by Dean Hughes
“It’s all right to think about him. We should think about him.”
But now tears were in Beverly’s eyes. “Not when it always makes me cry.”
“Don’t, okay? Let’s go down and see if the paper has come. I want to look at the Christmas ads.” Then she laughed. “Here’s what you do, Bev. Wait until I talk Dad into a new dress and then look pouty and say, ‘LaRue always gets everything she wants.’ Dad’ll buy you a new dress too. If you can make him feel guilty, you can get him every time.”
“I don’t need a new dress. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh, Bev. I’ve got a lot to teach you. There’s no such thing as ‘I don’t need a new dress.’ That’s the greatest truth a girl can learn.”
Beverly giggled, but LaRue had her doubts about her little sister. She never would learn how to get what she wanted, no matter how hard LaRue tried to teach her.
On Friday afternoon LaRue and Beverly took the streetcar to town. They spent a few minutes in J. C. Penney’s, just so LaRue could say she had looked there, and then she shopped at ZCMI and Auerbach’s. She tried on almost everything and finally put a dress on layaway at each store. The one at Auerbach’s was a fancy party dress, and way too expensive–$24.99–but she figured that would make the one at ZCMI for twenty not seem so bad. It was white, with a long skirt, but sleeveless and rather low cut. She knew her dad would throw a fit if he saw it that way, but it came with a black crepe bolero jacket, with long organdy sleeves. It was like a dress LaRue had seen Greer Garson wear in a movie. Mom could come with her on Saturday and make the purchase, and then she could be the one to explain to her father that dresses didn’t come cheap these days.
Everything was falling into place for LaRue. She had made up her mind to take the final step. She would break up with Ned that night and possibly even tell the manager of the USO that she couldn’t volunteer any longer. It was what she knew she had to do, even wanted to do now, but she also knew how pleased Dad would be when she told him–before she mentioned the price of the dress.
The truth was, giving up Ned was not that difficult. He was good-looking–though not so cute as Reed–but he was not very fun to be around anymore. He was way too serious, and lately he kept talking about the war and about all the boys who were going to be killed before Japan could be taken. He kept saying that he would be transferred before too much longer, and he wondered whether he would ever make it back. It seemed like every guy these days liked to say those kinds of things. It was their way to get some pity from the girls back home–maybe even get some “cooperation” from them. She didn’t like it.
She arrived at the canteen that night before Ned did. When he did show up, he seemed serious again, not at all the way he had been when she had first met him. During their first dance, he told her, “LaRue, I need to talk to you about something tonight.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “I got word this week. I’m leaving.”
“When?”
“Next week, on Thursday. I don’t know why they have to move me right before Christmas.”
“Where are you going?”
“They didn’t tell me. But it will be somewhere in the Pacific–probably at an air base on some island.”
“That shouldn’t be too dangerous, should it?”
“It depends. When the Japs attack an island, the first thing they bomb is always the airfield.”
That was probably true, but LaRue could tell he wanted her to think he was about to die, when he was probably headed for some out-of-the-way base, far from the action.
“You don’t look all that broken up,” Ned said.
LaRue didn’t answer. She didn’t want to be manipulated that way. What did he want her to say?
Ned was sullen after that, which only annoyed LaRue. But she was relieved to know she could break up with him now without having to say anything. She could let him ship out, write him a letter or two, and then stop. That would be the end of it. She could still tell her father that things were over, and if she told him she had decided to stop going to the USO, he would be thrilled. The best thing was, Reed had been talking to her at school every day, all week; and around East High, the two of them were already an “item.” Two different girls had told her that Reed was telling his friends that he “had it bad” for LaRue Thomas. He was emerging as the star of the basketball team, just the way he had been on the football team, and in a basketball uniform, he was much more visible. There were girls at the school–juniors and seniors–who were so jealous of LaRue they could hardly stand it. Or at least, that was the other rumor LaRue was hearing.
LaRue spent a good deal of the evening at the sandwich bar–longer than she probably had to–but she wanted to avoid the scene that Ned was obviously pushing her toward. Gaye was working at the counter too, and at one point she told LaRue, “Everywhere you go, you’ve got the cutest boys after you.”
But LaRue took the chance to make sure the right word got back to East High. “I don’t care about these boys at the USO. Reed Porter is the kind of boy I want to go with. I’m thinking about quitting down here.”
“Really?” Gaye said. “It’s about the funnest thing I do.”
“It used to be for me, too. But I’m losing interest.”
Gaye was not exactly unattractive, but she was a big-boned girl, built too much like a man. The servicemen flirted with her, but the boys at the high school hardly noticed her. LaRue could see why she would want to keep coming. But the important thing was, she did talk, and she would certainly tell her friends what LaRue had said.
As the evening wore on, Ned seemed increasingly tense, and finally he said, “LaRue, let’s get out of here. I need to talk to you.”
“I can’t leave. I promised to stay until Patsy gets here. She’s coming in late tonight.”
“What’s going on, LaRue? Is this the brushoff?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come here,” he said, and he took her hand. He pulled her to the distant end of the room, away from the blaring jukebox and the dancing. There were people sitting at the tables, but he led her to a corner table where they were as far from people as they were going to get. He pulled out a chair for her, and then he sat down next to her and took her hand. “LaRue, I’m going out of my mind tonight. I’m on my way to the war, and I feel like you don’t even care.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ned. It’s too bad, but I think you’ll be safe–probably just about as safe as you are here.”
“You don’t know that.” He looked away, across the room. “It Had to Be You” was playing–with Dick Haymes singing–and Ned seemed to listen for a time. “That’s not the point,” he finally said. “I thought you’d feel bad I was leaving.”
“I do, Ned. But you always did want to make things serious, and I’ve told you before, I don’t want to do that.”
“I want to marry you, LaRue. So yeah, I guess that’s pretty serious.”
LaRue didn’t say anything. She let him hold her hand, even move his other arm around her. She could see now that she wasn’t going to get out of this situation easily after all.
“LaRue, you’ve never told me you love me. But the way you’ve kissed me, the way you’ve looked at me sometimes, I had to think that you do.”
Again LaRue didn’t answer. There was something so weak about the way Ned was doing this. She wished he would just demand an answer, and then she would give it to him.
“Here’s what I’m thinking: I know you aren’t ready to get married right now. I wish you were, but I also know it’s hard to get married and then see your husband leave immediately. But what if we got engaged? We could make a promise to each other, and then . . . no, wait a minute . . . I’m doing this wrong. Let me say it this way: LaRue, will you marry me? Will you accept an engagement ring, and then marry me when I get back?”
“No, Ned. You know I won’t do that.”
“Can’t we at least reach some kind of understanding?”
“Ned, I’m
still in high school. I’m not ready to think about marriage.”
“High school?”
“Ned, I’m only a sophomore in high school. I’m only fifteen.”
“What are you talking about? I thought you were eighteen.”
“I never told you that. It’s just the idea you got.”
Ned pulled his chair away–around the circular table–so he could look into her face. “Fifteen?”
“Yes.”
He struck the table and swore. “What’s going on here, LaRue? I’ve been talking to you about marriage for a couple of months. Why didn’t you say something?”
LaRue shrugged. And for the first time, she felt ashamed. He was handsome in his khaki Army Air Force uniform, and he looked so crushed. She could hardly believe she had the power to hurt someone that much.
“I don’t believe this.” Ned sat silent for a long time. LaRue hoped he would tell her off; she had that much coming. And it would finally end everything. But Ned took hold of her hand again and said, “It doesn’t matter. We can work this out. Once I get out of the service, you’ll be old enough to get married. And I still want to marry you.”
“Ned, listen to me. I liked dancing with you and everything–having a boyfriend–but it never was serious with me.”
“That isn’t true. I know the way you kissed me. That wasn’t any little girl stuff.”
LaRue was embarrassed about that. She knew that she had liked the kissing more than she had ever liked Ned, but she couldn’t tell him that.
“Guys do stuff like that,” Ned said. “Get hot and bothered, and go after a girl, without really caring about her. But girls aren’t like that. At least nice girls aren’t. And I know you’re a nice girl.”
LaRue felt the stab, even though he hadn’t meant it. She sat and looked at him, asked herself what she did feel–about him, and about herself. “I do like you, Ned. I mean, I had a crush on you, and–”
“A crush?”
“Yes. But now there’s a boy at school I like. I’ll probably like a lot of boys before I think about getting married. I want to go to college and things like that.”
Ned was staring at her, and she didn’t like the accusation in his eyes. She looked toward the dance floor. The smoke in the room, the smell of the place, bothered her tonight. She didn’t know why she had liked it so much. Couples were dancing slowly, holding each other close, and over the clinking of glasses, the talk and the laughter, LaRue heard the plaintive lyrics: What’ll I do when you are far away? And I am blue; what’ll I do? She suddenly felt sorry for Ned.
“I don’t understand any of this,” he said.
“Ned, you just took everything too seriously. I didn’t want it to be like that.”
“No. I don’t buy that. You kept telling me how religious your family is, and about your high standards. I believed that.”
“What do you mean? You’re the one who tried to do things. I wouldn’t let you.”
He shook his head slowly back and forth. “You did enough to get your thrills.”
“I liked you kissing me, Ned, but I didn’t think you would make so much out of it.”
“You’re a little tramp. Do you know that? You were the one in this for the fun. I was serious. I fell in love with you, head over heels.”
“I’m not a tramp. What did I do?”
“If you were religious, you wouldn’t toy around with a person like that. You knew what I was feeling for you.”
LaRue looked down at the table.
“The first time you saw I was getting serious about you, why didn’t you say, ‘Ned, I’m only fifteen’? Why did you play me along like that? That’s not what a decent person does. If I’d been chasing some skirt–some little chippy who knows what’s up–I wouldn’t have got caught off guard. But I took you for what you said you were: a nice Mormon girl–too nice to tell lies.”
“Ned, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Yes you did. All you had to do was tell me the truth. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to believe in?”
“But I liked you. And I wanted you to keep liking me.”
“LaRue, there’s something wrong with you. All you keep talking about is yourself. Now you’ve got some high school boy after you, so that’s it for me. I could never do anything like that to you.”
She glanced up at him and saw that he was really hurting. Tears spilled onto his cheeks. “I love you, LaRue. I’m crazy about you. I can’t believe you did this.”
For the first time, she saw what he was seeing. He was going off to some island somewhere, and now he had nothing to look forward to, no one back home to hang onto. She was suddenly filled with guilt. “I’m sorry, Ned,” she told him. “I didn’t know it would end up like this. But you’re right about me. I’m not a nice girl.”
His response was to reach out and take hold of her shoulders. “Let’s start from scratch,” he said. “Let’s be honest with each other. I think you do care for me. That’s the only way I can think about this.”
LaRue stood up. Now she was crying. “Ned, I’d better just go. Let’s not make this worse.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I hope everything goes okay for you. I really mean that.”
A fast, loud number had begun to play: “G. I. Jive.” The noise was mounting. Ned stood up and grabbed LaRue, pulled her to him. “Don’t go. Please. I feel like I’m being pushed off a cliff.”
“I know. But I don’t want to make things worse. That’s not fair to you.”
“Dance with me. Let’s just–”
“No, Ned. I’ve got to go. I’m really, really sorry for what I did to you.”
“Can I write to you?”
“If you want to.”
“I want to. Will you be here next week, before I leave? The last time I can come down is on Tuesday.”
“I don’t know.”
“Please. I don’t want to leave without seeing you again.”
“All right.”
“LaRue, when the war is over, I’m coming back here. You’ll be older, and maybe you’ll feel different about things. Will you at least think about me–and write back? Maybe something could still work out between us.”
For the first time, LaRue actually considered that possibility. “I’ll be here next Tuesday,” she said. “And I will write to you. But don’t make too much of it, okay? I don’t want to lead you on anymore.”
“That’s good. That’s what I want.” And then he kissed her. LaRue had no idea whether she felt any love for him, but this kiss seemed something new, something between the two of them, not just something for her. And she was very clear about one thing: he was a better person than she was.
She walked away, left the USO without telling her boss she was going, and she cried most of the way home. She found her parents in the living room, so she stepped in and said, “Dad, I decided tonight that I won’t be going to the USO anymore. After next Tuesday, I’m going to quit.”
“What brought this on?” he asked. He had his reading glasses on and was looking at some kind of papers, probably something from work. He sounded a little skeptical.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just tired of the whole thing.”
“Did something happen?” Mom asked from across the room.
But LaRue didn’t want to go into that. She just wanted a truce with her parents. “No,” she said.
“Then why have you been crying?”
LaRue couldn’t help it. The tears came again.
“Honey, what’s going on? Is it about this young man you’ve been seeing down there?”
“Not exactly.” LaRue needed to think, to sort things out, but she didn’t want to talk with her parents right now. And so she headed for the stairs.
“Honey,” Mom called out. “Did you find a dress today?”
LaRue stopped on the stairs. She was surprised by her own reaction. “Mom, I don’t need a new dress,” she said. “I can wear one of the ones I have.”
Chapter 27
Alex could hardly believe his good fortune. Captain Summers had managed to pull some strings with division brass, and he had arranged for Alex a ten-day pass for Christmas, starting December 21. Alex would cross the Channel and spend Christmas day and another few days with Anna. It was all he lived for now. He imagined from morning until night what it would be like to hold her in his arms, to share Christmas dinner, to bask in the civilized, kindly atmosphere. Away from the army there was another world, another life; it seemed only fantasy at times now, but he would rediscover it, and the experience would recharge his will so he could get through whatever lay ahead.
When he returned to France, conditions would not be bad for a few months. All the talk was that the airborne units wouldn’t drop again until infantry troops made it through the Rhine and the Siegfried lines. No one knew how much longer Germany could hold out after that, but the men were all telling each other that German soldiers would spend their last effort at the borders. The war, at least in Europe, would end quickly after that. The men would probably have to make a drop into Japan, eventually, and that looked like a grim experience, but Alex didn’t want to look that far ahead. He wanted his time with Anna; he wanted to feel alive and whole again, and then he would deal with the rest.
On Sunday evening, December 17, he had not been in bed long but was sound asleep when he heard someone tromp into the barracks. “Wake up, men. I’ve got something to tell you.”
It was Lieutenant Wells, the new company commander. Since pulling back to Camp Mourmelon, Captain Summers had been promoted to battalion executive officer, the officer who made the actual decisions in the field. Summers was the most highly regarded officer in the battalion, so he was a popular choice, but Lieutenant Wells was a big disappointment to the men in E Company. He had transferred in from another company, and this was his first command. He talked big, but the men who had known him as a platoon leader said he was indecisive, even skittish, when the pressure was on.
