Keeping Score (7 page)

What had gone wrong? Were there more Giants fans who had said prayers than Dodgers fans?

Then Mom called from the kitchen, "Turn off that radio, Margaret Olivia. It's giving me a headache."

Mom didn't use Maggie's full name very often. Only when she was angry.
She's not mad at me,
Maggie thought.
It's the game. She's upset about it, too.

Maggie found that her legs were shaky when she stood and crossed the room. So was her hand as she reached to turn off the Philco. It was strange that she didn't feel like crying herself. In her brain she knew that the Dodgers had lost, but somehow the news hadn't reached her heart yet. Inside she was just ... empty.

Suddenly, she had to get out of the house. She knew exactly what to do: She had to go to the fire-house and hug Charley. And then maybe take him for a walk.

"I'll be back soon," she mumbled to her mother.

Mom nodded, then said, "There's an end from the bologna." Maggie looked at her gratefully and took the scrap of meat from the Frigidaire.

The street was ominously quiet; all the radios had been turned off. Maggie didn't stop at any of the shops to say hello.
If anyone looks at me, I probably
will
start crying.

Charky met her half a block from the firehouse. As always he was tongue-and-tail delighted to see her. Maggie knelt on the sidewalk to give him the bologna. He snapped down the treat while she hugged him fiercely. Then he pranced by her side as she walked on. "You'd be even happier if the Dodgers had won, wouldn't you, boy?" she murmured. "Wait till next year, Charks."

As Maggie neared the firehouse, she could see George and Vince and Terry sitting in front of the bay doors. Jim wasn't there. Maggie was ashamed of the relief she felt, but she didn't think she could face a
Giants fan right now. Not even one who was as good a friend as Jim.

"Hey, Maggie-o," George said, but without his usual cheer. The other two greeted her as well, both solemn.

"Hi," she said. And couldn't think of one more word to say.

She went inside the bay doors to fetch Charky's leash.

"Helluva thing," she heard George say. "Just when you thought the day couldn't get any worse."

"Hey," Terry said. "Don't talk like that. It don't mean nothin' yet. We don't even know—heck, he might not get anywhere near the fighting."

What were they talking about? Maggie came out with the leash in her hand. Charky bounded around her. "Down, Charks," she said absently. "George?"

George cleared his throat and looked down at the ground.

"Might as well tell her," Terry said. "She's gonna find out soon enough. Besides, he'd probably want her to know."

He? Who—Jim? Find out what?

George raised his head. "Yeah, Maggie-o, it's Jim. He left right after the game." He paused. Maggie waited in silence, but she was starting to feel itchy.

"He's somethin, our Jim," George went on at last. "The game ends, right? And he asks if he can leave his shift a little early, so he can go celebrate with—with his
Giants
friends." George said the word "Giants" like it tasted bad. "Then he takes this envelope out of his
pocket and sorta waves it at us. 'Gotta get in some good times pretty quick,' he says."

George shook his head. "Helluva thing," he said again.

Terry spoke up. "It was his call-up notice."

"His what?" Maggie asked.

"Army," George said. "Jim's been drafted. He's going to Korea. To the war"

"You're gonna write to him, aren't you?" Treecie asked.

They were in Mr. Aldo's shop on an errand for Maggie's mom.

Maggie picked out a can of baked beans. "Of course" she said. "As soon as he leaves. Next week sometime."

Before Christmas, Jim had been to basic training camp for several weeks. He was home now for a quick visit; he would be shipping out to Korea very soon.

January—a bad time of year now made even worse, Maggie thought. Whenever baseball season ended, the six months without games felt like a long straight road stretching to a pinpoint on the horizon and beyond it—a road that would never end. November and December weren't too bad; there were all the holidays plus Maggie's and Treecie's birthdays. But New Year's Day was followed by three and a half torturous months: short gray days, cold dull weather, and no baseball. How would she ever get through it?

"Keep busy" was what Mom would say.

Maggie snapped her fingers. "You know what I could do? I could write to him and mail it even before he leaves, and that way it'll get there right when he does and it'll be a big surprise!"

"But where will you send it?"

Maggie hadn't thought of that. How did soldiers get their mail? "I'll ask my dad," she said.

Sure enough, Dad knew what to do: He called Jim's sister in New Jersey to get the address. Dad kept in touch with most of "his boys"—the guys he had hired to be new firemen—but not usually with their families; Maggie was surprised that he knew Jim's sister.

When she asked Dad about it, he said, "She's the only folks he's got left." Maggie knew that, and she thought she understood what Dad meant by saying it: that he was keeping an extra-close eye on Jim. Probably even more so because Jim worked at Dad's old firehouse.

The address was a ship that would leave from Seattle in Washington State. She had never sent a letter to a ship before. And Seattle seemed so far away; it was hard to imagine that Jim would be crossing the whole country and then crossing a whole ocean as well.

January 6, 1952

Dear Jim,

You want to know something funny?
I'm writing this letter at the firehouse
and you're sitting right next to me! You're
reading the paper and I think you think
I'm doing my homework....

Maggie didn't have much to write about since he hadn't even left yet, so she thanked him again for the present he had given her for her birthday: a photograph of Willie Mays. At the bottom was a caption: "Willie Mays, the 'Say-Hey' Kid," and underneath that, "N.L. Rookie of the Year—1951." Jim had explained that when Willie couldn't remember someone's name, he always called out, "Say hey," and that was how he got his nickname.

The photo was taped to the wall above her bed now, and Willie smiled at her every night before she turned out the light.

The firehouse guys had a little goodbye party for Jim. A tray of cold cuts and rolls, and bottles of soda, and folks from the neighborhood stopping in at the end of the day. Maggie and Treecie handed out sodas and napkins; Maggie fed Charky bits from the tray.

As people left, they shook Jim's hand.

"Give those Commies what-for, Jim."

"You show them reds who's boss."

"They're nothin' but yella cowards, Jim. Make 'em run."

Maggie stayed until the end with Dad and helped clean up. Finally, Jim said it was time for him to go. He had to be up early the next day to catch a train.

He shook hands with George and Vince and Terry.

"They won't know what hit 'em," George declared. "Nobody makes a better soldier than a smoke-eater, and that's a fact. You're gonna do us proud, Jim."

Dad shook Jim's hand and gave him a bear hug and a clap on the back.

Maggie wondered what she should do—shake his hand? Or hug him? Sometimes George gave her a hug, but that was different; she had known him since she was a baby. She didn't have to decide right away, because the next thing Jim did was drop to one knee.

"Hey Charks! C'mere, Charky-boy."

Somehow Charky knew it was a solemn moment, for he walked over instead of bounding, the way he usually did. He nosed Jim's hand, then licked it.

Jim rubbed the dog's neck with both hands. "Charky," he said, "see Maggie there?"

Charky knew her name. He looked at her and pranced in place a little but stayed where he was.

"You gotta keep her company now. When she's scoring a game, or goes for a walk. I'm countin' on you. Okay? Okay, boy?"

The dog barked twice in response. Everyone laughed, and Maggie knelt down to pet Charky, too. "Good boy," she said.

Jim reached over and ruffled her hair. "You take care, Maggie-o."

"You too, Jim."

"Keep them scorebooks up to date."

"I will," she promised.

Then Jim stood and saluted them all. He turned the salute into a little wave as he went out the door.

Charky barked again and ran to the door. Maggie followed him. Together they stood on the pavement and watched Jim walk down the street.

Maggie leaned her leg into the dog's warm fur. "He'll be back soon, Charks," she murmured. "And you know what? We'll have an even bigger party for him then."

With balloons. And me and Treece can make a big banner that says "Welcome home!" And maybe Mom will help me bake a cake....

Jim wasn't even out of sight yet, and already she couldn't wait for him to come home.

One morning a couple of weeks after Maggie sent her letter, Treecie was waiting for her on their usual corner, where they met to walk to school together. Maggie started to run, waving an envelope in the air.

"Treece! He wrote back!"

January 14, 1952

Dear Maggie-o,

I'm writing this on the boat. I am VERY seasick. I can't hardly hold the pen, but I wanted to let you know that I got your letter and thanks for writing. It was a nice surprise to get a letter so soon after leaving home, I'm the only guy in our berth who got one already.

Will write again when I'm feeling better. Sorry.

Your friend Jim

Treecie laughed. "Kinda short," she said.

"Yeah, but at least he wrote," Maggie said. She put the letter back in the envelope as they walked on.

"We should bake cookies and send them to him," Treecie said. "My mom told me about it once, it's called a CARE package. I forget what the letters stand for, but when you send food to army guys, that's a CARE package." During World War II, Treecie's mom had helped look after injured soldiers.

"That's a good name for it."

January 24, 1952

Dear Jim,

I was so sorry to hear that you were sick on the boat! I really really hope you're feeling better now.

I didn't even know where Korea was but I looked it up in the atlas at school. Wow, it's really far away, almost exactly on the opposite side of the world from Brooklyn.

Treecie and me made cookies for you, I hope they're not all crumbs by the time you get them....

Maggie wrote to Jim every week, sometimes even twice a week.

The new guy started this week. His name is Charlie. He's nice and everything, but I asked Dad and he said that you'll get your old job back when you come home and
they'll find another house for Charlie. George says to tell you, Charlie's great because he's a Dodgers fan!

BIG NEWS, REALLY REALLY BIG! Maybe you heard it already but I wanted to write to you RIGHT AWAY in case you haven't, anyway here it is: WILLIE MAYS IS GOING INTO THE ARMY!!!!!

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!??!'!'!!

He's supposed to leave in May! Maybe he'll be in your battalion! Wouldn't that be AMAZING!??!!

Opening Day! I thought it would NEVER get here! Dodgers opened two days ago and beat the Braves 3–2. Then—and I know this is the part you really want to hear—yesterday the Giants won their opening game against Philly 5–3. I kept score of the last two innings for you and I'll copy it and put it in with this letter....

Jim wrote back every time. First about the ship, an enormous personnel carrier that had taken him and several hundred other soldiers to Japan.

The boat was something else. Wish I knew how big it was or how many people were on it all together, but maybe it's better I don't know. All that steel and everything, I felt like
it oughtta sink right to the bottom. And I was so sick, well anyway, I'm glad that trip is over.

And about the guys who shared the barracks with him.

I have five bunkmates and they're from all over the place. So we got one Giants fan (that's me of course), one Cubs fan, one Indians fan, one Braves fan, one Red Sox fan, and one Cardinals fan. It sure is different from being with Brooklyn fans all the time.

Next time I write to you, it'll be from Korea. We're supposed to ship out tomorrow.

On a Saturday in late April, Maggie was sitting on the stoop waiting for the mailman, Mr. Armstrong. During the week the mail came while she was at school. The first thing she always did when she walked into the house was look on the hall table to see if there was a letter from Jim.

But on Saturdays Mr. Armstrong arrived midmorning, and Maggie waited for him whenever she could.

"Letter from Korea!" he called out as soon as he rounded the corner.

Maggie jumped up and ran to meet him. She knew she still had to wait—the mail was all arranged in bundles, it wouldn't be polite to ask him to find her letter
out of order—but walking alongside him was better than sitting.

"I always put it on top of your stack, when it's from overseas," Mr. Armstrong told her. He deposited a handful of mail through the slot of the house next door and burrowed into his bag again, right there on Mr. Marshall's stoop. "Here you go!"

Maggie grinned. "Thanks, Mr. Armstrong!" Nice of him to not make her wait even one more step. She took the pile of mail with one hand and waved goodbye with the other.

Back in her room, she held the envelope up to the light from the window before she opened it. Then she shook it a little. Yes, there was something inside, not just a letter.

A photograph!

A black-and-white photo. Jim, with his arm around the shoulders of a boy. A Chinese boy who looked about Maggie's age.

Not Chinese, silly. Korean.

We're all set up in camp now, outside a village. I've been assigned to an ambulance company. Tell Teeny Joe they said my fireman training would come in handy here.

As soon as we got here we got ourselves a tent boy. His name is Jae-hyung he's just a little bit older than you I think. He comes in the morning and collects our laundry and takes it home for his mom to do. He shines our boots too, cleans up around our tent,
stuff like that. Anyway the reason I'm telling you about him is because we're teaching him to play baseball. Mostly we just play catch but sometimes there's enough of us for a game.

Jay's learning English too, he catches on real quick. I call him "Jay-Hey," because it reminds me of Willie, the Say-Hey kid. I'm sending you a picture of me and Jay-Hey in front of our tent....