Lone Eagle (11 page)

“Just sit tight, Kate. Will you be at school, or at your parents'?” He wanted to know where to find her. It might only be a matter of hours before he had to leave. If so, he wanted to know where she'd be, in case he could see her. There was a possibility that he wouldn't have time, but he was hoping for at least a few minutes with her.

“I'm going to my parents' house this afternoon. We're off until after the Christmas holidays.” But it was going to be a grim Christmas this year.

“I'm going to start flying east in a couple of hours, in case I hit a lot of weather. I've got to be in Washington tomorrow. I hate leaving everything out here in midstream.” But he had no choice, he had no other option. It was what the entire country was doing. Men everywhere were dropping everything and going to war.

“Is the weather all right for you to leave?” She sounded even more worried. He wanted to promise her everything would be fine, but he couldn't. But just talking to him comforted her. There was something so solid and sensible and unruffled about him. He seemed to have none of the sense of hysteria that everyone else had. He seemed like an island of calm in a stormy sea, which was very much Joe's style.

“The weather is fine out here,” he said calmly. “I'm not so sure what it'll look like as we get further east.” He was bringing two other men with him. “I've got to go home and pack now, Kate. We're leaving in two hours. I'll call you when I can.”

“I'll be at home waiting.” There was no point playing games. All her efforts and senses were aimed at seeing him before he was shipped overseas, in whichever direction. It was suddenly past the time to pretend that she didn't care. She did. A great deal.

All the girls bade each other a tearful goodbye, as they left one by one to return to their homes in assorted places, and some had a long way to travel. The girl from Hawaii was going home with a friend from California, but her parents didn't want her to return to Honolulu, in case the Japanese attacked again. Thousands of men had died and been injured at Pearl Harbor, along with a number of civilians.

The girls from Japan had to report to the Japanese consulate in Boston. They were even more frightened than the others, and had no idea what would happen to them. They had no way of contacting their parents, and no idea when or how or even if they would get home.

Kate got home late that afternoon, and when she did, both her parents were waiting for her. They looked frightened and distressed. The radio was on constantly, and they all knew that it was only a matter of hours or days before American troops began to fight.

“Did you hear from Joe?” her father asked her as she set down her suitcase in the front hall. He had sent a driver over to help her with her bags. He hadn't wanted to leave her mother. Elizabeth was looking pale and nervous. Her father was impressed by Kate's composure. She seemed surprisingly calm, and nodded when he asked about Joe.

“He's flying in to Washington tomorrow. He doesn't know yet where they're going to send him.” Her father nodded in answer, and her mother glanced at her with concern, but didn't comment about Joe. Kate and Joe seemed to be in alarmingly frequent communication, but admittedly, these were unusual circumstances. Liz couldn't help wondering how often he had called her before.

They ate dinner in the kitchen that night, with the radio on, and none of them said a word. The food sat on their plates getting colder by the minute, and eventually Kate helped her mother clear the table, and scraped the still full plates into the garbage can. It was a long night that night, as Kate lay in her bed, thinking
about Joe, and wondering how far east he had come so far, and if she would be able to see him before he was shipped off to war.

It was nearly noon the next day when he called her. He had just landed in Washington, D.C., at Boiling Field Airport.

“I just wanted you to know I got here safely.” She was relieved to hear from him, but neither of them could explain why he felt a need to call her. This was definitely more than friendship, but neither of them wanted to talk about it. They didn't have to, or even admit it to each other. It was obvious that he felt linked to her in some silent, secret way that they weren't ready to acknowledge with words. “I'm going to the War Office now. I'll call you later, Kate.”

“I'll be here.” He was keeping her apprised of his every move. The phone rang again four hours later. He had been briefed all afternoon, and given his orders and commission. He had been made a captain in the Army Air Corps, and would be flying fighter missions with the RAF. He was leaving in two days for London, from New York. He would get his training, in military protocol, and formation flying in England. He had done a fair amount of it in air shows, and it was something he was exceptionally good at. That afternoon President Roosevelt announced to the nation that America had officially entered the war in Europe.

“That's it, kid. I'll be out of here in two days. But I'm going to a very decent place.”

He was going to East Anglia and he had been there before to visit the RAF. Within two weeks, they
expected him to be flying fighter missions. The thought of it terrified her, particularly when she realized that once the Germans knew he had joined the Allied war effort, they'd be gunning for him. With his reputation as a flying ace, he was just the kind of pilot they wanted to eliminate, and she knew they would do everything they could to shoot him down. He was in far greater danger than the others, and just knowing that turned her stomach. It was unbearable thinking of him going away for God only knew how long, and being in danger nearly every moment. She couldn't even begin to imagine how she was going to live knowing that, with no news of him. It was obviously going to be impossible for him to call her. But they still had two days, or as much of it as he could spend with her. They had already both assumed that he would spend as much time with her as possible before he flew to Europe. In a matter of hours, everything between them had changed. The pretense of friendship had already begun to slip away, and their relationship had already begun to evolve into something else.

As it turned out, he had to pick up uniforms and more papers, and it was the next day before he could leave Washington. He was flying out the following day at six o'clock in the morning. To be sure he didn't miss the plane, he had to be back in New York by midnight. It was ten in the morning when he took the plane from Washington to Boston, and nearly one o'clock when he landed. His plane to New York was at ten o'clock that night. They had exactly nine hours to spend together. Young couples all over the country were facing the same
dilemma. Some got married in the little time they had left, others went to hotels to find what comfort they could with each other. Others just sat in train stations, or coffee shops, or on park benches in freezing weather. All they wanted was to share their last moments of freedom and peacetime, and cling to each other. And as she thought of them, Kate's mother felt even sorrier for the mothers who were saying goodbye to sons. She couldn't imagine anything worse.

Kate was waiting for Joe when he landed at East Boston Airport. He came off the plane looking serious and trim in a brand-new army uniform, which suited him to perfection. He looked even more handsome than he had at their home on Thanksgiving. And he smiled as he strode across the runway and approached her. He looked as though nothing was wrong, and this time when he got to her, he put an arm around her shoulders.

“It's okay, Kate. Relax. Everything will be okay.” He could see instantly how terrified she was for him. “I'm one guy who'll know what he's doing over there. Flying is flying.” It reminded her instantly of his extraordinary ease and expertise when she had flown with him only two weeks before.

But they both knew that normally, when he flew, no one was trying to shoot him down. Despite what he said to quell her fears, this was going to be very different. “What are we going to do today?” he asked, as though it was an ordinary day, and they didn't have to say goodbye to each other in less than nine hours. Couples all over the country were spending their last hours together, just as they were.

“Do you want to go back to the house?” she asked, looking vague. It was hard not to be distracted, or imagine that you could hear a clock ticking. The minutes were drifting away from them, and almost before it had begun, their last day together would be over, and he would be gone. She could feel a shiver of fear run through her at the thought. She wasn't even aware of it, but she hadn't felt as frightened or bereft since her father died.

“Why don't we go out for lunch? We can go to the house afterward. I want to say goodbye to your parents.” She thought it seemed very respectful of him. And even her mother had stopped overtly worrying about his intentions. Whatever she was feeling about him, she was keeping to herself, and Kate was grateful for that. They all felt sorry for him, and millions of other young men just like him.

He took her to Locke-Ober's for lunch, and despite the elegant room and the fine meal, Kate could hardly eat. All she could think of was not where they were now, but where he was going in a matter of hours. The effort to have a civilized meal was essentially wasted on her. They were back at her house at three o'clock. Her mother was sitting in the living room, listening to the radio, as she always did now, and her father was not yet back from the office.

They sat and talked to her mother for a little while, and listened to the news, and at four o'clock, her father came home, and shook hands with Joe while patting his shoulder in a fatherly way. His eyes seemed to say it all, and neither of them found words to express what they were feeling. And after a little while, Clarke took
Elizabeth upstairs, to leave the young people alone. They had enough to think about, Clarke felt, without having to worry about entertaining her parents. And both Kate and Joe were grateful to have some time together. It would have been out of the question to take him to her bedroom, to just relax and talk. No matter how well they behaved, the impropriety of it would have offended her mother, so Kate didn't even try to suggest it. Instead, they sat quietly on the couch in the living room, talking to each other, and trying not to think of the minutes ticking by.

“I'll write to you, Kate. Every day, if I can,” he promised. There were a myriad things in his eyes, and he looked troubled. But he didn't offer to explain what he was thinking, and she was afraid to ask. She still had no idea how he felt about her, if they had just become very dear friends, or if there was something more to it. She was far more clear about what she was feeling for him. She realized now that she had been in love with him for months, but she didn't dare say it to him. It had happened sometime during their exchange of letters since September, and seeing him over Thanksgiving had confirmed it to her. But she had been fighting it ever since. She had no idea if Joe reciprocated her feelings, and it would have been improper to ask. Even she, with all her brave ways, wouldn't have had the courage to do that. She just had to go on what she knew and what she felt, and appreciate that, for whatever reason, he had wanted to spend these last hours with her. But she also reminded herself that he had no one else to spend them with. Other than his cousins whom he hadn't seen in years, he had no other relatives, and no girlfriend. The
only person who seemed to matter to him was Charles Lindbergh. Other than that, he was alone in the world. And he had wanted to be with her.

It occurred to her as they sat close to each other on the couch, talking softly, that he hadn't had to come to Boston. He had only done that because he wanted to see her, and had stayed in close contact with her, ever since they'd heard the news, when Pearl Harbor had been attacked.

Kate told him, as they sat there, that her parents had canceled the coming-out party they'd been planning for her. She hadn't told him about it yet, but had planned to. She hadn't wanted to seem too anxious, but it was irrelevant now. All three Jamisons had agreed that it would have been in terrible taste to give a big party, and there probably wouldn't be many young men there anyway. Her father had promised to give a party for her after the war.

“It really doesn't matter now,” she told Joe, as he nodded.

“Was it going to be like the party where we met last year?” he asked with interest, it was a good topic to distract her. She looked so sad that it touched his heart. He realized more than ever that he'd been lucky to meet her when he did. He almost hadn't gone to the ball with Charles Lindbergh the year before. And the fact that he had had obviously been fate, for both of them.

Kate smiled at his question about her canceled party. “Nothing as fancy as that.” It was going to be at the Copley, for about two hundred people. There had been seven hundred people at the ball where they had met,
with enough caviar and champagne to supply an entire village for a year. “I'm glad my parents canceled,” she said quietly. Thinking about Joe in England, risking his life every day, was all she cared about now. She had already volunteered for the Red Cross, for whatever war effort they organized in the next few weeks. And Elizabeth had volunteered with her.

“You'll go back to school though, won't you?” he asked, and she nodded.

They sat quietly and talked for hours, and after a while, her mother brought them two plates of food. She didn't ask the young people to join them in the kitchen. Clarke thought they should be alone, and in spite of herself, Elizabeth agreed with him. She wanted to make things as easy as possible for both of them. They had enough anguish in their lives right then, without adding social burdens to it. And Joe stood and thanked her for the meal she had brought them. But they could barely eat as they sat next to each other, and finally he turned to Kate, and put both their plates on the table, as he took her hand in his. Tears filled her eyes before he could say anything to her.

“Don't cry, Kate,” he said gently. It was something he had never been able to deal with, but in this instance, he didn't blame her. There were tears being shed in living rooms everywhere. “It'll be okay. I have nine lives, as long as I'm in an airplane.” He had walked away from some incredible crashes in the years that he'd been flying.