Of Windmills and War (24 page)

“No,
Joey. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that this is the first I’ve heard
about this. How come you never told me?”

“We
haven’t seen much of you around here, son,” his father added after taking a sip
of tea.

“That’s
a fact,” Joey said. “It’s like all of a sudden you were allergic to home. We
couldn’t lure you back for nothing.”

Danny concentrated
on the food on his plate. “Just a rough semester. That’s all. So who’s the
lucky girl? Anyone I know?”

Joey
swallowed a bite of mashed potatoes. “I doubt you know her, but you’ll get a
kick out of this. Remember Mrs. Zankowski from high school?”

“You’re
dating Mrs. Zankowski?” he teased. “Does Mr. Zankowski know about this?”

“No,
goofball. Her niece, Millie Davis. She got a job working for Armour, and she’s
staying at her aunt’s house.”

“Lara
brought her down to meet Joey,” Mom continued, beaming. “The minute they laid
eyes on each other, I knew it was something special. Never saw anything quite
like it.”

“Was it
that obvious?” Joey asked.

Dad
pointed a carrot stick at him. “I’m hardly the romantic type, but even I could
tell she was head over heels for you, son.”

If he
hadn’t heard it with his own ears, Danny never would’ve believed such words
could come from his dad’s mouth. He’d been quite sure his father wouldn’t know
romance if it hit him up side the head.

Danny cleared
his throat. “Clearly, I’ve missed out. So what’s she like?”

“You’ll
love her, Danny. She’s fantastic. Not to mention the fact she’s easy on the
eyes.”

“Yeah?
Davis
 . . . doesn’t
sound very Polish to me.”

“Lara’s
sister Melanie married a dentist named Clayton Davis,” Mother said, passing
Danny the cranberries. “Millie is their daughter.”

“I see.
Well, when do I get to meet this angel?”

“Patience,
little brother. She went home to
Boston
for
the weekend. She’ll be back early Sunday evening if you want to stick around.”

“I’ll
do it.”

“Your
brother’s doing a real fine job at the theater, Danny,” Dad said. “Seems to
like the work. And they like him too, I can tell you that  much. I think half
the folks come just so they can talk to a war hero.”

“Ah,
they’re just being nice, Dad. Hey, Danny. We just got in the reels for
The
Flying Tigers
. John Wayne is in it—that actor you like. The theater’s
closed today. Wanna go get a sneak peek? Just the two of us?”

“Sure
thing. Let me help Mom clean up then we can—”

“Nonsense,”
Dad said. “I’ll help with the dishes. You boys go on and have a good time.”

He
looks like Dad. He sounds like Dad. But the man is helping with the
dishes?
Danny shook his head. “Well, okay. Just promise you’ll save
us some of that pumpkin pie.”

“I made
two pies. I doubt we’ll run out,” Mom said, gathering their empty plates. “Go
on. Have a good time, boys.”

Two and
a half hours later, they sat in the middle of the empty theater as the final
credits rolled.

“Not
too bad,” Joey said. “Of course, I heard the movie was already in production
before
Pearl
. Did
you notice the date on the calendar behind John Wayne’s character when he was
firing Woody? December seventh. Kind of blows the whole story. But still, I
enjoyed it.”

Danny let
the music fade as the credits rolled to a stop. “Yeah, it was good. I liked the
aerial cat fights. Made you feel like you were really up there with them.
What’s it like seeing something like that after being in the service?”

Joey
scratched the crinkled scars on his left hand. “Good question. We’d run war
games and all, but we were pretty much blown out of the water before the
U.S.
got
into the war.”

“True.”
They sat in silence for a moment. “I think if I ever joined up, I’d want to be
a pilot.”

“Can’t
blame you. Better up there than sitting ducks like we were on the
Oklahoma
.”

“I
didn’t mean it that way, Joey.”

“No, I
understand. I wanted to fly, but I didn’t have the grades for it. You’d have no
problem, academic genius that you are.”

“I
don’t know about that. My grades have really taken a nose dive this semester.”

“I doubt
that.”

“It’s
true. Don’t say anything to Mom and Dad, okay?”

“I
won’t. But how’d that happen? Grades have always come easy for you.”

“They
used to.”

“Wait—does
this have something to do with that girl who dumped you for the football
player?”

Danny scowled.
“Thanks a lot. Would you like to throw a match on the gasoline you just poured
over me?”

“Not
hardly. I still get a little nervous around fire.”

“Oh my
gosh,” Danny said as he dropped his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Joey. That
was thoughtless of me to say.”

Joey
laughed. “No kidding! Look, Danny. I didn’t mean to make light of what happened
to you. Women can trample a guy’s pride like nothing else can. But don’t let
her ruin your life. I’m sure she was a real peach and all, but no matter who
she is, she’s not worth cashing in all you’ve worked for. You’ve got to let her
go.”

“Says
the brother with the perfect girlfriend.”

“Well,
that’s
true.” Joey smiled. “But what I was trying to say is don’t let a broken heart
define you for the rest of your life.”

They
sat in silence again, then Danny sat up a little straighter. “Can I ask you
something?”

“Sure.”

“If you
had to do it all over, would you? I mean, if you knew then that you would’ve
been burned so badly because you were serving your country at
Pearl
Harbor
,
would you have still gone off and joined the Navy?”

“I had
a lot of time to think about stuff like that when I was in the burn ward. I
asked myself that and a million other questions. But I can honestly say—absolutely,
positively yes. I wouldn’t trade anything for my years in service. I left home
a kid and came back a man. Yeah, I’ve got the battle scars to show for it, but
I loved everything about it. Well, except for . . . except for
losing all my friends. That was the hardest. Those guys were like family to me,
Danny. We lived together, worked together, played together. I would’ve given my
life for any one of them. And they’d have said the same.”

Danny ran
his fingernail in a groove of the upholstered armrest, back and forth, back and
forth, as his mind jumped around.

“And
I’ll tell you this much. If they hadn’t sent me home, I’d still be there
fighting today. I’d give anything to help win this war.”

“You’re
serious?”

“That’s
what keeps me awake at night. Not the what-ifs or the ugly scars I see in the
mirror. I’d give anything to be back on a battleship doing whatever it takes to
beat our enemies. I envy every man in uniform right now. Would I go back? In a
heartbeat.”

32

As
Danny rode the El back to
Evanston
late Sunday night, he
felt unusually restless. He’d enjoyed being home for Thanksgiving break. He’d
especially enjoyed meeting Joey’s girl, Millie. Mom and Dad were right. She was
crazy about Joey. Just observing the way she watched over him and looked at him
with such a transparent affection was a visible reminder that there are still a
few decent, good women out there. Millie had a great sense of humor, teasing
Joey playfully as he bantered back and forth with her. Danny wouldn’t be
surprised at all if Joey popped the question before Christmas.

Then he
started thinking about the conversation he’d had with his brother that night at
the theater. In fact, he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. He stared out the
window into the darkness, wishing he could stop the restless, uneasy feeling
that continued to gnaw at him. He tried writing in his journal, but shoved it
back in his duffle, just anxious to get back to his dorm.

It was
after nine when he made his way down the hall toward his room. That’s when he
saw someone walk out of his room with a suitcase.

“Hey!
What do you think you’re doing?”

The man
set the suitcase down beside two others and turned to face him. “Are you Mr. McClain?”

Danny dropped
his duffle. “Yes, I am and this is my room. Who are you?”

He was
probably fifty years old, maybe fifty-five, with salt and pepper hair, a tanned
complexion, and pale blue eyes. Then it hit him.
Just like Craig’s eyes.

“I’m
Reginald Gilmore, Craig’s father.” He dug his hands in his coat pocket and blew
out a loud breath. “I’m afraid Craig won’t be coming back to school.”

Danny wasn’t
too surprised. He’d figured this would happen at some point. Craig had played
at being a student, but never took it seriously. He’d actually been surprised
that his roommate returned for the fall semester. Of course, he never saw that
much of him. A whole string of college coeds kept Craig busy most of the time.

“I’m
sorry to hear that. Is he here?” Danny tried to look into their room.

“No.
No, he’s not here. He, uh . . . he was killed in an automobile accident
Wednesday night.”

“What?!”
Danny felt the air rush from his chest. “No! He can’t . . .”

Mr.
Gilmore’s eyes glistened. He coughed then looked back up at him. “Yes, well,
we’re all still in shock, of course. Craig was our only child.
He . . . he was on his way home for the holidays and apparently
his car swerved off the road. There was ice on the road and they said a
truck rammed him from behind and Craig’s car flew down a ravine. They said he
most likely died on impact.”

Danny kept
shaking his head, unable to speak.

“I know
my son was a bit of a character most of the time, but deep down—well, deep
down, he was a good boy. I . . .” He pulled a handkerchief out
of his pocket and wiped his eyes. “I’m not sure how we’ll go on without him.”

Danny clenched
his jaw and rubbed his hands together. “Mr. Gilmore, I’m so sorry. I just
can’t believe it. Craig was—I mean, he was . . .”

Mr.
Gilmore put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “It’s hard on all of us.”

Danny pinched
the bridge of his nose. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,
I’m just about finished gathering his things. The RA downstairs let me in. I’m
sorry if I startled you.”

“No,
I’m sorry I sounded suspicious when I first saw you. Here, let me help you
carry these downstairs.”

“Thank
you, Mr. McClain.”

A few
minutes later, after helping Craig’s father load the car, Danny shook his hand
and said goodbye. He shook off a chill as the biting wind off
Lake
Michigan
danced around him. He wasn’t about to go back upstairs. He
was used to having the room to himself, but not like this.

Danny started
walking across campus. How many times had he done the very same thing this last
semester? How many miles had he walked around
Evanston
and
along the beach late at night while trying to make sense of everything? He
could taste the bile in his mouth, and for a moment he thought he might throw
up. But what good would it do?

When he
finally started heading back to his dorm near dawn, he was numb from the
blustering wind. Somewhere behind him, drunken voices pierced the quiet
solitude. Probably some frat boys about to call it a night.

“Well
looky what we have here. It’s one of those sissy deferment boys!”

Not
again.

“That’s
sissy deferment boy SIR to you!”

They laughed
as they caught up, flanking each side of him as the sailor on his right draped an
arm over Danny’s shoulder. “How’s it going, sissy boy?”

They could
barely walk and reeked of alcohol. He decided to ignore them, hoping they’d get
bored and move on, or just pass out and be done with it.

“Cat
got your tongue, boy? I believe Midshipman Clancy here asked you a question.”

“Ah, sissy
boy can’t answer. He’s got a pacifier in his mouth.”

The
sailor beside him got right in his face. “Is that right, sissy boy? You got a
widdle pacifier in yo mouth, sweetie pie?”

Danny elbowed
him away and picked up his pace. “Guys, let it go.”

The one
on his left, a short guy with red hair, grabbed his arm and whipped him around.
“Oh, I don’t think so, prissy pants! Just because you’re too much of a weanie
to serve your country—”

“I
said, let it go,” Danny growled, jerking his arm free.

“Let
what go? Oh—you mean this?” The redhead unzipped his fly and urinated on Danny’s
shoes.

Danny jumped
out of the way, but the damage was done. In a split second, he cold-cocked the
guy’s nose, immediately hearing the snap of cartilage. As blood began to pour
from the guy’s nose, Danny felt his arms pulled tight behind him, almost yanked
out of their sockets. The first punch to his gut took his breath away, but he
kept fighting back. He was outnumbered but sober, and that had to count for
something.

They
cursed, they punched, they stomped, and they twisted him in knots, but he
didn’t give up. He wasn’t about to give in, but he wasn’t sure how much longer
he could last.

“You
sorry little mama’s boy—this one’s for
Pearl
!” The
kick landed right in his groin sending Danny to his knees. Stars danced before
his eyes as his kneecaps slammed into the pavement.

“MY
BROTHER WAS AT PEARL, you idiot!” he wheezed.

“What’d
he say?”

“Did he
say his brother was at
Pearl
?”

A lot
of scuffling. Cussing. Accusations.

Then silence.

A
moment later, the darkness swallowed him whole.

“How’d the other guy look?”

Danny held the cold compress against his jaw wishing he
could put it down where the pain really hurt. “Guys. Plural. There were eight
of them.”

“Eight? Well then, now I’m impressed!”

“Don’t be. They were sailors.”

The Army sergeant laughed heartily, leaning back in his
chair. “Even better! Any day’s a good day when you whack some of those Navy fruitcakes!
Son, we may have just opened but you’ve already made my day!”

“I know. I’ve been sitting outside since the sun came up.”

“Is that a fact? What can I do for you, Mr. McClain?”

Danny moved the compress from his face. “You can sign me up
for the Army Air Force. I’m here to enlist.”