Of Windmills and War (19 page)

“I’d
like that,
Beverly
. I’d like that a lot.”

Standing
on a step above him, she’d suddenly turned around and gave him a quick peck on
the cheek. “Good night, Danny McClain.”

“Good
night, Beverly Grayson.”

Not a
bad first date. Not bad at all.

Now, as he approached her dorm, the sound of her voice snapped him
out of his stroll down memory lane.

“There you are!” She hopped up from the steps of the dorm
where she’d been seated. “I was hoping you didn’t forget me.” She looped her
arm through his.

 “How
could I forget someone like you?” He pulled his arm free and wrapped it over
her shoulder. “Whoa, you smell really good.”

“Yeah?
It’s a new fragrance called
Deception
.” She stretched her neck, inviting
him for another whiff. “Daring, isn’t it?”

He took
the bait and pressed his nose against her perfect neck. “Scandalously daring,
my dear.” He couldn’t stop grinning at her. He honestly couldn’t help it. She
was so pretty, so full of life, and so obviously happy to see him.

Wow.

“I’ve
been
dying
to see this new Bogart movie!”
Beverly
intertwined
her fingers with his as they headed across campus. “It’s supposed to be quite
the mystery.”

“Oh, it
is. Why, just last week Bogie called and told me how they—”

“Sure
he did.” She pinched his arm.

“Ouch!”

“And
last week it was Gary Cooper who dropped by to see you. You forget I called you
out on all that name dropping. Just because you and your dad were movie theater
moguls doesn’t mean you rubbed elbows with all the stars. Except maybe in your
dreams.”

He braced
his grip around the back of her neck and gently squeezed.

“Noooooo!
Danny, stop stop stop! You know I’m ticklish!”

“Yeah?
Guess I forgot or something.”

“Stop,
stop, stop!” She wrangled out of his grasp and ran ahead, wrapping her sweater around
her shoulders as her long plaid skirt billowed in the strong breeze off
Lake
Michigan
.

He held
up his hands. “Okay, okay. Truce. No more tickling. I promise.”

She
walked backward just ahead of him. “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, I
forgot to tell you! I had a postcard from Joey today.”

“No
kidding? What’d he say?”

“He
said his ship just got out of dry dock in
San Francisco
and
they’re headed back to
Pearl Harbor
,
Hawaii
. He
was disappointed he couldn’t make it back to see all of us before they shipped
out, but he didn’t have the money to get home. Dad thinks he’s probably losing
all his money in poker games, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. Mom was
pretty disappointed, though. We haven’t seen him since he enlisted.”

Beverly
resumed her place beside him, taking his hand again as they walked. “I can’t
even imagine how beautiful it must be in
Hawaii
. I’ve
always dreamed of going there some day.”

“Is
that so?”

“Well,
sure it is! I want to travel the whole world. Don’t you?”

“I
don’t know. Guess I never gave it that much thought.”

She looked
at him as if he’d sprouted a third eye. “You can’t be serious. Who
wouldn’t
want
to travel to exotic places? Think about all the amazing sights you’d see—the
Taj Mahal, the Parthenon in Athens, the Eiffel Tower, the London Bridge—”

“Maybe
so, but this isn’t exactly the optimal time to travel the world. Unless, Fräulein,”
he said with a thick German accent, “unless you’d like mein goose-stepping
Nazis to give you a tour?”

“Your
accent needs work, Herr McClain.” She slowed her pace. “Whoa, look at the long
line.”

Danny followed
her gaze across the street where a line of movie-goers had already wrapped
around the corner of the theater. “Gee, I hope they don’t sell out.”

“Then
c’mon. We better hurry!” She started to run, tugging on his arm. He didn’t
budge. She turned. “What are you doing?”

“Oh.
Wait.” He dug in his pocket with great theatrics, finally pulling out two
tickets.

“I knew
there was some reason I let you tag along.” She plucked the tickets out of his
hand and giggled.

He
watched her dance her way to the main doors of the old theater. As she turned
to summon him to catch up, he stared at her . . . the soft waves
in her shiny brown hair, the flirty little smile, the twinkle in her eye . . .
and wondered how on earth he’d ever lived a day before knowing her.

27

November
1941

On the
Sunday evening after Thanksgiving, Danny kicked open the door to his dorm room
and turned on the light.

“Do you
mind?” his roommate growled, peeking out from under his covers.

Danny tossed
his keys on his desk and dropped his duffel bag on the floor. “What are you
doing in bed? And why is this place such a mess?” Remnants of half-eaten food covered
both desks, the floor, and most of Danny’s bed.

“None
of your business,” Craig mumbled, pulling the covers over his head.

Danny yanked
them back. “I thought you were going home. Did you stay on campus over break?”

“So
what if I did?”

“Because
I invited you to come home with me, but you said you had plans of your own.”

“Well,
then. You’ve found me out. I lied. Happy?”

Danny shrugged
and started unpacking his clean laundry. “Suit yourself, Gilmore.”

Craig
sat up in bed. “What is that I smell?”

“You
mean the hamburger you left rotting on the floor or the spoiled milk on your
desk?”

“Neither.
It’s turkey. And if I’m not mistaken, dressing as well.” He closed his eyes and
inhaled deeply. “And I must say, it smells
wonderful.
”

Danny shook
his head at his roommate’s antics. “Mom sent me back with some leftovers.”

Craig
threw back his covers. “So, what are we waiting for?” He pulled on a robe and
rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Well?”

“Fine.
Clear some room off your desk. Honestly, Gilmore, you’re a pig. Look at this place!”

“Is
this the part where I’m supposed to feel bad and rush around, picking up all
the evidence of my pathetic lonely weekend?”

Danny pulled
a metal lunch box from the top of his duffel. “I could only hope.”

“Look, McClain.
Not everyone has the happy little home life you do. Some of us dread the very
idea of going home.”

“Yet
you’re too proud to accept an invitation to come home with your roommate.” He
pulled the wax paper wrapping off a sandwich piled thick with slices of fresh
turkey. “Here, help yourself.”

“No, I
can’t take your sandwich.”

“Take
it before I change my mind. Besides, I’m not that hungry.”

“In
that case . . .” Craig grabbed the sandwich with both hands and
took a mammoth bite out of it. He closed his eyes in obvious bliss. “Oh,
this . . . this is—”

“Fantastic.
I know. Just save your comments and don’t talk with your mouth full. Here’s
some dressing. You like cranberry sauce?”

Gilmore
nodded emphatically, motioning for his roommate to hand over the rest of the
food. “Mmm-mmm-mmm.”

“Yeah?
Mom makes a pretty mean pumpkin pie. She sent half a pie with me, so save me
some, will ya?”

Craig
mumbled something over a mouthful of dressing.

“I
think you asked where I was going?”

Gilmore
nodded.

“I’m
headed over to Bev’s. She was supposed to get in about an hour ago. There’d
better be some pie left when I get back.” He shot a scowl over his shoulder which
his roommate waved off as he forked another bite of cranberry sauce.

As
Danny descended the steps of his dormitory, he climbed back into his coat and
wrapped the wool muffler around his neck. It felt good to be back. As much as
he’d loved seeing his mom, he’d barely tolerated his father’s incessant
lectures about “those idiotic Nazis” and “that maniac Hitler” over the course
of his three-day visit. And what holiday dinner would be complete without a
blistering session about “that irresponsible brother of yours working on his
tan over in
Hawaii
.” As if Joey had nothing better to do than
hang out on the beach. Danny wondered if his dad would ever give Joey credit
for serving his country.

Sophie
had stuck to him like glue, dancing in circles when he first arrived. Her tail
never stopped wagging from the moment he got home until he left on Sunday evening.
If there was any way to sneak her into his dorm room, he would’ve done it. He’d
missed her unconditional love and admiration. But in a strange way, he knew she
kept his mom and dad company.

Chilled
to the bone, he raced up the steps of
Beverly
’s dorm
and into the lobby where he stopped at the front desk to have her paged. A few
minutes later, she stepped off the elevator.

“Hey
Danny.”

He took
in her pasty complexion, messy hair, and the pink bathrobe she was wearing over
flannel pajamas. “You look awful,” he said, meaning it. When he leaned in to
give her a hug, she backed up with her hands raised.

“You
don’t want to come near me. I’m sick as a dog. Must’ve picked up something.”

“Hey,
I’m sorry, Bev. Not a good weekend?”

She
blew her bangs out of her eyes. “I was sick from the minute I got home. I’ve
just now stopped throwing up. I wanted to say hi, but I’ve gotta get back in bed.
You don’t want my germs. Trust me. I’m just hoping I feel better tomorrow so I
don’t miss classes.”

“Poor
baby . . . I’m so sorry. Go get some rest. I’ll check in on you
after I get out of English tomorrow, okay?”

It would
be two more weeks before
Beverly
completely recovered. She
spent most of that time in the campus infirmary, but she wasn’t alone. Twelve
of her floor mates shared the same nasty flu bug. Danny was glad she’d spared
him the germs, but he missed her, unable to visit her quarantined wing of the
clinic.

He
stayed busy, going to class, studying and working as many hours as possible at The
Grill. His roommate disappeared for days at a time, insisting he’d met some “heavenly
goddess” who understood his needs. Danny just hoped she could convince him to
make an occasional visit to class before he got kicked out of school.

The first
Sunday in December, on a brisk, beautiful afternoon, Danny had just finished
his shift at The Grill when he noticed a crowd of students gathered around a radio
in the lobby of Scott Hall. He was supposed to meet
Beverly
at the
library to study together, but curiosity got the best of him. He slowly joined
the crowd, pressing in to see what everyone was listening to.

“I
repeat,” the tinny voice on the radio said. “President Roosevelt said in a
statement today that the Japanese have attacked
Pearl Harbor
in
Hawaii
from
the air. The attack was also made on all naval and military activity on the
principle
island
of
Oahu
. We
now take you to
Washington
.”

Danny grabbed
the arm of the guy next to him. “Did he say
Pearl Harbor
?”

“Yeah. The
Japanese attacked
Pearl Harbor
. It sounds bad. Really bad.”

Danny stared
at the guy as the sound of his own heartbeat started pounding in his ears. The
picture postcard of the Hawaiian
island
of
Oahu
flashed through his mind. The same postcard where his brother had scribbled on
the back how nice it was to be back in the islands . . . and
something about the USS
Oklahoma
being docked on Battleship Row.

Danny’s
eyes slowly tracked back toward the radio.

“The
White House is now giving out a statement,” the reporter continued. “The
President’s brief statement was made to Stephen Early, the President’s
secretary. A Japanese attack on
Pearl Harbor
would
naturally mean war. Such an attack would naturally mean a counter-attack.
Hostilities of this kind would naturally mean that the president would ask
Congress for a declaration of war—”

“Danny!”

He
turned at the sound of his name and found Craig running toward him.

“Danny,
your mother’s trying to reach you,” he said, gasping to catch his breath. It
was only then that Danny realized his roommate was wearing his maroon bath robe.
“She called the dorm and they came to our room looking for you. They said she’s
really upset. Did you hear the news?”

“Mom?”

Craig
grabbed him by both arms. “Danny! Did you hear what I said?”

“My
mother called?”

Craig
steered him away from the crowd. “Buddy, you need to snap out of it. Your mom
wants you to call her back. Obviously she’s heard about the attack on
Pearl
Harbor
.
You need to come with me back to the dorm so you can call her.”

Danny ran
a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sorry. I must’ve—”

 “Doesn’t
matter. C’mon.” Craig pulled him by the arm. “I need to get you back there.”

Five
minutes later, he dialed the hall phone to call home. It rang only once before
his mother answered.

“Danny,
is that you?” her voice trembled.

“Mom, I
just heard. Have you heard from Joey?”

“What?
No, not yet. Oh son, I’m so scared. What if—”

“Don’t
say it, Mom. Don’t even think it. Listen, I’m coming home. I’ll be there as
soon as I can. Where’s Dad?”

“He’s
on his way home. He cancelled the showings and locked the theater once he heard
the news. Danny, he couldn’t even talk when I called him.”

“Mom,
take it easy. I’ll be home soon.”

The two-hour
commute from
Evanston
to his home in
Chicago
were
the longest two hours of his life. Over and over the images on that postcard
kept dancing through his mind, and all of them covered in smoke. The chaos, the
panic, the sounds, the smells . . . all of it horrible, beyond
comprehension. He pushed every thought of what Joey might or might not be
experiencing to the deepest corner of his mind, refusing to dwell on it. In the
midst of all the outrageous thoughts bouncing around in his head, he knew with
certainty that his life would forever be changed by this day in history.
Whether it meant he’d be drafted to go fight the inevitable war, or whether his
family would be reduced to just three, nothing would ever be the same.

When he
finally stormed into his house on
Yale Avenue
, his
mother fell into his embrace.

“Oh, Danny.
Thank God you’re home. Thank God!”

He held
her for several moments, feeling her shake in his arms as she wept. Sophie
jumped on him, excited in all the commotion. He scratched her behind the ears,
then turned with his mother, keeping his arm around her as they walked into the
living room. His father, seated next to the radio with his head in his hands,
didn’t even acknowledge his entrance. Danny knew his dad was never one to show
emotion—except for that night in the alley behind the theater. He knew his
father would handle this situation in his own way. As they walked past him,
Danny patted his dad on the back then took a seat beside his mother on the sofa.

“All
afternoon we’ve listened,” his mother began, wiping tears with her
handkerchief. “It’s so frustrating because the radio networks keep going back
to their regular programming. Why would anyone want to hear music or listen to
a football game when our country has been attacked?”

“Because
they’re all idiots, Betty!” his father snapped. “I keep telling you. Those
people have no idea what they’re doing. Bunch of imbeciles, the whole lot of
them.”

She
ignored him, digging something out of her pocket—a postcard from Joey, its
edges frayed. “I keep looking at this picture of this beautiful island.” She turned
it over, holding it out with trembling hands for him to see. “Joey wrote that
the entire Pacific fleet was stationed there in
Hawaii
. When
I got this a couple of days ago, it didn’t even cross my mind how—” She looked
up at him. “Why would they put all their ships in one place? I don’t
understand. Why would they make such an easy target for the Japanese?”

The
same question had bothered Danny all the way home. Wouldn’t such a bold move
arouse suspicion to American’s enemies? Especially the Japanese? Surely the
military strategists had their reasons.

“Because
our president and the so-called military ‘geniuses’ have no idea how to fight a
war,” his father bellowed as he got to his feet. “They play their ridiculous
war games, sending those ships all over kingdom come, but when push comes to
shove, they don’t have a single blasted clue what they’re doing! They might as
well have taken our boys and just handed ‘em over to the Japs on a silver
platter.”

Suddenly
he spun around, put one hand on the fireplace mantel and aimed his cane at
Danny with the other. “If you ever get a lame-brain idea to join up and do like
your brother, then you don’t ever come home. You got that? The day you join the
military is the day I disown you.”

“Frank!
What a horrible thing to say!”