don’t have any,” she whispered, “when it comes to Calvin.” Two and a half years is a long time. He could have gotten in touch with you if he wanted to. His career is more important than you are, her conscience needled. There’s no way you can justify his silence where you’re concerned. You’re making a fool of yourself. “I have to try. Circumstances . . . maybe something ... his commanding officer must have scared him with my father’s threat. Once more, just once more. If I can’t get through this time, then ... then I’ll forget him once and for all Marriage is too big a step to take ... I have to be sure, really sure,” Ruby whispered.
The cover story, the lie, when she came up with it ten minutes later, was almost foolproof, Ruby thought.
For weeks now the admiral had been dithering about an upcoming chess game between himself and a Marine Corps general who, according to the admiral, was a top-notch player.
Ruby poked her head in the door of the admiral’s office. “Sir, I just thought of something. It might help you next week in your chess game. A friend of mine told me there’s a lieutenant stationed at Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines who is a cracker-jack chess player. Apparently he hates the army and the marines but is partial to the navy. Maybe he knows something about this general’s game. I’ve heard he’s played half the brass in all four services. I could call him after seven and see if he can help. I don’t mind staying late.”
“Damn good idea, Ruby. What would I do without you? I was just saying to Mrs. Query last night that without you I couldn’t keep it all together. Run it up the flagpole, Ruby.”
“Yes, sir,” Ruby lied.
It wasn’t until the admiral left for his barber that Ruby realized she’d boxed herself into a corner. When no Air Force chess player surfaced, how was she going to explain it to the admiral? Lord, what if he decided to call Clark himself and asked her for the name of the fictitious chess player? If there was one thing the admiral took seriously, it was his chess game. Ruby groaned.
Precisely at six o’clock, her heart hammering in her chest, Ruby dialed the Pentagon operator and placed her call. While she waited for the call to go through, she sucked on a long peel of orange rind. When a voice with a southern drawl came on the line, Ruby almost fainted.
“Clark Air Force Base, Airman Cummings speaking.”
Ruby’s voice turned brisk and professional. “This is Admiral Query’s office in the Pentagon, Airman. The admiral would like to speak with Lieutenant Calvin Santos.”
The airman snapped to full alert at the mention of the admiral’s name. “I’ll have to put you on hold, ma’am, till I see if I can locate the lieutenant. It’s only six A.M here,” he said.
“Admiral Query says the military rises at five. Do your best, Airman.”
Ruby waited, her forehead beaded with sweat, for five minutes, and then another five minutes crawled by until the southern-sounding voice came on the line. Ruby’s heart thumped wildly.
“Lieutenant Santos is stateside, ma’am. Would you care to leave a message?”
“Stateside! You mean here in the States?” Ruby squealed, forgetting she was in a professional call. “Where stateside?” she managed to croak.
“I have no idea, ma’am,” the airman responded.
“Airman, that is not a response Admiral Query will accept. I suggest you run that one up the flagpole again and find out exactly where he is. I’ll hold.”
“Ma’am, that means I have to wake the lieutenant’s commanding officer,” the airman said hesitantly.
“I see your quandary, Airman. Perhaps it should be Admiral Query himself who wakes the lieutenant’s commanding officer. The admiral doesn’t much care for grunts, shavetails and pissants, Airman,” Ruby said coolly.
Ruby smiled when she heard the airman groan. “My ass is going to be in a sling. Major Oliver said he wasn’t to be awakened unless the base was on fire. Sorry, ma’am, I forgot I was talking to a lady. I’ll get him on the horn, hold on.”
Ruby wondered idly what the navy did to civilian employees who used their boss’s name under false pretenses. She waited, her fingers drumming on the desk. She was so close to finding Calvin. Stateside. She could call him, offer to visit. Her heart soared. Finally.
“Major Oliver,” a voice barked. Ruby went through her spiel a second time. She only half heard the major’s comment about goddamn Navy fish who thought they ran the world. “Lieutenant Santos is on leave. He checked out a week ago and went stateside.”
Ruby’s hackles rose. “I know that, Major, so does the admiral. Admiral Query wants to know exactly where Lieutenant Santos is stateside.”
“Charleston Air Base in South Carolina. He checked in on arrival. He may have left an address. Will that be all, miss?”
“Yes. Thank you, Major.” Ruby
thought she heard a chuckle on the other end of the phone.
Ruby hugged her shorthand notes to her chest, a look of pure bliss on her face. Calvin was here in the States, in South Carolina. Should she call now or wait till morning? Lightheaded with the thought, she leaned back in her chair, forcing herself to take deep breaths. She felt as though she’d just awakened from a deep sleep.
There was a sparkle in Ruby’s eyes and a breathless lilt in her voice when she placed the second call: Still using Admiral Query’s name, she waited while the airman in Charleston checked his records. The sparkle left her eyes instantly, and her voice turned flat when the faceless voice said, “Lieutenant Santos checked in a week ago today before going on leave. He’s not required to list his final destination, ma’am. He will be in the state of South Carolina, that’s all I can tell you. Does the admiral want to leave a message for Lieutenant Santos?”
In the same flat-sounding voice, Ruby said yes and left her office number.
Ruby gathered up her notes, folding them neatly before stuffing them into her purse.
All the way home on the bus Ruby told herself over and over, if it’s meant to be, it will be. Her gut told her it would not be, that Calvin would not forgive her and was still probably blaming her for the trouble her father caused him with his commanding officer. You could have written me a letter, Calvin, a note, something to tell me you didn’t hate me.
It wasn’t until she was in her room with the door closed that she realized she was making a fool of her herself. She had to make a decision now and stick to it. She wasn’t being fair to Andrew. She’d accepted his proposal and, he, she thought, had every right to believe she was making plans to go through with the wedding. And, she told herself, she didn’t believe for one minute that Charleston didn’t know where Calvin was, even though she’d backed down and accepted the airman’s explanation.
A sick feeling settled in the pit of Ruby’s stomach. The simple fact, and one she’d better come to terms with, was she was not going to hear from Calvin Santos. She’d hurt him too deeply, and because of who he was, he was not going to risk being hurt again. Damn you, Calvin, damn you to hell! Ruby cried silently. Why couldn’t you trust me? Why?
The days dragged on, one after the other, and somehow Ruby managed to get through them, all the while keeping her eye on the calendar. On the last day of Calvin’s leave Ruby deliberately called Holy Trinity Church and made arrangements to be married on December 10, at three o’clock in the afternoon. On the evening of the same day she called Andrew to ask if the time and place were agreeable. He said his three-day leave was confirmed. They talked a few minutes longer with Andrew promising to write that evening. Ruby smiled for the benefit of the girls in the living room. They were happy for her and possibly a little envious. She’d asked Rena to be her matron of honor, and she’d agreed.
Tomorrow Calvin would be back in the Philippines. Actually, with the time difference, it was already tomorrow at Clark Air Force Base. It was entirely possible that Calvin had her message in his hand even now, that moment. It seemed like months ago that she’d left the message for him. One good thing had come out of her deviousness. She’d gone to the library and taken a book out on the art of chess playing. Novice and as inexpert as he was, her boss had grabbed at the moves she’d written down for his benefit. He’d won his game with the Marine general and believed implicitly that Ruby’s call to the Philippines had saved his neck. He’d even given her a bouquet of roses for her desk in thanks.
Ruby lay awake all night, her thoughts chaotic. She thought about Barstow and her parents, about Opal, wondering how she was doing, about Amber and Nangi and the new baby who would make such a wonderful Christmas for them. That was what she wanted, a real family with a Christmas tree, a place where she was always welcome.
It was five in the morning when she crept down the hall to the bathroom to get ready for work. The stress she’d put herself through these past weeks was evident. She looked haggard and drawn with dark shadows under her eyes. She was indeed a pitiful sight for a prospective bride.
The day seemed endless, the minutes and seconds crawling by so slowly that Ruby’s skin itched from frustration. Each time the phone rang she drew a deep breath to compose herself before answering. Instead of going to lunch in the cafeteria, she asked one of the girls in the next office to bring her a sandwich, which she looked at but didn’t eat. She was too fearful of leaving the office in case Calvin called.
Ruby was still at her desk at six o’clock. She was rearranging the files at six-thirty. At seven o’clock she retyped a personal letter for the admiral that had eleven mistakes on the first page. She crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the wastebasket. At seven-thirty she covered her typewriter and blew imaginary dust off her desk. She ran a comb through her hair, put on fresh lipstick, and powdered her nose.
Calvin should have called. The twelve-hour difference made the time seven-fifty. Perhaps he remembered Admiral Query was her boss and knew the call was from her. But did he dare not respond to an admiral’s call? Calvin was so persnickety about things that could do damage to his career.
It was two minutes till eight when Ruby, her shoulders slumping, her steps dragging, closed the office behind her. A lump the size of a golf ball was lodged in her throat. Her eyes burned as she stepped into the elevator. If the door hadn’t closed with such a loud swoosh and clatter, she would have heard the phone on her desk ring. It rang eighteen times before it turned silent.
Ruby walked into the night, grateful for the darkness that cloaked her shame. What a fool she was.
The next day she sent a postcard to her parents, informing them of her upcoming marriage. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she dropped the card in the mailbox. “Please, Mom, be happy for me. Think about me sometime. If you can’t do that, stiffen your backbone and give Pop what-for.”
George Connors threw the mail on the kitchen table. His eyes dared his wife to pick it up. She didn’t. She kept on peeling the potatoes in front of her.
“Did you talk to the new neighbors, Irma?”
“No, George. I did hear them complaining about the grape stains on the back steps and on the kitchen linoleum. I was shaking the dust mop, that’s how I heard them. They said they were going to sand the steps and replace the linoleum.”
“Is it worn out?” George asked.
“I don’t know, George.”
“I’ll be going back to work next week. My disability has run out. They need me down at the monument works.”
“I’m sure they do, George. Mr. Riley said you were the best stonecutter he ever saw.”
George Connors’ eyes narrowed. “How do you know that, Irma?”
“You told me that, George.”
“Ruby Connors is getting married, Irma. To a marine. She sent a card.”
“Do you approve, George?”
“Don’t approve or disapprove. I don’t have a daughter named Ruby anymore. Opal is getting sassy, Irma.”
“I’ll talk to her, George.”
“There’s a letter on the table addressed to you from Grace Zachary, Irma.”
The paring knife slipped and Irma gouged her thumb. “Did you read it, George?”
“No, I thought you should read it to me. Maybe we should just tear it up and not bother to read it. Why would she be writing to you?”
Irma watched a trickle of blood form on a potato. She picked up the paring knife and held it firmly in her hand. She raised her head. “Maybe she can’t hold in her secret anymore. Maybe she wants to tell me how you raped her and she’s the one who doused you with the grape jelly. Did you know Amber had a baby, George?”
“You get yourself upstairs and wash out your mouth with soap, Irma. Now.”
“I don’t feel like it. Don’t raise your hand to me. If you do, I’ll kill you when you’re asleep. Do you want carrots or peas?”
“Both,” George said, moving closer to the table. “What did you say?”
“I said I would kill y
ou if you raised your hand to me again. I will, too. Your brothers will be on my side. So will this whole town if I tell them what you’ve done to all of us. You’re a devil, George.”
George’s hand snaked out to grasp his wife’s arm, but Irma was too quick for him. The paring knife was clutched in her hand, the blade pointing straight at George. With the kitchen chair in front of her she brandished the knife like a sword. “I mean it, George. Now, I want you to go and change your underwear. You smell like pissy-pants. Your tube must be clogged again. I’m going to read my mail. I wish Grace had killed you. I prayed all night that you would die. I promised myself I would kill you. Sometime. I don’t know when. Maybe next week. Maybe tomorrow. I think you should move into Ruby’s room. Yes, you should move into Ruby’s room . . . Georgie. Go on, Georgie, don’t stand there, looking at me like that. You brought shame on this house. Shame on you, Georgie,” Irma said, wagging her finger in his direction. “Shame, shame, shame.”
Even though the humidity was near the eighty-percent mark, Clark Air Force Base hummed with activity. Calvin Santos bristled with something akin to electricity. In his hand were two messages. When he first saw them and realized their implication, the blood rushed to his head. He remembered the major, but that’s all he remembered. Now he was remembering how he’d done his best to call her once before, only Ruby wasn’t in the office and the admiral had taken the call. He shouted his message as loud as he could, but the admiral, who Ruby had once said was hard of hearing, didn’t seem to be getting it. He’d called a second and third time and didn’t fare any better. He’d written two letters and sent them to the house on Kilbourne Place, but they’d come back to him with a stamp on both of them saying the addressee had moved. He’d sent one letter to the Navy Annex, but it had also been returned. He assumed Ruby no longer worked for the government. A month to the day of his arrival at Beale he’d been transferred to Germany. He’d made one last desperate try and sent a letter to Ruby’s home in Barstow, hoping against hope that her parents would forward it. His thinking was, if Ruby moved, she’d moved up to a better job. There was always the goddamn time difference no matter where he was. What he didn’t understand then and still didn’t understand and would probably never come to terms with was why Ruby hadn’t left a forwarding address. By sheer luck he’d remembered the name of the town where Nola grew up and sent a letter to her for Ruby’s address. That letter and the one he’d sent to Barstow had not been returned to him.
Seasons of Her Life Page 18
