Beyond the Shadow of War (15 page)

Lara leaned back in her chair and folded her arms with a huge smile fixed on her face. “Honestly, Danny, I could sit here and grin at you all day long. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you’re home and all in one piece.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I appreciate that. Too bad not everyone feels that way.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

He told her about his brief conversation with Mrs. Smithson and his rebuke to her comments about the war.

“You
said
that?” Her eyes widened with her smile. “You said goodbye to her in German?”

“Yes, ma’am I did. I know a few other German words I could have added, but decided I better leave before I said something worse.”

“That old battle-ax. I’ve had a few similar conversations with her until I realized she’s too stubborn and bull-headed and not worth wasting my energy on. I’m so sorry you had to hear all that, but I hope you know how proud of you all the rest of us are. I guess you noticed we’re all flying our flags for you and all the other American boys who fought for us.”

“I saw that. Mom wrote when I first got to England to tell me about all the flags up and down the street. Sure helped knowing folks back here were thinking of me. And by the way, thanks for your letters. Mail call was a big, big deal on base, and I sure loved hearing my name called when I had a letter.”

“It was my pleasure, Danny. So your mother mentioned you’re planning to finish college. Is that right?”

“That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Of course, who knows what will happen in the next couple of months. I’m still on leave with orders to report for duty on the eighteenth of August at Sioux Falls, South Dakota. For all I know, they could send us to the Pacific to help fight that war. So I can’t register for classes yet, but hopefully our guys will take care of the Japs, and we can all get on with our lives.”

“Oh Danny, I hadn’t even thought about them sending you to the Pacific. I’m going to pray that doesn’t happen. Can’t imagine having to see you off again.”

“No kidding. But I’ve still got to think ahead, especially now that I’m married. And with the promises they’re making about the GI Bill giving us a free ride to college, I’d be a fool not to finish school now.”

“Sounds like a good plan. Have you thought about what you’ll study?”

“I want to teach history like you. I’ve told you before that you were my favorite teacher.”

She grinned again. “Yes, but I never get tired of hearing it!”

“Well, it’s true. And I want to make history come alive like you always did in class. I still remember all those historical characters you played; showing up in costume and staying in character through the entire class time. It made such a powerful impression on me, and I think it’s why I have such a passion for history.”

“I still love surprising my students like that. But I should probably let you in on a little secret.”

“What’s that?”

“The idea wasn’t original. I stole it from
my
favorite teacher, Mr. Stonewall. Isn’t that a great name for a history professor? The first time he walked into class dressed as Benjamin Franklin, we all laughed. But he never broke character, and taught us things about Franklin that I still remember to this day. He would show up in character once a week, though we never knew when. Which meant we never wanted to skip class for fear of missing out, of course. Genius. The man was pure genius. And that’s when I caught the passion. That’s when I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to teach American history and pass along that same passion to my students just like Professor Stonewall.”

“Apparently, his legacy lives on, doesn’t it? So tell me. Where do you think I should go? I’m thinking of Northwestern’s Chicago campus. Isn’t that where you went?”

They’d been talking for another half hour when the telephone rang. Lara excused herself and stepped into the hall to answer it.

“What?! Really?” she cried. “Danny, it’s your mother. She says they’re heading to the hospital. Millie’s in labor!”

16

13 July 1945 

Chicago, Illinois 

Dear Anya,

Happy news from America! Millie gave birth to a beautiful baby boy last night! She was in labor almost ten hours, but delivered the little guy just before midnight. He weighed in at eight pounds and two ounces, and has a thick head of hair the same auburn shade as Millie’s. He’s the cutest little thing you ever saw. Joey got to hold him for a couple of minutes before he was whisked off to the nursery, and you’ve never seen such a proud dad. He got all choked up when the nurse placed him in his arms, and naturally, the rest of us got a little misty-eyed as well.

They named him Joseph James McClain, and they plan to call him Jimmy after Joey’s best friend on the USS Oklahoma.
Jimmy Linden didn’t survive the attack on Pearl, and Joey wanted to honor his memory. Millie and Jimmy will stay in the hospital for the rest of the week.

When I got up this morning, I heard Dad working down in the basement, so I grabbed a cup of coffee and went downstairs. He was startled to see me, but glad I wasn’t Joey since he was putting the final touches on a cradle he’d made for the baby. It’s so beautiful, Anya, and something I never expected from Dad. We talked for a while as he worked, then he finally pulled up a stool and took a break. We haven’t had a chance to talk one-on-one since I’ve been back. Or, should I say, he hasn’t made himself available to me that way. He’s still such an odd duck, and chances are I’ll never really understand him or how his mind works. But as we talked, I realized it was the first time I ever felt like he respected me as a man, not just his son. That may not make much sense to you, but it meant the world to me. He asked a lot of questions about the day-to-day routine while I was stationed in Framlingham, and what it was like to fly a B-17 above enemy territory.

I guess we’d been talking about half an hour or so when it occurred to me to ask him about his service in World War I. At first, he locked his jaw and shook his head. “Nothing to talk about,” he said. But I pressed him on it. It took him a while, but then he told me.

He said he hated his father. Would have done anything to leave home. And when Woodrow Wilson got America in the First World War, he saw his chance. He enlisted the next day. He said the only friend he ever had was a kid in his unit from Idaho; a wiry little guy they nicknamed Spider. Dad felt like it was his job to keep Spider’s back, look after him. Next thing he knew, he was in a mud-soaked trench in France begging God to keep Spider alive … Dad’s hands were holding the kid’s intestines together; waiting for a medic who never came.

He swallowed hard, and it was a long time before he could speak again. When he did, he looked me in the eye and said there’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t think of Spider and the day he let him down. I started to say something, and he stopped me. Said I was never to speak of it again.

Anya, I know you understand more than I do how something like that changes a person. It explains so much to me, after all these years, to piece together why he’s always been so gruff and moody, never had any friends, never let anyone get close to him. Sure made me look at him in a different light.

Not sure if I should have shared that with you, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Enough of all that for now.

I was actually visiting Mrs. Zankowski when we got the call about Millie going into labor. Before the call, we had a good talk, and she gave me some valuable information regarding my return to school. If it’s all right with you, I’m going to proceed with enrolling at the Northwestern Campus here in Chicago. The way I see it, if the U.S. is willing to foot the tab for me to finish school through the GI Bill, I’d be ridiculously stupid not to take advantage of it. Especially since I can live at home and help out at the theater from time to time. I figured I’d at least get started, then once you come, we can sit down and discuss a plan.

Don’t mind me … I guess I’m a little carried away right now, thinking about our future. Seeing little Jimmy melted something inside me, and I’m missing you so much. To think that one day you and I might have a baby of our own … wow.

I’m sure you’ll be delighted to hear (ha ha) that the Cubs are having a great season so far! We’re 43 wins, 29 losses, with one tie game
‌—‌
best record we’ve had in years. I keep thinking this could be the year we go all the way. One more reason to get you home soon so you can go to Wrigley with me and cheer for our Cubs!

I sure hope to hear from you soon. I’m so hungry for news from Framlingham. Has my buddy Cosmos been by the pub again? Oh! That reminds me
‌—‌
I can’t wait to try some of those dishes you and Sophie have been cooking up. Mom will be thrilled to have some help in the kitchen!

All for now. Write soon.

Love,

Danny

1 August 1945 

“There’s a sight you don’t see every day!” Danny hollered after rounding the corner onto his street late on Wednesday afternoon. Coming toward him on the sidewalk, Millie walked beside Joey, who was pushing Jimmy in the stroller. Leading the procession was Sophie, leashed to the stroller’s front rail.

Danny chuckled. “Will you look at that strut? She must think she’s the grand marshal of the St. Patrick’s parade. Don’t you, Sophie girl?”

At the sound of her name, Sophie finally noticed him ahead and bolted in his direction with a round of excited barks.

“Hold on there, girl!” Joey shouted, his hands firmly on the stroller’s handle. The halt stopped the beagle in her tracks with a yelp. “You know better than that, Sophie.”

As Danny joined them, he knelt beside her, scratching behind her ears as her tail wagged like a wild metronome. “That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have called to her.” He leaned in for a peek at Jimmy. “I’m telling you, that little guy could sleep through the roar of a B-17 taking off. How does he do that?”

“Gets it from his grandfather,” Millie said with a laugh. “Which may be why he gets along so well with Frank.”

“You’re probably right about that. First time I saw Dad doze off while Jimmy slept in his arms, I couldn’t believe it. I had no idea the old man had a soft spot like that.”

Just then, Jimmy stretched with a yawn, his tiny pink lips in motion as his eyes fluttered open.

“Well, hi there, little buddy,” Danny said, gently tickling his tummy. Jimmy smiled with a coo.

“He sure loves his Uncle Danny,” Millie said. “Have you noticed how he lights up whenever‌—‌”

A ferocious bark snapped their attention as a beast of a dog barreled toward them from across the street. Millie snatched Jimmy out of the carrier just as Sophie tore across the street in a flurry of angry barking; the carrier dangling and bouncing along behind her. Danny raced to grab her leash, shouting for her to stop … just as the squeal of brakes obliterated all other sounds.

The car came to a stop after it slammed into both dogs with a sickening thud. Their injured cries rose in a harrowing disharmony, jolting Danny’s heart. He rushed to Sophie’s side, falling to his knees.

“SOPHIE! Oh no, no, no! Sophie girl, I’m here, I’m right here. I’ve got you, girl.”

Her wails turned sorrowful as Danny examined her, searching her body for injury. As he felt down her back and around her hip, she yowled an octave higher and twice as loud.

Mrs. Smithson opened her car door and stepped out. “Oh my stars, oh my goodness! What happened? I never saw them! Are they dead?”

Danny looked up, only then realizing his eyes were filling with tears. He made no effort to respond, turning his attention back to Sophie.

Joey took a knee beside him. “Where’s she hurt? Can you tell?”

“It’s her lower back or hip, or maybe it’s her spine. I can’t tell, but we’ve got to get her to the vet.”

“I’ll get the car.” Joey dashed off and took the porch steps two at a time, passing his parents as they hurried out.

“What’s happened?” Betty cried, following Frank down the sidewalk. “Oh, honey, it’s Sophie‌—‌”

“Danny, what happened?” his father yelled. “Is she hurt?”

“Oh dear,” the elderly woman said as she rounded them to check on the other dog. “I don’t think this one’s going to make it.”

They looked over at the huge dog and saw blood pooling below its head. His enormous paws quivered as his body shuddered once, twice, then a third time before it stilled.

“Whose dog is that?” Mrs. Smithson asked.

“What does it matter?” Frank cried. “You get behind the wheel of that old tank and can’t even see over the steering wheel! How many dogs have to get killed before they take your keys away, Edna? I guess you won’t be satisfied until you run down someone’s kid, will you?”

She blanched. “Why, Frank McClain, that’s a terrible thing to say‌—‌”

“Just leave, will you? Frank growled. “Betty, go get a blanket and tell Joey to hurry with the car!”

She started to take off just as Joey pulled the car up beside them. Danny gently draped the blanket around Sophie and lifted her onto the backseat of his dad’s car, heartsick with each cry and whimper as they rushed to the veterinarian’s office.

Danny refused to leave the vet’s office, though there wasn’t anything for him to do but wait. His father took Joey to the theater then came back to wait with him. After a preliminary examination and x-rays, Dr. Lister told them Sophie had suffered a broken hip, but fortunately had sustained no internal injuries. Surgery would be required. As he explained what needed to be done, Danny clenched his jaw knowing there was no way Frank McClain would ever consent to surgery for a pet.

“I’ll pay for it, Dad.”

“What?”

“I’ll pay for the surgery.”

His dad searched his eyes, though Danny couldn’t discern what he might be thinking. He grew uncomfortable with the awkward silence but kept his eyes fixed on his father’s.

“I’ll let you two talk it over,” the vet said, heading down the hall. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need a decision one way or the other. Soon.”

“Dad, I have the money. I’ve still got—‌”

Frank took a seat in the waiting area. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? You know how much Sophie means to me! I’m not about to let you just take her out back and shoot her like some injured racehorse.”

“Son, take a seat.”

“No, Dad. It’s not up for discussion, so you might as well‌—‌”

“Danny. Sit. Down.” Frank closed his eyes.

He obliged, dropping into a chair across from his father, bewildered that he could fly bombers all over Europe and jump out with nothing but a silk parachute strapped to his back, yet come home and feel like a ten-year-old kid again when his father ordered him to sit. The thought irritated him, but he shoved it aside to make his case.

“Here’s the thing,” he began. “After all we’ve‌—‌”

“I said it’s ridiculous because I don’t want you to spend money you and Anya will need. I’ll pay for Sophie’s surgery.”

Danny blinked. “What?”

The vet returned. “Well, gentlemen, what’s your decision?”

“You fix what needs fixing, Doc,” Frank said. “Whatever it takes.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” The vet gave him a thumbs-up and turned to go.

Stunned, Danny looked at his father. “Dad?”