The Mine (30 page)

The plan he had sketched out was simple. He would work at Carter's through Friday, treat the girls to dinner and drinks that night, take a taxi to King Street Station Saturday morning, and catch the first train to Montana. He would enter the mine on Monday. If it sent him back to 2000, he would grab the first ride home. If it did not, he would return to Seattle, marry Grace, if she would have him, and enlist in the Navy.

Joel considered driving Tom's Plymouth to Helena, for the sheer experience and to eliminate the need for a cab on Monday morning, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Six hundred miles was a long drive on potentially icy roads and he did not want to create undue hardship on the Carters should he leave the car behind.

He also pondered flying. Though only fourteen years had passed since Charles Lindbergh had crossed the Atlantic, commercial aviation was as common as rain. A twenty-one-seat aircraft left Seattle for points east every night at eight forty. But the puddle-jumping flight did not arrive in Helena until well after one in the morning. A daytime train ride through the scenic Northwest had far more appeal. He would collect his thoughts in the comfort of a roomy sleeping car and save his third freight-hopping adventure for another day.

The only difficult task was deciding how to part with Grace. She deserved the truth, the complete and unvarnished truth. But he would not tell her the truth before he left and could not tell her afterward if the mine sent him home. So he resolved to write a long, meaningful letter and entrust it to Ginny, with the explicit instruction that she not give it to Grace before Christmas.

When the ornate moon-phase clock on the mantle chimed seven times, Joel got off the couch, walked to the corner of the living room, and grabbed his jacket off an oak coat rack. He put it on, checked a pocket for his keys, and returned to face his hosts.

"I should probably get going. I told the girls I'd stop by tonight. Thank you for the dinner, Mrs. Carter. As usual, it was the best."

Sandra Carter acknowledged the compliment and smiled as she and Mel got out of their chairs and walked their visitor to the entry. She said she had missed cooking for Joel, just as she no doubt missed cooking and caring for her grown children, who in September had left her with a conspicuously empty nest.

"You're always welcome here, Joel – for a meal, a place to stay, anything," Sandy said. "We've enjoyed being a part of your life. Have a safe trip."

Joel stepped forward and hugged her for several seconds. When he pulled away, he noticed that her eyes were teary and wondered why. Was it residual emotion from the day at the armory or something else? Did she see what was coming? If there was one person in Seattle besides Grace who could read his face, it was this perceptive mother. Maybe she knew this wasn't so long but goodbye.

He zipped his coat, grabbed a plate of chocolate-chip cookies Sandy had baked on Sunday, and turned to Mel. He offered a hand to the boss, who looked resigned.

"Can I count on you tomorrow?" Mel asked.

"You can. There's no need for a day off this week. I'll be there at eight, if not earlier." Joel started to step toward the door and then stopped. "There is one other thing. What would you like me to do with the car? I won't need it after Friday."

"Keep it at your place and park it in the driveway," Mel said. "I have another set of keys if I need to use it."

"Sounds like you have it covered," Joel said as he wrestled with the awkwardness of the moment. "Well, I guess I'm out. If I get the opportunity, Mrs. Carter, I'll stop by before I leave. You never know when I might need to do laundry."

Sandy brightened.

"Just drop it at the door and I'll take care of it. It's no bother."

Sandy straightened the collar of Joel's jacket and tightened the foil on his plate. When he turned and walked toward the door, she followed and spoke one last time.

"Joel?"

"Yes."

"Will you leave us an address?"

Joel cringed. He could not believe he had not covered that base. He had no Helena address, unless he counted the flophouse. But then, there was a lot to remember when you lived a lie. He would not miss having to cover his tracks at every turn.              

"I don't think that will be necessary. I don't plan to be gone long. If I stay more than a few days, I'll put something in the mail. I promise."

He meant it too. Where he would send that something, however, was a bit of a problem. Even the U.S. Postal Service did not deliver postcards to the past.

CHAPTER 61

The Mad Dog was as quiet as a graduate of obedience school.

Ginny, in fact, had never seen the place this empty on a Friday night. But then, she had never seen the tavern compete with the Senior Ball, the biggest social event on the university's calendar. Hundreds of the school's upperclassmen had already left campus for the black-tie event at the Olympus Hotel.

"It's really nice of you to do this, Joel," she said. "It seems every time I turn around you are coming to the rescue of one of us."

"It's my pleasure. I should have done this earlier. But the timing is good, no?"

"It is very good," Katie said. "Who needs the ball anyway?"

Ginny winced. She wanted to say, "I do," but held her tongue. She would have loved nothing more than to be dancing with Tom, rather than thinking about how he was handling basic training fifty miles away. She had received a letter from him every day, but even the best letters were no substitute for personal contact. The Army had cheated her of the highlight of her senior year.

Katie had had the opportunity to go. A Japanese American friend had asked her to the ball late Thursday night. But she said he seemed more interested in finding a last-minute dance partner than striking up romance, so she politely declined.

Grace had discussed the ball for weeks, but when she finally asked Joel to go, on the Sunday drive back from their island escape, he declined. He had said he wanted to get a good night's sleep Friday before taking an early train to Montana the next morning.

Ginny wondered whether that decision had anything to do with Grace's absence at the table. She had accepted Joel's invitation for dinner but backed out at the eleventh hour to put the finishing touches on a collaborative academic project that apparently could not wait for the weekend. When Ginny and Katie had left for the Mad Dog, Grace headed for an off-campus residence eight blocks away.

"When are you going for Goldilocks?" Ginny asked.

"She'll be done at eight, and I'll pick her up then," Joel said. "So I have at least a couple of hours with you lovely ladies. Have you figured out what you want to eat?"

"I think I'm going with the pork chops," Katie said.

"The fish looks good," Ginny said. "Why don't you go ahead and order for me? I have to go to the ladies room and might be a while."

"Take your time."

Ginny slid out of the booth and walked slowly to the other side of the establishment, where ornate wreaths and strands of colorful lights adorned a wall and holiday music streamed out of a console radio. She said something to a waitress in a red fur-lined dress and a matching cap and then disappeared around a corner.

* * * * *

"She hasn't felt well lately," Katie said. "The separation with Tom has ground her to bits. I've never seen her this way."

"How's Grace doing?"

"She's just the opposite. She has been in good spirits since Thanksgiving. You must have had a terrific time at Aunt Edith's."

"Yeah, we did," Joel said, thinking of an afternoon and an incredible evening that already seemed in the distant past.

"It's funny how things work out," Katie said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you and Grace. I would have never guessed all of this when we first met. You belonged to Linda. She had all but picked out the monogrammed napkins."

Joel laughed.

"How come you never offered to go to the baseball game when she got sick? I would have been happy to take you. We would have had a good time."

"Oh, I know so. I wanted to go too! But I knew Linda would get better soon, and I did not want to stand in the way of that charging bull. So I made up an excuse."

Katie's eyes lit up as she recalled her one and only opportunity to go out with Joel Smith. She said she had wanted to tell him for weeks but also appeared sincere when she told him that things had worked out for the best. Katie resumed the conversation after Santa's helper took their orders.

"You've made Grace very happy. When she got back from Whidbey Island she told me that she was done looking. That's it. No more. She said she could not imagine another man in her life. She loves you very much."

Joel winced when he heard the words. He was in way over his head. Dumping Grace now would leave serious scars. He revisited the seemingly impeccable logic that had driven him to this point and wondered if it was too late to reconsider.

Then he heard a conversation in an adjacent booth that made him think of something else, something far more pressing. Two male students debated the inevitability of war with Japan. Joel saw Katie frown when one raised his voice.

"Don't let them get to you. They're just scared. Everyone's scared."

"I'm OK. I don't think anything could be worse than the other night. I really appreciate what you did for me. Not everyone would have done that."

Joel nodded but did not respond to the comment. He instead pulled a sealed envelope out of his jacket pocket and gave it to Katie. Twenty-five one-hundred-dollar bills resided inside.

"I want you to hold this until I get back."

"What is it?"

"I'd rather not say. Whatever you do, don't lose it. Keep it in a safe place. If I return by next week, I want it back. If I don't, it's yours. I know you'll put it to good use."

"It's a mystery. I love it!" she said.

Joel offered a thin smile. Deciphering mysteries would soon be the least of Katie Kobayashi's concerns. But he did not want to spoil her moment.

Ten minutes later the waitress put three dinners on the table and the boys in the next booth took off. Katie eyed the vocal one closely as he bolted out the door.

"I'm not sorry to see them leave," she said.

"Neither am I," Joel said. He fidgeted in his seat, sipped his beer, and focused on his friend. "Katie, I want you to promise me something."

"What's that?"

"Don't lose your faith in humanity."

"I don't understand. Why would I do that?"

"Because sometimes stuff happens that can test that faith. Sometimes good people do bad things for reasons that don't make sense. But it doesn't mean you should give up on them. I want you to remember that, now and in the years to come."

"You're scaring me. Can you tell me what this is about?"

"No. Not now. I've said enough. Just remember what I said, OK?

"I will."

"Now let's talk about something else. I see Ginny coming."

* * * * *

Ginny smiled at Joel as she walked toward the booth and reclaimed her seat. She sipped a flat beer and stirred her rapidly cooling dinner.

"Thank you for ordering for me."

"Do you feel any better?"

"My stomach is better."

Joel picked up the omission immediately and reached across the table. He put his hand on Ginny's and gave it a pat.

"I know this is hard. I miss him too."

"It's so damned unfair," she said, tearing up and turning away. "We were just getting started. I'm so angry with myself for squandering the summer. I should have spent more time with him and less working on those stories. They mean nothing to me now."

"I know."

Joel kept his eyes on Ginny's even as she conspicuously avoided his. It pained him to see her like this. He remembered all the times she had comforted him after he had scraped a knee or blown a game or flunked a test and wanted to pay her back in spades. He wanted to say, "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and I'm pretty damn sure he'll put Tom in your stocking on Christmas Eve." But he knew there was little he could do at this point to lighten her mood. Still, he tried.

"You know, one of the reasons I wanted to eat here is because this is where I first met Tom. Of course, I was sleeping on the bench out front and he was getting pummeled across the street. But the night has sentimental value."

Ginny finally came around, laughing hard through tears.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked. "He so enjoys being your friend."

"Can you visit him down at the base?"

"Not until he gets out of boot camp. He's got seven more weeks. If I'm lucky I'll get to see him when he boards another bus."

Ginny wiped makeup on a napkin and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Joel. I shouldn't be burdening you with all this. We should be talking about you and your reunion with your family."

"That's OK."

"When do you leave?"

"I leave on the morning train tomorrow."

"Are you excited?"

"I'm nervous."

"You've never told us much about your family. Maybe now's a good time. I seem to have a lot of time on my hands now."

He desperately wanted to talk about something else but saw he had no choice. Ginny and Katie had essentially pulled up campstools. So for the next hour Joel spun the great fiction that was his turbulent Montana adolescence and his rapt listeners put their very real troubles aside.

"Have you told your family about Grace?" Katie asked.

"Yes," Joel lied. "They know all about Grace and want to meet her soon."

"It's too bad she can't join you tomorrow," Ginny said.

"Yeah. I know." Joel looked at the clock on the wall and then at the girls. "It's ten till eight. I should probably get going."

"Well, don't leave without a hug," Katie said.

"I wouldn't think of it."

Joel put two ten-dollar bills on the table and accompanied his friends to a small, unoccupied lobby. He embraced each and then pulled another envelope out of his jacket.

"This is a card for Grace," he said to Ginny. "If I'm not back by Christmas, give it to her then – but not a day earlier. It's very important."