Children of the Promise

by Dean Hughes

  “LaRue!” Mom said.

  But Gene laughed. “I think you’d better let me handle that part,” he said.

  After dinner, Dad sat by the radio with the news on and with his newspaper in front of him, and Gene volunteered to help Mom with the dishes—since the girls had cooked the meal. LaRue thought that was wonderful, but she accused Gene again of trying to be too nice.

  Actually Gene wanted to talk to his mother, although he didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted to say to her. As he cleared the dishes from the dining room table, he heard bits and pieces of the war news. The Germans were on a new push in Russia, trying to recover from their devastating losses the winter before, but they were no longer having their way as they had in the beginning of the eastern campaign. In Germany, the American and British bombers were blasting Dusseldorf, Cologne, and some of the cities on the North Sea. Every day the bombing continued, and Gene wondered how the Germans could hold out against the constant barrage.

  In North Africa and in the Mediterranean Sea, the fighting continued as well, and a fierce battle was going on in the Solomons: islands Gene had never heard of until recently. Gene studied maps in the newspapers and tracked the battles all over the world. Lately, he had wondered which of the fronts he would join, but he supposed, by the time his training was finished, the fighting would shift to new islands, maybe even to the Philippines. What he didn’t fear any longer, as he had the year before, was that the war would end before he could get to it.

  “Mom,” Gene said, as he stood next to her and dried the dishes she washed, “I thought I might walk over to Millie’s in a little bit.”

  “Haven’t you told her yet?”

  “Yeah, I did. I stopped over there this morning.”

  “It sounds to me like you two are getting pretty thick. You’re seeing her a lot more than you used to.”

  “Well . . . I’ll be gone pretty soon.”

  “How are you going to handle it if she finds someone else while you’re gone?”

  Gene was wiping off a dinner plate. He stepped to his right, reached up, and placed the plate in one of the kitchen cabinets. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess whatever works out will be best.”

  “For two years now you’ve been telling me you two are just friends.”

  “We are. Mostly.”

  “Oh, Gene.” Mom swished her washcloth through a drinking glass and then set it in some hot rinse water in a dishpan. “You don’t say much, but you’re not very hard to read. I think you like that girl a whole lot more than you let on.”

  “I do like her. I’ve never said I didn’t.”

  “What about that other little word—the one that also starts with an ‘l’?”

  Gene didn’t answer. He was drying utensils now, rolling several of them around in his dish towel at the same time. Finally, he said, “Mom, I don’t think it’s good to make a lot of promises right now. It’s better to wait and see how everything turns out.”

  Mom turned and looked at Gene, studied his eyes. Then she took Gene into her arms. He was much taller than she, and he still had a fistful of utensils in his hand, but she pulled him close anyway. “Oh, Gene, don’t you think it’s time to go ahead and let yourself feel whatever you feel? Millie is nuts over you. I see it in her eyes every time you two are together.”

  Gene let his mom hold him for a time, but he was having some difficulty, and he realized he didn’t want to talk to his mom after all. He finally pulled back a little and she let go. But he did say, “I hope she does wait. I hope we get another chance—you know, when we’re older.”

  “Oh, Gene, you ought to be starting college this year—having fun up at the U. You ought to be doing all the things I did at your age. This war just ruins everything.”

  “I wish I could play football,” he admitted.

  “I know. You’d be a star. You’d have your pick of girls, too—if that’s what you wanted.”

  Gene didn’t know about that. And the truth was, he didn’t want his pick. He would just like to keep dating Millie. And play football and basketball both, maybe even run on the track team. He had broken Alex’s city record in the 440 that spring, and the track coach—along with every University of Utah coach—had talked to him about accepting a scholarship. “I guess you’ll be going into the service,” they would say. “Well, when you get back, we’d love to have you play for us.” But how could anyone think that far ahead? Life was on hold now. Everything was “for the duration,” which only seemed another way of saying “forever.” He didn’t know how to think about life after he got home.

  When the dishes were finished, Gene walked up to his room and sat on his bed. He had thought to tell his mother about the uneasiness that had been on his mind all day. He simply wanted to admit to someone—someone who would understand—what he was feeling. But Mom was not the one; he should have known that. She would only worry all the more.

  That night, after Gene had left, Lorraine Gardner stopped by the Thomases’. Dad had gone back to the plant, but Sister Thomas was home, and she answered the door. “Oh, Lorraine,” she said, “Come in.”

  “I have some very good news,” Lorraine said.

  Sister Thomas’s immediate thought was that Lorraine had gotten engaged. She told herself to be happy for the girl, but that wasn’t what she felt.

  “Is President Thomas home?” Lorraine asked.

  “No. The girls and I are the only ones here.”

  “Would you call them down, Sister Thomas? They’ll want to hear this too.”

  Lorraine was holding a postcard in her hand—gripping it with both hands in front of her, and she seemed excited. Sister Thomas called to the girls, and in a few seconds they appeared at the top of the stairs, saw Lorraine, and then hurried down. Everyone then walked into the living room and found seats, Lorraine next to Sister Thomas on the couch. “You remember Chuck Adair, don’t you?” Lorraine said.

  “Yes. Someone told me he’s also a prisoner in the Philippines.”

  Lorraine nodded, and she was beaming. “His family lives over by me. When I got home from work tonight, Sister Adair was at my house, and she had this card. It’s from Chuck.”

  “Oh, my goodness, how wonderful. Does it say he’s all right?”

  “Yes. There are boxes to check off. ‘I am well’—that sort of thing. But there’s space for a short message. And look what he wrote. She handed the card to Sister Thomas.”

  At the bottom of the card, Chuck had written: “Wally Thomas is here with me. He’s all right. Tell his parents.”

  Sister Thomas tried to read it out loud, but she couldn’t get all the words out. LaRue and Beverly got the idea, however, and they rushed to see the card themselves. Then everyone cried together, including Lorraine.

  “I always knew it. I always knew it,” Sister Thomas kept saying. “But it’s good to hear it from someone.”

  “Sister Adair would have brought it over to you herself,” Lorraine said, “but she thought I’d like to give you the news.”

  “When will he come home?” Beverly had asked three times by now.

  “Honey, we don’t know,” Sister Thomas said. “This just means that he’s alive and he’s okay.”

  “Why won’t they let Wally send his own card?”

  “I have no idea, Bev.” Sister Thomas looked at Lorraine. “I’ve written to him once a week this whole last year. Most of the letters come back. But some don’t, and I don’t know whether that means they’re getting through or not.”

  “I wish we could get a letter from him,” Lorraine said.

  Sister Thomas looked into Lorraine’s eyes. “I know. But here’s how I feel about it: At least we know he’s sticking this thing out. I think he’s going to come home a stronger man than we ever knew before.”

  Lorraine’s eyes filled with tears again. “I’ve seen pictures of men who escaped the Japs on some of the islands. They looked like skeletons.”

  “I know. And Wally may look like that too. But he’s no
t giving up. And that means he wants, more than anything, to get back to us.”

  “Sister Thomas, I never wrote to him after he left. Not until he was in prison. And every letter I’ve sent has come back. I doubt he thinks about me at all anymore.”

  “Oh, Lorraine, you know Wally better than that.” Sister Thomas took Lorraine’s hands into her own. “I’m sure it’s thinking about you—as much as anything—that keeps him alive.”

  “He probably thinks I’m married. I gave him no reason to think I would wait for him.”

  “He might think that. But that doesn’t change what he feels for you. I know Wally. It’s remembering life at home, going dancing with you, going to shows—all those memories you two stored up together—that’s what he feeds on now.”

  “What if they’re breaking him down? He was always so fun. Maybe they’ll take all that away from him.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. Wally is Wally. He may be a little more serious when he gets back—and that won’t hurt anything—but he’ll still be Wally.” Sister Thomas pulled out a hanky from her skirt pocket and dabbed away the tears on Lorraine’s cheeks and then the ones on her own. “Are you hoping to see him again, date him, when he gets back?”

  “I don’t know, Sister Thomas. I sent him packing. He’s probably never forgotten that. I doubt anything would come of it. But he was my good friend for such a long time. I just hope he’ll be all right.”

  “Could I keep this card long enough to show it to Al? I’d run down to the plant, but I don’t have a car at home.”

  “Let’s go together. Dad told me I could use the gas in the car tonight and he’d take the bus to work this week.”

  “Oh, good. Let’s all go. Al is going to be so pleased.”

  “Can we call Bobbi and Alex on the telephone?” Bev wanted to know.

  “Oh, no, dear. But we’ll write tonight and send the letters first thing in the morning. Everyone is going to be so cheered by this.”

  “Let’s go to Millie’s first—and tell Gene,” LaRue said. “He’ll be the happiest of all.”

  “Oh, yes. That’s right,” Sister Thomas said. “We need to tell Gene right now. He needs this tonight. He signed up with the marines this morning. He wouldn’t admit a thing to me, but I know he’s nervous about leaving home.”

  Chapter 16

  Bobbi and Afton were working the same shift at the hospital. That didn’t mean they saw much of each other, but on a nice day in July they did manage to take a break at the same time. They walked outside and sat in chairs that looked out toward the harbor. Big gray battleships were docked there, but Bobbi chose not to look at them. She liked the color of the water, and closer, the red ginger plants and bougainvillea, the palm trees.

  “So have you seen your doctor today?” Bobbi asked.

  “My doctor. I’m sure I don’t have my own private physician. Whatever could you mean?”

  “Well, there’s certainly one who gives you a thorough examination every time you walk by.”

  “Bobbi!”

  “He looks. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Afton was blushing, but she was also laughing. “Goll, Bobbi, don’t you think he’s luscious? He’s like guava or fresh pineapple.”

  “Passion fruit, I do believe.”

  “You’re terrible, Bobbi. It’s not like that. He’s a perfect gentleman with me.”

  “So far.”

  Afton turned in her seat and looked directly into Bobbi’s eyes. “Why do you say that? He respects me. He knows what my standards are.”

  “I just know what the other nurses say. He’s got quite a reputation.”

  Afton folded her arms and turned straight in her chair. “They’re jealous. He’s the best-looking single guy around this place, and every nurse wants to get her hands on him.”

  “And vice versa.”

  “Bobbi, would you stop that!”

  “Okay. But I do think you need to be careful. Dr. Brown Eyes has dated half the nurses in this hospital. I don’t think all the things they say could be made up. Dolores said he was completely proper at first, and then he turned into an octopus—all tentacles.”

  The doctor’s name was actually Julian Brown, but he did have deep brown eyes with long eyelashes, and the nurses, behind his back, had all begun to call him Dr. Brown Eyes. He was a young surgeon who had only recently completed his residency. He had an innocent look about him, but a number of nurses had told Bobbi that he rarely dated anyone for very long, and he made the most of any opportunities nurses provided for him.

  “Bobbi, can I talk to you seriously about him for a minute? I mean, really?”

  “Sure. But let me ask you one thing first.”

  “What?”

  “What about Lowell, who used to make your knees weak, back in Arizona? I thought you were going to die if you didn’t end up with him.”

  “Bobbi, he was just a boy. He’s a private in the army somewhere.”

  “I get your point. It is hard to marry beneath your rank.”

  “Come on, Bobbi. Be serious for a minute. Let me tell you what I’m thinking about all this.”

  “Go right ahead.”

  “Okay.” She gripped her hands together and looked at her lap. “Every girl around here is after him, and some of them really throw themselves at him. They all want to marry a doctor, and especially one who’s so good looking.”

  “No doubt.”

  “Well, I think he hasn’t always been as good as he should be, but I also think he would be—if he fell in love with someone he respected.”

  “Afton, think what you’re saying. Is he going to join the Church? Is he going to take you to the temple?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I need to find out. You dated a nonmember—very seriously.”

  “Yes. And it didn’t work out at all.” But Bobbi was amazed at what she was saying. Was her father’s voice coming out of her mouth? “David was interested in the Church,” she added. “He thought very seriously about joining.”

  “Well . . . that’s what I hope Julian will do. He’s so dreamy I can hardly stand it. Golly, if you ask me, he’s an angel; he just doesn’t know it yet.”

  “That’s why he’s acting like a little devil.”

  “Bobbi!” Afton gave Bobbi’s shoulder a slap. “You know how these nurses are. A lot of ‘em have no morals at all. Marsha—the girl I work with in post-op—told me she stayed a couple of nights in a hotel with an officer last month. Before he shipped out, they just took off together on a two-day pass.”

  “Now let me see whether I understand this.” Bobbi twisted so she could look at Afton straight on. “You’re telling me that the good doctor is pure as the driven snow, but he can’t control himself with all these evil nurses tempting him all the time.”

  “I’m not saying that. But men are kind of like that. A woman can get them excited, and then they can’t help themselves. He could reform and stop being like that.”

  “Oh, brother.”

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “It’s an excuse men use, Afton. A lot of them go around seducing all the women they can. And they use big, innocent-looking eyes—brown, in some cases—as their favorite weapon.”

  “Bobbi, that’s a nasty thing to say. You snapped up the only Mormon guy we ever met, and now you’re being mean about the one guy I’ve found.”

  “Snapped up? Oh, certainly. I see Richard about twice a month—at church. He’s never even called me.”

  “Maybe so. But I see the way he looks at you.”

  “How does he look at me?”

  “Like he’s so . . . interested . . . in every word you have to say.”

  “Oh, wow! Isn’t that romantic?”

  “Well, it is. You’re fascinating to him, Bobbi. I’d give anything to meet a guy who cared that much about what I have to say.”

  “Afton, I want something more than talk.”

  Afton began to laugh. “Well, at least you admit it. Now who’s sounding
dangerous?”

  “Me, I guess. But Richard is no threat. He’s never even touched my hand—except to shake it.”

  Afton giggled. “Gee, mine’s a devil and yours is a saint.”

  Bobbi laughed too, but then she said, “I don’t know what Richard is. He likes to think, and to talk about ideas, but as soon as I try to find out what he—himself—is all about, he shuts up like a clam. I’d give anything just to feel some closeness to him.”

  “Bobbi, you’ve fallen for him.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Bobbi leaned back and stared at the horizon, where the sky and the water seemed to blend. “He’s nice looking, and he’s a good person. He’s even funny sometimes, and interesting—but I don’t understand him. He lets me get a peek inside once in a while, and then he closes the window and pulls down the shade.”

  Afton laughed. “But you do want to have a good look—right?”

  “Of course I do. But he’s the one who holds back.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Do? What can I do? He’ll be shipping out one of these days, and he’s certainly not saying anything about the future—not even that he wants to see me again.”

  “He will, Bobbi. I’m sure he will.”

  But Bobbi didn’t think so. She stood up. “Come on. We’d better get back to work,” she said.

  Afton didn’t stand up, however. “Bobbi,” she said, “what about David Stinson? Do you still think about him?”

  “I think about David every day. And his letters make me cry. He’s the one man I’ve known who understands me. But there’s nothing I can do. There’s no way I can marry him.” Bobbi tucked her hands into the pockets of her white skirt, and she turned toward the harbor. “Maybe I just want Richard to be the right one. I’m probably giving him qualities he doesn’t even have.”

  “Am I doing the same thing with Julian?”

  “I hate to say it, Afton, but I think you are.”

  They didn’t look at each other. Bobbi was afraid she had hurt Afton. But after a time, Afton said, “Probably so. But it’s so hard. I want someone.”

  “I thought we were going to enjoy our freedom over here,” Bobbi said.