Missing in Action

by Dean Hughes

  “Honey, we all have weaknesses. We all make mistakes. I’m trying not to remember so many of them. I want to remember the best things.”

  “He was nice to me. He taught me to play ball and everything.”

  Her head turned slowly toward him, and she gave him a long look—like she didn’t believe that. She did that too much, always talking about the bad things Dad had done, even if she was talking different tonight.

  “I think we have to learn from the things that happen to us, honey. And then do better. I want you to remember the good things about your dad, but I want you to be stronger. I want you to be more like Grandpa. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I guess so.” He watched the curtains blowing out, filling with air, then drifting back to the window again. It was good to feel some air moving in his room.

  “You know how the people are at church. How they live, and how they talk and everything. Don’t you want to be more like that?”

  “Dad won medals in the war,” he said. “Grandpa never did that.”

  “What medals?”

  “You told me he got some medals. Because he was brave in the war.”

  “No, honey. It wasn’t that. They were just what they call service medals—for participating in certain campaigns and things like that.”

  “You told me he was brave.”

  “Well, I think he was brave. But the medals weren’t for that.”

  He tried to remember. He was sure that was what Mom had said. Now she was changing everything.

  “I want you to be proud of your dad, Jay. He was willing to go and serve. We have to be proud of all our servicemen who are fighting for us.”

  “But he’s brave. Not all those guys get medals.”

  She reached out a hand toward him. “Come here a sec.” He didn’t know what she wanted, but he crawled to her and she put her arm around him. “I just wish we knew for sure what’s happened to him,” she said.

  He didn’t like it when she said that. “He’s all right, Mom. He can take whatever the Japs dish out. He’ll come home to us.”

  “Maybe, honey. But I think we have to be ready for whatever comes. Do you know what I mean?”

  He pulled back from her. “Grandpa said we have to have faith. I pray every night for him. You have to do that, Mom. You have to have faith too.”

  “Sure, honey. But people die in war. That’s just the way it is. Every family prays, but Heavenly Father can’t bring all the boys home.”

  “Maybe some families have more faith. You have to pray every day. Grandpa said so.”

  “I do pray, Jay.” She took hold of his arms, just above the elbows. “But part of faith is trusting God, honey. We have to accept whatever happens. I know you have bad memories from the way your dad treated you sometimes, and from some of the things he—”

  “Don’t talk about him that way.”

  “Jay, you know what we went through.”

  “He was nice to me. Lots of times.”

  “All right, honey. It’s good you feel that way. You know that I love him too.”

  But she didn’t really love Dad as much as she should. She shouldn’t say those things about him drinking beer and losing his jobs. He was brave, and he was a star football player. He was a good father. “You need to keep praying,” was all Jay could think to say.

  “I do, honey. I do.” But now she had started to cry. He didn’t want that, didn’t want her to go back to her sadness and her grouchiness, but she needed to know that he wasn’t going to let her talk that way about his dad.

  CHAPTER 7

  THE FOURTH OF JULY CAME on a Sunday, so the celebration in Delta was put off until Monday. Gordy came by for Jay that morning, and they walked into town. There was going to be a parade at nine o’clock that would come down Main Street. He had seen the Covered Wagon Days parade in Salt Lake; it had lasted for hours. He couldn’t imagine that such a little town could come up with much, but at least some of the boys had a few firecrackers, hard as they were to get these days. Gordy said he was going to set some off and try to scare some of the girls they knew.

  When he and Gordy reached Main Street, it was just after eight thirty, and not many people had come into town yet. “Let’s walk down the street and see if we can spot Lew or any of the other guys,” Gordy said.

  “I know who you’re really looking for,” Jay said.

  “Who?”

  “Elaine Gleed.”

  Gordy turned and punched him in the shoulder. But then he surprised Jay by saying, “How did you know?”

  “ ’Cause you love her.”

  “You can’t blame me for that,” he said. “The girl’s a looker.” He grinned with those giant front teeth of his, looking sort of goofy, but pleased with himself. “Have you seen how her and her friends have been coming around every night lately? I figure she’s there to get a look at me.”

  Jay laughed. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “Why not? I’m the best player. Even a girl can tell that.”

  “Those girls are just looking around for something to do.”

  “Yeah. And maybe every one of ’em’s got it bad for me. It wouldn’t surprise me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m awful good-looking.” He stopped and struck a pose, showing his profile.

  “You’re right about one thing. I haven’t noticed.” This was something new. Jay usually didn’t joke much.

  “You better watch it, Chief. You mess with me and I’ll scalp you.” He jumped and got him in a headlock, grabbed some of his hair, and pretended that he was hacking away at it. But Jay’s temper fired; he swung him around and threw him off.

  “Hey, Chief, what’s up? You wanna fight a couple of rounds? ’Cause if you do, I’m ready for you.” Gordy seemed about half-mad.

  Jay wasn’t going to let that happen. “You’d have a better chance fighting Elaine,” he said, and tried to smile. “Try her first.”

  Gordy took a long look at him, like he wasn’t sure whether he was mad or not, and then he started into that sandpaper laugh of his. “If she wants to go a few rounds with me, rasslin’—best two out of three—I guess I’d lock up with her. I might kiss her on the lips while I was at it too.”

  “She’d slap your face again.”

  “Yeah, she might. But then again, maybe that’s just what she’s hoping for—a little rasslin’. We’re not kids, like the last time I kissed her.”

  Jay wondered. He had watched Elaine and Jolene Wickham and a couple of other girls. They’d actually paid no attention to the baseball game. They mostly seemed interested in talking to each other. They giggled all the time, the way girls always did, and he thought maybe sometimes they did talk about the boys. He had a feeling they made fun of Gordy.

  Jay wondered what girls thought about him. Maybe they all thought he was an Indian, because of the stuff that Gordy always said.

  The parade finally started, but it was a poor excuse for a parade. The mayor came by, he and his wife riding in the rumble seat of an old-fashioned Ford. The mayor was wearing a cowboy hat and using it to wave at people. And then a fire engine came along with a bunch of kids riding on it. He didn’t know why that was in a parade. But most of the rest of the stuff was no better. They did have a couple of floats made on the back of hayracks, pulled by tractors. One had a tall guy on it, dressed up like Uncle Sam. Someone had painted signs and put them all over the sides of the hayrack, saying that people should buy war bonds.

  The high school band marched down the street, and they played some pretty good music, nice and loud. That was about the best thing, except for a float with some high school girls on it—the Dairy Princesses. The truth was, two of them weren’t much to look at—Gordy called them the “Dairy Cows.” But the main one, the winner, was pretty. Gordy said she was Elaine’s big sister, and Elaine was going to look just as good someday. “I’ll take old Elaine to a dance sometime, and she’ll wear a dress like that one her sister’s got on—all low in the front—and I’ll take a look right down her n
eck while I’m dancing with her.”

  “You better not let your mother hear you say something like that.” Jay had been around Gordy’s mother a couple of times now, and he’d heard her telling Gordy not to do this and not to do that.

  “You’re right about that, Chief. When me and Lew was in fourth grade, we tried to hide under the stairs, over at D. Stevens department store, and look up girls’ dresses. We got caught doing it, and Mr. Stephens called my mom. I thought she was going to bust a gasket. But the only thing we seen was a big old lady wearing a girdle with all those straps to hold up her stockings. It made us both want to puke.” And then he had to bend over and pretend he was puking.

  Jay didn’t need to see that, but he laughed anyway.

  After the parade, he and Gordy found Lew and Eldred and some of the other boys at the baseball park—the nice one where the town team played on Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons. Some of the boys from the Delta High School team had gotten up a game with a team from out at Topaz. Jay was curious to see how well the Japanese boys could play, but as soon as he sat down in the bleachers, he noticed that Ken was out on the field, warming up at the shortstop position. That worried him a little.

  Their coach was hitting ground balls to the infielders, and they were making some nice plays.

  “These guys are good,” Eldred said. He was sitting next to Jay, with Gordy on the other side, and Lew down on the end. Some other guys they knew were sitting in front of them.

  Buddy turned around and said, “They claim they’re in high school, but Japs all look younger than they really are. They’re probably older guys.”

  Jay didn’t say anything about Ken. He knew he was out of high school, but just barely, and he was still seventeen.

  “They’ll do anything to beat us,” said Lew. “Then they act like little banty roosters strutting around. All our guys that age are in the army. We could put a lot better team out there if it wasn’t for that.”

  “Some Japs from out at the camp are in the army too,” Jay said.

  Buddy twisted more this time, to see who was talking. “What are you talking about? What army?”

  “Our army.”

  “That’s a big lie. My dad told me all about that. Some of ’em get into the army, but they don’t fight. They just sit around at camps and don’t do anything.”

  Jay didn’t say anything at first, but he was sort of mad, so he told Buddy, “They’re going to get into the fight pretty soon. They want some action, and President Roosevelt says he’s going to give ’em a chance.”

  “What are you talking about, Thacker? Who told you that? That’s nothing but a big lie.”

  He decided he’d better not say anything else. But Gordy got everyone laughing by saying, “Sounds like Chief wants to join up with those Japs. Maybe he can teach ’em how to fight with tomahawks.”

  Buddy turned around again, grinning this time. “Is that what you’ve got in mind, Chief?”

  “My name’s Jay.”

  “Ooh. I better watch out. Chief sounds like he’s about to go on the war path.”

  The boys all laughed again.

  “Lay off, you guys,” Gordy said. “Someday me and him are going to be major league ballplayers, and you’re all going to brag you ever knew us.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Buddy. “And I’m going to sing like Bing Crosby and make a million bucks.”

  “Say what you want. We’re going to do it.”

  Jay wasn’t quite so sure as Gordy, but he liked hearing him say it.

  The Delta team didn’t get much going their first time at bat. The leadoff batter punched a single into right field and the crowd—especially the boys with him and Gordy—made a lot of noise. “Here we go. We’re going to make these Japs look sick,” Lew said. But the next batter knocked a ground ball to Ken, who made a great pickup, turned, and threw to second. The second baseman made a good pivot and threw out the runner at first. Double play.

  All the noise in the bleachers stopped.

  The next batter, Eldred’s big brother, was supposed to be a great hitter, and he hit a hard grounder to the left side, but Ken broke to his right, fielded the ball backhand, and then made a strong throw to first.

  “Man, who is that guy? He’s good,” said Gordy.

  “Yeah, he’s probably about thirty,” Buddy said.

  Jay kept his mouth shut, but as the team ran off the field, straight toward the boys in the grandstand, Ken looked up at the bleachers and waved. “Hey, Jay,” he said, “what did you think of that?”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Ken stepped up to the fence. “Are these the guys you play with?”

  He nodded again.

  “How would you guys like to play against the team I coach?” he asked. “They’re guys about your age.”

  No one spoke for a time, and then Gordy said, “Probably twice our age, if you tell the truth.”

  “No,” Ken said, “they all have to be under fourteen for the league they play in at the camp. But we like to play someone else once in a while. Are you guys willing to take us on?” Ken was smiling, sounding friendly.

  “How come you know Chief?” asked Gordy.

  “Who?”

  “Jay.”

  Ken took his hat off and rubbed his sleeve across his forehead. The heat was coming on now, feeling like a fire on Jay’s back. “We work together on his grandpa’s farm,” Ken said.

  “Oh, yeah. He told me about that.”

  “So, do you want to have a game?” Ken was looking sly, like he figured he had a better team than they did.

  “I guess we could probably do that,” Gordy said. “We’ll have to talk it over.”

  “All right. I’ll talk to Jay. We can figure something out. Maybe you could come out to the camp. We’ve got a pretty good field out there.” Then he looked straight at Jay. “Your grandpa wants me back tomorrow. We can talk about it then.”

  “Okay,” he said, but softly. He knew what was coming.

  Ken sat down on his team’s bench. Gordy whispered, “That’s the guy you work with?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How come he sounds like an American?”

  He wouldn’t look at Gordy. He just kept looking out at the field. “He is an American,” he said.

  Buddy was twisting around again. “Now I know who’s filling Chief with all that stuff about Japs joining the army.”

  “You never said he was a ballplayer,” Gordy said.

  Jay shrugged.

  “Do you think they have a good team out there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “That guy’s a liar,” Buddy said, keeping his voice down. “If we go out there, they’ll throw a bunch of high school guys at us. How old is that shortstop, Chief? Twenty-five?”

  “No. He’s seventeen.”

  “That’s what he told you, anyways,” said Buddy.

  “Ken’s seventeen. He just finished high school a few weeks ago.”

  “Sounds like you and him are big pals,” Buddy said.

  Renny laughed, and then, without turning around, he said, “A Jap and an Indian working together. They probably sleep in the shade all day and then complain they don’t get paid enough. I don’t think Brother Reid’s getting his money’s worth.”

  “Shut up, okay? We work hard,” Jay said.

  Everyone got quiet. But he knew he’d done the wrong thing. Renny had said it like he was only joking, and now the guys probably thought he was being a hothead.

  The crowd didn’t yell much for their own team after that, but that was because the local boys couldn’t do much against the Topaz team. By the bottom of the third inning Gordy said, “Come on, let’s go. This ain’t no fun.” The Japanese team was ahead nine to one by then and they had the bases loaded with no outs. As Jay walked away with his friends, he heard the click of a bat and knew some more runs had probably scored.

  “Those guys are so little, you can’t pitch to ’em,” Gordy said. “Dan had to keep takin
g something off his pitches just to make sure he got the ball in their strike zones.”

  But it wasn’t like that. Jay had watched Ken hit a couple of line drives, one for a triple, and both times the pitch had been up in his eyes. And he had run the bases faster than anyone on the Delta team.

  Gordy told everyone they ought to walk over to the park, so they did. It was set up for a town picnic, and a lot of families had laid out blankets or were sitting at the picnic tables. Later in the day there were supposed to be three-legged races and stuff like that. “If they have footraces, I’m going to win me some money again this year,” Gordy said. “Last year I took first place and won myself half a dollar.”

  “That’s because I slipped on my start,” said Eldred. “But I’ll beat you this year. And Jay will too. He’s fast.”

  He did think maybe he could beat Gordy. He had started stretching singles into doubles lately.

  “Don’t give me that, Four-Eyes,” Gordy said to Eldred. “I can beat you any day of the week, running backward with my feet tied together. And if Chief tries to beat me, I’ll tomahawk him from behind.”

  Eldred glanced at Jay, as if to say, Don’t let him bother you, but he didn’t worry about it. Gordy didn’t ever mean anything he said. It was guys like Buddy and Renny who bothered him.

  The boys were looking around—maybe looking for the girls their age, although no one said it—when Brother Roundy came walking up to them. He was their leader in the church MIA—the Mutual Improvement Association. “Hey boys, are you all coming to Mutual Thursday night?” he asked.

  Mitchell Roundy was a married man, in his thirties, but he was a pretty good guy. At Mutual the younger boys mostly did Boy Scouts. They hadn’t gone on a campout yet, but Brother Roundy was planning one for later on in July. Jay was looking forward to it.

  “We’ll be there,” Gordy said for everyone.

  “Well, good. I was thinking, you might’ve heard what’s happening this week—and maybe not liked the idea—but I want you to come anyway.”

  “They want to teach us to dance,” Lew said. “I told my dad we’re not interested.”

  “There ain’t no teaching me to dance,” said Gordy. “People have tried. Of course, if you could team me up with Elaine Gleed, I’d wrap up tight with her and do my level best to improve.”