Authors: Leon Uris
He turned and paced the floor. “I like a boy who plays the game with everything he has for every minute because he can’t play any other way. I’m not going to pressure you, Danny, but I hate to see you throw away that career you want so badly. Think it over and let me know.”
“Yes, sir.” Danny arose and zipped his jacket.
“And, Danny…of course I’ll never tell Virgil. But if he knew I’m sure he’d say: Georgia Tech.”
The train halted in the Philadelphia Thirtieth Street Station.
“Take care of yourself.”
“Write to me.”
“Don’t worry honey, I’ll be O.K.”
“Get a Jap for me.”
“Good-by, Connie darling.”
“Susan…Susan…”
“Philadelphia contingent in cars two and three!”
Virgil Tucker poked his head in the doorway. “Hey Danny, come on, we’re waiting—oh, excuse me. I didn’t know you were here, Coach.”
Danny thrust his hands in his pockets as he stepped out into the cutting, darkening air. Virgil Tucker placed an arm about his shoulder and they walked toward the car. They looked for a moment across the street where Baltimore City College stood on a knoll like a gray impregnable fortress, glowering proudly down on them.
“I was just thinking,” Virgil said.
“What?”
“You didn’t miss that block in the last quarter. If I had stayed along the sidelines, outside you, instead of cutting back into the middle of the field…”
“What’s the difference? Old Lawrence would have pulled something out of the bag. City would have scored again.”
“Too bad we don’t have a coach like Lawrence…well, maybe Poly can whip them next week.”
Kathleen Walker, Sally Davis and Bud, Danny’s eight-year-old brother, awaited them, by the car.
“Danny, Danny,” cried Bud. “Nice game, Danny.”
Virgil shrugged. “Your Dad went home with my folks and left him. He wanted to see you.” Virgil handed him the keys.
“You drive,” Danny said, smiling at Kathy.
“Naw, you drive,” Virgil insisted. “It’s your old man’s car.”
Virg and Sally snuggled into a corner of the rear seat and promptly ordered Bud up in front.
“Aw girls,” Bud snorted. “Virg has a girl, Virg has a girl.”
“Sit down and be quiet, shrimp.” The car whisked away toward the 29th Street bridge.
“I wish I was old enough to go to Forest Park…I’ll show those City bums.”
“Tell him to pipe down, Danny.”
“Shut up, Bud. City boys are nice guys.”
“Are not either.” He bounced down in the seat and looked stormily out of the window. They swung past the Museum of Art. “Dad says he looks like he’s sitting on a pot.” The youngster pointed to Rodin’s “The Thinker” on the lawn.
“Bud!” And the tone of his brother’s voice finally quieted him.
They drove over the railroad bridge, the slim shining pencils of rails running far below. He had lived near here once and in the summer he’d walk the concrete ridgeguard on a dare. And with his gang, they played “bombardier,” dropping their flavored, ground ice “snowballs” over the side, far down onto the passing cars and trains.
Fringing Druid Hill Park, they cut off at Liberty Heights Avenue towards the Forest Park District.
“Virg is kissing Sally, Virg is kissing Sally….”
“Danny, tell him to be quiet or I’m going to crown him.”
They came to a stop on Fairfax Road before a brick and stone house, exactly like fifty other brick and stone houses on the block. Any trace of individuality had long gone from the middle-class dwellings in Baltimore. They were merely blown-up, more comfortable models of the red brick, marble-stepped domains that ran for mile after mile throughout other districts. Bud was asleep in the back seat. Virgil had been dropped at Sally’s house for dinner.
“What’s the matter, you mad at me?”
“No,” Kathy answered. “Why?”
“You haven’t said a word since I got in the car.”
She looked at his swollen cheek. “Does it hurt badly?”
“Oh that, that’s nothing.”
“I suppose I should be proud and make a lot of noise like Sally does. But I’m afraid you’re going to break your neck some day.”
He smiled teasingly. “Really worries you…I like having you worry about me.”
“Do you feel like going to the dance tonight?”
“The victory ball,” Danny mused. “That sure kills me. We’re always having a victory ball after the City game—only we never win.”
“Why don’t you just come over and we’ll play the radio. You look tired.”
“I thought you were dying to go to the ball. That’s all you’ve been talking about for two weeks.”
“I know, but—”
“Yeah, I’d like to get out of it, but the gang will say we’re stuck up.”
“We’ll leave early then.”
“Swell, meet Virg and Sally at the Malt Palace later.”
He took her hand and looked at his class ring.
“I put tape around it, so it would fit.” He glanced into the back seat and seeing that Bud was fully asleep drew her over to him.
“Not here, Danny. The whole neighborhood will be looking.”
“I don’t care.”
“Don’t be silly.” She pulled away and opened the door. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
After a few dances in the decorated gymnasium, they stole away from the well-wishers and back-slappers. As they drove, her soft golden hair brushed against his cheek and he smelled the fresh sweet scent of perfume. She hummed the tune of the last dance softly.
Two in love,
Can face the world together,
Hearts that cuddle up,
Can muddle through….
He turned the ignition key over and tuned in an all-night music station. The car stood by Druid Lake Reservoir between cars parked every few feet circumferencing the lake. She came into his arms and they kissed and she nestled there, tucking her legs beneath her. He sighed as he kissed her cheek again and again.
“Are you chilly, kitten?”
“No.” She drew away and leaned against the opposite door. “I was just thinking.”
“What? You’ve sure been acting screwy.”
“I don’t know exactly. When I was watching the game, it occurred to me that…well, I don’t know how to say it.”
“What, kitten?”
“It was sort of a crisis for us. We’d be apart…you’ll be going away to college in a few months. It’s been an awful lot of fun.” Her voice trembled.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot too. I guess we’ve got to grow up sometimes.”
“I suppose.”
“I’m going to miss you an awful lot. But we’ll have Christmas Holidays and all summer. I’ll get work here during the summer.”
“You’ve decided, then?”
“I decided that a long time ago. I wanted to go to M.I.T. But they don’t give football scholarships and I’m afraid the bill would be a little too steep for Dad.”
“You do want to go to Georgia Tech?”
“Yes.”
“Have you talked it over with Virg?”
“No. I don’t want to back down on a bargain…but I’ll never get my C.E. at Maryland…not the one I want.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad if you went there. I’ll be going in another year.”
“That’s the trouble. Georgia is so far away from you.”
“I wish you didn’t have to play football.”
“I like football.”
“I don’t. I think I’ll be worried to death the whole time you’re gone.”
“About football?”
“And some other girl stealing you.”
“You’re my girl, Kathy. You’ll see someday why I want to be an engineer so badly. They go everywhere in the world, see everything. Do all kinds of jobs—tunnels, bridges, dams. It’s a real job. A good civil engineer writes his ticket.”
“I know how much you want it.”
“Kathy?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t like leaving you. Try to understand.”
“Yes.” She came back to his arms and he petted her gently.
“I think if another guy ever touched you, I’d kill him.”
“Would you…honestly?”
“Do you suppose it will be the same, kitten? I want you to go out on dates and all.”
“I won’t enjoy them.”
“It will be best. Five years is a long time before we can make any real plans. I’ve…sometimes wished I could say a lot of things to you…and wished we could be serious.”
“It’s really a problem, Danny. I didn’t think people had problems like this.”
“I don’t guess it could be much worse—anything at all. We sure have problems.”
Early morning found the contingent enlarged nearly six-fold. Throughout the night the train had halted restlessly as parting scenes were played out before its steel sides. Dawn in Buffalo. It was freezing as they stepped into the Harvey Restaurant in the monstrous station. A hot breakfast brought him slowly to his senses and for the first time he became eager and anxious to continue the trip. The full sun banished the initial shock and now he was excited about the coming adventure.
“My name is Ted Dwyer and this is Robin Long.”
“Forrester, Danny Forrester, and this guy is L.Q. Jones. Don’t let him scare you.”
“How about you guys pulling over here and let’s have a little card game.”
“Good idea. The trip along Lake Erie is a killer. We won’t hit Chicago till late.”
“Train sure is bulging.”
“Yeah.”
Mile upon mile of monotonous scenery on the never-ending lake shore finally caused the conversation to dwindle and restlessness to set in.
In the lavatory, a blustering character named Shannon O’Hearne had started a crap game. A large and unruly Irishman, he had gotten himself a band of awed followers and along with the crap game a drinking spree soon began. The group made passage to and from the toilet an obstacle course.
The monotony was broken by a further monotony of standing in line for lunch. There were nearly four hundred men aboard now, all wanting to eat simultaneously—except Shannon O’Hearne and his followers, who drank their meal.
At last the train got lost in the maze of rails that ushered it into Chicago. Numbed and weary they debarked, glad of the layover.
Henry Forrester sat in his overstuffed chair, his feet propped on an ottoman. Bud lay on the floor, the Sunday funnies sprawled out before him. The voice of a nervous football broadcaster broke the tranquillity of the room.
And now we take a thirty-second pause for station identification.
“Danny,” Sarah Forrester called from the kitchen. “You’d better drive over and pick up Kathy. Dinner will be ready in a half hour.”
“O.K., Mom, it will be half time in a couple minutes.”
“Bud!”
“What?”
“Start setting the table.”
“Aw, gee whizz, Mom.”
Hello again, football fans. This is Rush Holloway, the old Wheaties reporter here in the nation’s capital where thirty-five thousand pack Griffith Stadium on this beautiful December afternoon to witness the battle between Steven Owen’s New York Giants and the Washington Redskins.
The noise you hear in the background is the public address system paging Admiral Parks. They’ve been paging several top brass during this second period….
Mickey Parks has just replaced Ki Aldrich at center. Incidentally, Mickey is a distant cousin of Admiral Parks. Great favorite with the Redskin fans. Now in his fourth season with the Skins….
We interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast to bring you a news bulletin. Airplanes, identified as Japanese, have attacked the American Naval Base at Pearl Harbor. Stay tuned to this station for…
First and ten on their own forty-yard line.
“Did you hear that, Dad?”
“Er…er, what? I must have been dozing.”
The phone rang. Bud raced to it and then turned the receiver over to Sarah Forrester. “Henry,” she called, “where is Pearl Harbor?”
Henry Forrester rapped softly on his son’s door, then entered. Danny lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. His father sat on the bed’s edge.
About the room hung pennants of Forest Park High and a half dozen college teams. The dresser bore a dozen team photographs and there was a larger one on the wall of the Baltimore Orioles. A baseball autographed by Babe Ruth, Jimmy Foxx and Lefty Grove adorned the center of a small desk.
“Son, won’t you come down to dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Your mother is awfully upset. Cigarette?”
“No thanks.”
“Don’t you suppose we should talk this over?”
“Every time I try to make sense Mom starts bawling.”
Henry Forrester walked slowly to the dresser and studied a trophy atop it. Danny had run the last twenty-five yards of a relay race on a cinder track after losing one of his spikes.
“Maybe we could talk between ourselves. You owe me that much.”
“I don’t understand it myself, Dad.”
“Wilbur Grimes told me yesterday. They’ll take you at Georgia Tech right after February commencement.”
“It just doesn’t seem right. Me going off to college to play football with a war going on.”
“But Danny, you’re only seventeen. They don’t want you. If they need you, they’ll call you.”
“We’ve been over it fifty times already.”
“Yes, and we’ve got to have a showdown. Neither your mother nor I can go on with this daily sulking. And I’m not signing any papers until I know a reason why.”
“Have it your way.”
“I could understand it if you weren’t happy here or if you were a rattle-brained kid. You’ve wanted to be an engineer since you were Bud’s age. You’ve got everything now, a home, friends, I let you drive the car…Mother and I talked it over. We decided that you could go to M.I.T. if that would help change your mind.”
“It isn’t that I’m not happy, Dad.”
“Then why the Marine Corps?”
“Don’t keep asking me.”
“What about Virgil?”
“He wants to go too, Dad…but with his mother so sick.”
The balding man snuffed out his cigarette. “This whole damned thing makes me feel like a miserable failure.”