The White Knight (11 page)

“I done tried to stop him, but you know how stubborn your son can get.” Luana stood up and returned to the kitchen.

“You got a telephone call while you were asleep,” Jolie said as she handed him a slip of paper. “I wrote the name and number down.”

Luke looked at the information thoughtfully and shook his head. “Who is she?”

“Maxine Rogers? Why, she's a reporter for the
Arkansas Gazette.
I'm surprised you've never heard of her.”

“What does she want?”

“She wants to interview you.”

“Not interested.”

“Yes you are. You're always talking about how people are not aware of what's going on in Europe. Well, here's your
chance to let them know. Thousands of people read the
Gazette,
so you can speak to every one of them.”

Luke made a face. “A woman, you say? Isn't it against the Bible for women to be reporters for newspapers?”

“I don't know where you heard that, but I certainly don't think there's anything like that in the Bible.”

Luke laughed. “I think you're right. Okay. I'll call the homely old girl.”

“How do you know she's homely?” Jolie demanded, interested in spite of herself.

“Good-looking girls get married and don't become reporters for the
Arkansas Gazette.
I'm surprised you don't know things like that, Mother.”

“You go call her right now.”

“Yes, Mother.” Luke laughed. He stood up and gave his mother a bear hug, picking her up off the floor. “You're the best-looking woman I've ever seen. Whoever this reporter is, she won't be as pretty as you.”

“Put me down, you fool!” Jolie protested, but actually she loved his teasing.

Luke made his way to the phone and dialed the number. At once a woman answered, saying, “Maxine Rogers.”

“Mrs. Rogers, this is Luke Winslow.”

“It's not Mrs. Just Maxine will do.”

“Fine. I'm Luke.”

“I'd like to do an interview. I want to do a story on the war.”

“Which war?”

“Why—in Spain.”

“That war's over.”

The woman laughed. She had a good voice, full of life, and sounded fairly young. “Then I'll let you pick the war, Luke. Tell you what. If you'll join me for dinner tonight, I'll buy.”

“Are you sure that's legal?”

“Am I sure what's legal?”

“Buying me supper. You might try to influence me by lavishing a good meal on me.”

“It won't be that expensive. Do you know where Leonard's Cafeteria is?”

“Had many a meal there.”

“How about if we meet there at seven o'clock?”

“How will I know you?”

“I'll wear a red hat and have a notebook in my hand.”

“All right. Leonard's it is at seven o'clock.”

Putting the phone down, Luke walked back into the kitchen. “I'm going to miss your supper tonight, Luana. A woman's buying me a meal at Leonard's.”

“You don't need to be eating there! My cookin's much better,” she protested.

“Leave him alone, Luana,” Jolie said. “We need to get his story in all the newspapers.”

Then his mother turned to him and said, “But don't make any appointments for tomorrow night. Timothy's coming over. And I've asked your cousins Wesley and Patrick and their families to come over too.”

“Sounds like the gathering of the Winslow clan. What's Wesley doing now?”

“You don't know? Why, he's become one of the most famous photographers in America.”

“Good for Wes. I knew he'd make it. I suppose those kids of his are about grown.”

“Yes. They're all in high school here. The twins are fifteen and Leslie is fourteen.”

“Makes me feel old.” Luke grinned, then left the room. “I wish he'd find hisself a wife. She'd keep him home and outta trouble,” Luana said. “Don't want him runnin' off to no more of them old wars!”

****

“How much am I allowed to spend?” Luke asked. He held his tray as they got in line, and mischief danced in his eyes as he turned to the woman. She was actually a pleasant surprise, being somewhere in her late twenties, he was guessing,
an attractive redhead with green eyes. He had expected a dowdy woman.

“A dollar fifty ought to fill you up.”

“A dollar fifty? Why, I might
spill
that much.”

Luke turned and moved down the line. He chose a salad, catfish with slaw, collard greens, and corn bread. He watched Maxine choose a salad and one piece of chicken. “You must be broke if that's all you can afford to eat.”

“I'm trying to lose weight.”

“Lose weight where?”

Maxine stared at him. “All over,” she said. “Now, let's grab that table over there.”

Leonard's was crowded, as it usually was. The two sat down and transferred their plates to the table.

“Do you ask a blessing before you eat?” Maxine asked.

“No. Do you?”

“Just a silent one.”

“I was hoping you'd pray good and loud so people would know how religious we are.”

Maxine could not keep the smile off her face. “You're awful. I'm going to tell your parents on you. I'm positive that they don't know how badly you behave.”

“Oh, I'm afraid they do.”

Luke began to eat the fish while Maxine bowed her head.

“You know my parents?” Luke asked when she was done.

“I met your dad once at a meeting. As a matter of fact, you look a lot like him.”

“I'm much better looking than he is! Everybody says that, and I'm sure you'll agree.”

“No you're not. Your father is one of the most handsome men I've ever seen.”

“Well, I used to be better looking than him before I got all beat up in the war.”

“Speaking of the war, can I interview you while we eat?”

“That depends. This interview may not go the way you imagined it would.”

“What do you mean?” She was picking at the lettuce, eating one small bite at a time.

“If I'm honest with you, you're not going to like my comments.”

“Suppose we just do it and then you let
me
decide whether or not I like it.”

“All right. Fire away with your questions.”

“You were risking your life in Spain. Do you think it was a waste of time?”

“That's coming right down to it. No, I don't think it was a waste of time.”

“But the Republicans lost the war.”

“They wouldn't have if we'd had more help from our government.”

“What do you think our government could have done?” Maxine asked. “We're not at war with anyone. We couldn't have sent our troops over officially.”

“Germany did. Who do you think I was fighting over there? The Condor Legion was made up of Nazis, pure and simple.”

“That's different.”

“Sure is,” Luke said. He poured pepper sauce all over the collards and put a forkful in his mouth. “You ever wonder why collards taste so much better than other greens?”

“I guess I thought they all tasted pretty similar.”

“Oh no. Not at all. They all have a different taste. Now, collards are—”

“I'm not interested in collards. I'm interested in your thoughts about the war in Europe.”

“What war?” Luke asked innocently.

“What war! You know what I'm talking about.”

“I thought it was over. I've been home a week and you're the first person I've heard mention it. Although there was an article in
Life
magazine, I believe, about some shooting going on over there by some fellow called Hitler, but it doesn't seem to have disturbed anybody all that much.”

“You're pretty cynical about our country, then.”

“I heard a song on the radio this morning. It was about three little fish in a pool, and it says, ‘They swam and they swam all over the dam.' Kind of gets your ear, doesn't it?”

Maxine stared at him with a pained expression. “I'm afraid you're right, Luke. Actually, I was hoping this interview might help wake some people up.”

Luke was surprised. He had assumed she just wanted a fluff story. “If you really mean that, we can get down to business, but it'll ruffle some feathers.”

“Ruffle away. Tell me about the atrocities the Germans committed over in Spain.”

He couldn't speak for a moment as he remembered the charred remains of the family he had come to think of as his own.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “That wasn't right of me to speak of it so lightly. I know you saw some terrible things when you were in Spain.”

Luke pushed the fish around with his fork. “I'll tell it just like it was and you can put it in your paper, but it won't do any good.”

“It might.”

“The only thing that would wake America up would be bombs falling on their own houses,” Luke said flatly. He took a deep breath. “All right. Go ahead and ask anything you like.”

Maxine began to fire questions at him, and Luke answered her, his face set in angular planes and his eyes angry.

****

The next evening the Winslow clan gathered at Peter and Jolie's home, and as Luke looked around the huge dining table, he thought about how odd it was that these three branches of the Winslow family had all settled in the same area.

Luke's cousin Patrick pushed his plate away and said, “That was a delicious meal, Luana.”

“Why thank you, Patrick,” she said as she gathered an armload of dirty plates. “I's glad you liked it.”

Patrick and his wife, Seana, were seated across from Luke. Patrick was the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Liberty, and his three children—twins Chad and Casey, along with Keir—had been corralled and brought to the dinner. They were all watching him with obvious admiration.

Wesley Winslow and his wife, Leah, had brought their three children as well—Clive and Brandon, fifteen-year-old twins, and Leslie, a year younger. Although Patrick and Wesley were distant cousins, their families were so similar that the two men felt almost like brothers. Their twins were just a year apart in age, and among the six kids, there was only a two-year age spread.

Throughout the meal, the kids had kept Luke busy telling war stories. He had softened them enough to make them acceptable to the family, especially during a meal, and finally Chad Winslow, son of the Baptist preacher, said, “Luke, when you shot down all those planes, did all the men die?”

“No. Some of them parachuted out.”

“How many did you kill?”

“I didn't keep count, Chad. As a matter of fact, you don't think about the men so much. You just think about their plane. Just getting it out of the air.” Even as Luke spoke, he knew this was not true. The battle between himself and Erich Ritter had certainly been man against man, not machine against machine.

Leslie, blond with green eyes and pretty enough to be on a magazine cover, said, “Maybe sometime you could come to the high school and we could have an assembly, Luke.”

“I don't think that would be the best idea.”

“I think it would be a great idea,” Wesley said, “and I'd like to photograph it.” Wesley Winslow, at the age of thirty-five, did not have the good looks of most of the Winslow breed. He was more of a plain-looking individual.

“What for?”

“Why, I might be able to get Luke's story in some of the big city papers.”

“That'd be a good idea,” Leah said. Looking at her, one knew where all three of the children had got their golden blond hair and emerald green eyes.

“That's not a bad idea,” Patrick said. He was a big man, getting a little heavy now, who had played fullback during his college years at the University of Arkansas.

“I think that's a good idea,” Luke's brother said. “It'll be good for you to get your story out.” Timothy's family had not come. Mary and the kids were visiting Mary's sister in Hot Springs. Tim had already talked to Luke once about coming to work at the factory and had been put off in a rather gentle fashion.

“I'm not sure anybody wants to hear my story, Tim,” Luke said.

“Why, of course they do!” Tim said with surprise. “It's big-time news.”

“I think Tim's right,” Peter put in. “Why don't you do it, Luke?”

He shrugged. “I'll be glad to go, but I can't guarantee the results.”

All of the young people were excited about the prospect of their famous relative speaking at their school.

“I'll go talk to Mr. Franks at school tomorrow,” Leslie offered.

“Who's he?” Luke asked.

“Donald Franks—he's the principal.”

“Okay, Leslie. You set it up and I'll come.”

After the meal Patrick's wife, Seana, who had said little, pulled Luke off to one side. “Why don't you want to go, Luke?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“The reason I don't want to go is because of those young men I'll be talking to. They're so young, but by the time they
get out of high school, maybe even before, I'm afraid young men like that will be dying all over Europe and maybe even elsewhere in the world.”

“You can't know that, Luke.”

“See? You're related to me and you don't believe me. Why should they? They're interested in three little fishies in a little pond and
Gone With the Wind.
”

****

By the time Luke had spoken for five minutes with the principal of Liberty High School, Luke knew his initial instinct was correct. His stories about the war in Spain would not be appreciated.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't dwell too much on your . . . uh . . . service in Spain,” Donald Franks was saying.

“Why is that, sir?”

“Oh, we don't want to get the students upset.”