Message from Nam (20 page)

“I’m happy for them. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She called us right after he was born, naturally, and according to Matt, it was very easy. I’m sure they’d love to see you.” Paxton nodded, but it would be odd seeing the little boy who bore Peter’s name. Paxton knew there would be no babies for her now, and no man. She wanted nothing except to go to Viet Nam and find the truth about the war. It was odd how her life had changed. All the dreams she had once had were gone. Harvard, and then Berkeley, and Peter … now all she wanted was to see what was really happening and tell people in the States, so they would know why their husbands and sons were dying in Viet Nam.

“How soon do I go?” Paxton wanted to pin him down and he knew it. He glanced at his calendar, made some notes, and then he looked up at her.

“These things take a little time. I have to talk to our bureau chief there, and see what we need …”

“I’m not going to wait six months.”

“I know you’re not,” he said quietly. “I was thinking about a week, maybe two, three at most. You’ll need that long to get organized, be briefed, have the shots you’ll need. Let’s say two weeks. Does that sound reasonable to you?” She nodded, amazed she had won. She smiled slowly at him. She’d done it.

“Very reasonable. I thought I’d go home for a few days, to say good-bye to my mother.”

“Do that. I’ll call you there and tell you when we need you back here. You can start the shots there. I know you’ll need quite a few. Your brother can take care of it for you, if he’s willing.” He wondered if her family would try and stop her too, but he knew her well enough to know that now that she’d decided, nothing would stop her. She was a strong girl with a good heart, and he knew better than anyone that part of it was broken. He stood up again then and walked around the desk to her. “It’s been a hard year for all of us, Pax. I just hope you’re not making a terrible mistake.” He held her close to him and kissed the top of her head. “We don’t want to lose you too.”

“You won’t,” she whispered as she clung to him. And oddly, she felt, as she stood there, that she’d be alright, because she had Peter’s blessing.

C
HAPTER
10

P
axton arrived in Savannah on a Friday afternoon, two days after Robert Kennedy had been shot, in time to watch the train cross the country on TV on Saturday, bringing his body home, as people waved from every town, crying for another hope lost, another heartbreak. And this time, no one met Paxton at the airport.

She had called her mother to say she was flying in, but her mother had to go to a tea being given by her bridge club. And Paxton didn’t mind, it gave her a chance to go home alone, and sit in the kitchen and think of Queenie.

Her mother had hired a new girl after she died, and she was black, too, but she was younger and she only worked days, and she was out buying groceries when Paxton arrived, which was a relief in a way. It gave her a chance to be alone in Queenie’s kitchen. It was odd being there without her, and Paxton felt a terrible ache, remembering her last words the last time she’d been home … sometimes if you wait, life don’t give you a chance to do what you want. She’d been right. But Queenie knew that by now. Because if there was a Heaven, surely she was with Peter.

The slam of a door broke into Paxton’s thoughts and she heard rapid footsteps in the front hall. It was the new girl, and she almost screamed when she saw Paxxie.

“I’m sorry. I’m Paxton Andrews. I just got home from California. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The girl looked wild-eyed for a moment and then relaxed. She was about Paxton’s own age, and she had a sweet face, but she was short and heavyset and not very pretty.

“You go to school in California?”

“That’s right.”

“You jus’ graduate?” She said it carefully, like it was something very important.

But Paxton shook her head in answer. “No, I didn’t.” She didn’t tell her that she’d come home to say goodbye to her family before she went to Viet Nam. She had to tell her mother first. She just chatted amiably, and helped the girl carry the groceries into the kitchen. And her mother came home half an hour later.

She looked older to Paxton somehow, and she wasn’t sure why. She looked well, and her hair was freshly done, but her face looked tired and a little more lined than it had the last time Paxton saw her. But she said she was feeling well, and told Paxton she looked thin, and then asked Emmalee to bring them tea and cinnamon toast in the front parlor.

And after the first sip, Beatrice Andrews looked at her pointedly and asked her why she’d come home. She was no fool, and she had sensed that there was a reason for the trip, other than just a friendly visit. She knew that Paxton didn’t like to come home, and if she didn’t have to, she wouldn’t.

“Are you getting married?” she asked, with an odd look. It was a look of disappointment because she knew who the boy would have to be and he wasn’t from the South, and there was also some excitement because her only daughter was about to be a bride, but Paxton only shook her head, sorry to disappoint her.

“No, I’m not. I’m afraid that’s not in the picture.” She sounded calm as she said it, and her mother looked at her strangely, sensing more, but Paxton didn’t want to say it.

“Have you stopped seeing that boy?” Peter had always been “that boy” to her, and the words made Paxton smile now. He had been gone for two months, and the first shock of grief was slowly fading. All that was left was the dull ache of disbelief and the quiet sorrow that she felt as though it would go on forever. But she could function with it, and no one knew how much it hurt, except maybe the Wilsons, and the others who had suffered losses like it. But now that she was going to Viet Nam, for some odd reason, even though the pain was still there, she felt better.

“I … uh …” She groped for the words. “It’s a little hard to explain. It’s not important.” It’s not important, Mom, he’s just dead, that’s all. But she couldn’t imagine her mother sharing her pain, which was why she had never told her. Telling her would just have been too painful.

“Is something wrong?” Beatrice Andrews would not let it lie, and her searching glance was making Paxton squirm, much to her own chagrin. There was no way to avoid her. “What happened?”

“He … uh …” She could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and she concentrated her gaze on the curtains so she didn’t have to see her mother’s face when she told her. “He … went to Viet Nam … and he was killed in Da Nang in April.” There was an endless silence, and Paxton cursed herself as her eyes filled with tears, and then suddenly, next to her, she felt her mother move. She turned in surprise, and she saw the woman who had been a stranger to her all her life, sitting next to her and crying.

“I’m so sorry … I know how you must feel … how terrible …” She put her arms around Paxton, and all of a sudden, Paxton found herself sobbing, with her arms around her mother, she was crying for Peter again, and for the Kennedys and Queenie and Martin Luther King … and even her Daddy … why had they all died? Why were they gone? Why had he flown his plane into the storm? And why hadn’t she married Peter when she could have? She tried to tell her mother what she felt, but all the words came out in a jumble, and her mother rocked her gently back and forth, as she never had before, and Paxton was oddly reminded of Queenie. “Why didn’t you tell me?” They were words of gentle reproach, but the look in her eyes told Paxton that she cared more than she had ever suspected.

“I don’t know. Maybe telling you would have made it more real. I guess I just couldn’t.”

“How terrible for his family.”

“His sister Gabby just had a baby two days ago, and she named him Peter.” But that made Paxton cry all over again, because now she would never have his babies. They sat like that for hours, crying and drinking tea, and crying all over again. She seemed to be crying for everyone and for everything, and making up for a lifetime. And finally, she put her arms around her mother and thanked her. It was the first time they had ever really made contact.

“I know how you feel,” her mother said, much to Paxton’s amazement. “I remember how I felt when your father died … I was confused for a long time … and angry and sad. It’ll take you a long time, Paxton. It may even hurt forever. Not every day, every minute, but when you think of him, there will always be a sad place in your heart for what happened.” She patted her daughter’s hand then. “One day there will be someone else, you’ll have a husband and children, but you’ll still remember him, and you’ll always love him.” Paxton didn’t tell her that she couldn’t imagine another man in her life, or children who were not his, but she knew that her mother was right that she would always love him. And then her mother asked her the question Paxton wished could have come later. “Will you be coming home now in September, dear? There’s not much point now to your staying in California.” They had won after all. She was coming home. Her love affair with “that boy” was over. But Paxton slowly shook her head, and waited, searching for the right words to tell her. Suddenly, she didn’t want to hurt her. Her mother had finally given her something she’d needed for a long time, and she wanted to thank her, not give her grief. But there was no choice now.

“I left school yesterday.” … and the house where I was so happy with Peter.… I left everything … because Robert Kennedy was killed and I can’t stand the insanity of this country a moment longer. So she was going to a place that was even more insane, but at least there, the insanity was out in the open.

“You left school for good?” Her mother looked shocked, because she knew that giving up was so much unlike Paxton.

“I just couldn’t do it anymore. I could stay for the next ten years and I can’t write another paper, take another test. It doesn’t make sense to me anymore. I can’t even remember why I wanted to do it in the first place.”

“But this is your last term.” She looked confused, and she suddenly wondered if Paxton had gone a little crazy. “You could graduate in the fall if you finish now. Paxton, you don’t want to waste everything you’ve done. You’re only inches from the finish.”

Paxton nodded miserably. It was true. Her mother was right. But she just couldn’t do it. “I know. But ever since Peter went away, I haven’t been able to think straight. Ever since he left for basic training in January, I haven’t been able to do a single paper.”

“That’s understandable, of course. Maybe you could finish here. And get a job on the paper. You know how badly they want you.” She was trying to offer encouragement, and Paxton felt sorry for her. She had no idea what was coming.

“Mama …” She reached out and touched her hand, still grateful for her solace over Peter. “I took a job yesterday.” Paxton spoke very softly.

Beatrice Andrews’s face fell. “In San Francisco?”

There was a long pause, as Paxton thought about how to phrase it. “With the
Morning Sun.
But not in San Francisco.”

“Where then?” She couldn’t begin to imagine.

“I’m going to be a correspondent in Saigon.” There was an endless silence in the room, and then suddenly her mother dropped her face into her hands and began to sob, and this time it was Paxton who held her. And then she turned to look at the child she barely knew, as though she were the total stranger she always had been.

“How can you do such a thing? Are you trying to get killed? To commit suicide? I felt that way after your father died too,” she said, blowing her nose daintily in a lace hankie, “but I had you and George to think about. And your future. I know things look bleak to you now, but they won’t in a while, Paxton, you have to be patient.”

“I know, Mama … I know how it looks. But it’s something I have to do now. I can’t just sit here, or there, and wait for life to take its course. I want to be in Viet Nam. I want to understand what happened. I want to stop it from happening. I want to help stop it sooner. I want to make people care. Every night, we sit around watching people get killed while we eat our dinner, and no one cares, no one even flinches. Even if what I do takes ten minutes off the war, then maybe that’s enough. Maybe in those ten minutes five people would have been killed … maybe something I can do will save them.”

“And if you’re killed, Paxton, instead? What if it’s you and not someone else? Have you thought of that?… and what it will do to me? You’re a woman. Good God, you don’t have to go to war. You’re still crazy after that boy died. You have to stay home and heal your wounds. Stay here, don’t go back.” She was begging her, and it was breaking Paxton’s heart, but she knew she had to go. It was her fate now.

“I have to go, Mama. But I promise you, I’ll be careful. I’m not looking to get killed.” She knew that Ed Wilson had thought the same thing, which made her wonder. And there were times when she was tempted to join Peter, times when she drove across the bridge, and thought of stopping the car and jumping. But she hadn’t. And now she knew that there was something she had to do that was a lot more important than escaping.

“Please don’t go … Paxton, I beg you …”