Of Windmills and War (22 page)

30

Spring 1942

With spring in the air, the Northwestern campus came alive
much like the lustrous green ivy crawling up the walls of Deering Library.
Spring fever drew students out for sunny picnics on the Quad and moonlight
strolls along
Lake Michigan
. Even professors couldn’t
resist the warm weather, many holding classes outdoors in the Deering meadow.
Baseball games, track meets, Navy ROTC parades accompanied by the Drum and
Bugle Corps, glee club concerts, stage plays, and interfraternity competitions
all kept students entertained. The 1942 Waa-Mu Show, the annual musical
production always written and produced by Northwestern students, was the most
popular event of the spring semester. This year’s musical, “Wish You Were Here,”
drew record crowds for every performance.

Danny’s roommate once again disappeared for weeks on end,
only stopping by to pick up his mail, do some laundry, or search for a missing
textbook.

“You know, people pay a lot of money to have a dorm room all
to themselves,” Craig quipped one afternoon while digging in his closet. “You
should thank me. Better yet, you should pay me for the privacy I’ve given you
all these months. Ah, there it is,” he said, straightening as he placed a pipe
between his teeth. “I don’t suppose you have any fresh tobacco on you?”

Danny leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “No, my elusive
roommate, I don’t. Haven’t taken up the habit.”

“Oh, but you should! It makes you look dashing and debonair.
Drives the ladies mad with passion.”

“Does it, now. Well, I’m happy to report the only lady I’m
interested in doesn’t care a thing about tobacco.”

“Ah! And how is Lady Grayson? Still just holding hands, are
we?”

Danny threw a tennis ball at Gilmore, smacking him in the
back.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Well then, I’m off again,” he
said, opening the door with the unlit pipe still wedged between his teeth.
“Mustn’t keep the ladies waiting.”

“Ladies? As in plural?”

“Yes, well. The current love of my life and her suite mates
like to share and share alike, shall we say? What’s a casanova to do?”

“A casanova? Gilmore, you bring new meaning to the word.”

“Why, thank you. See you in a few weeks, McClain.”

It was actually a month before their paths crossed again. By
then, Danny was well into finals, already dreading the upcoming summer. He’d
planned to stay home for a couple weeks to help Joey get settled then return
for summer classes. He’d tried to convince
Beverly
to
take some classes so they wouldn’t have to be apart, but that wasn’t to be.

“Danny, I told you before. My family always spends summers
together up at
Squirrel
Lake
. We’ve
been going to our cabin there since I was a little girl. I couldn’t bear to
stay here and miss seeing all our friends and family!”

He’d taken her hand in his as he walked her back to her dorm
one night late in April. “Not even to be with me?”

“Now, don’t put it that way. It’s not that I don’t want to
be with you. I just need a break from school. That’s all. Besides, it’s so
beautiful up there, and we water ski every day and soak up the sun and have
cookouts and bonfires . . . promise me you’ll come up one
weekend?”

“I’ll see if I can work it into my busy schedule.”

“Very funny.” She’d come to a stop, facing him. “Now close
your eyes.”

“What?”

“Just do it! Close your eyes.”

“Fine. My eyes are closed.”

He heard her jostling her books then felt her lift his hand to
place something soft but solid in it.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

He looked down, finding a thick, soft leather book resting
in his hand. Embossed across the front was the word
JOURNAL.

“
Beverly
, this is beautiful.”

“I hoped you’d like it. I thought you might like to write
down your thoughts. You know, like a diary only more grown up.”

He ran his hand over the dark caramel-tinted leather. “I
don’t know what to say.”

“Well, we both know
that’s
a lie. You always have
something to say. And since I won’t be here, I thought this might be the next
best thing.”

He looked up at her. “I love it. Thank you.” He leaned over
to kiss her softly. She kissed him back and he wished all over again that she
didn’t have to go.

When she finally pulled back, she leaned over to whisper in
his ear, “Of course, I’ll expect you to fill it with all your passionate
longings for me while I’m away.”

“Gee, I don’t know. I’ll be so busy here, what with staring
at the walls of my dorm room and all. I don’t know how I’d find the
time . . .”

“Very funny.” She pulled him along the walkway as a group of
sailors passed them by. “Behave yourself or I might ask one of those guys to
come up to the cabin instead of you.”

 “Hey!” He yanked her playfully back toward him and pressed
his forehead against hers. “Look at me. What do you see?”

Her brows drew together, her face suddenly serious in the
moonlight. “Uh, well, I don’t—”

“See me all green with envy.” He smirked and planted a noisy
kiss on her cheek.

“Danny, that’s not funny.” She huffed and took off up the
steps of Willard Hall.

“Goodnight, Grayson.”

“Goodnight, McClain.”

He watched her walk toward the dormitory doors, knowing
she’d turn and wave like she always did. Instead, she marched in and never
looked back.

He tucked the journal under his arm and dug his hands deep in
his pockets as he turned to go, wondering if he’d somehow crossed a line. But
he couldn’t help it. It was the first time she’d ever teased about seeing
someone else. Even if it was just a harmless joke, he didn’t like the way it
made him feel. He didn’t like it at all.

“Hey McClain!”

He turned to find her poking her head out a second story
window. She stuck her tongue out at him, wiggling her fingers with her thumbs
stuck in her ears. Then she kissed her fingers and blew him a kiss. “I love
you, Danny McClain!”

He shook his head, laughing. “I love you too, Beverly
Grayson. Sweet dreams.”

June
1942

Joey
arrived home with a hero’s welcome. Neighbors, classmates, teachers, and
complete strangers turned out to show their gratitude and welcome him back home.
Danny couldn’t have been prouder of his big brother—or the outpouring of
kindnesses toward him. For days, a steady stream of well wishers stopped by to
thank him and fill their home with baked goods, flowers, and all kinds of
unusual gifts.

“Thank
God for bringing you home to us,” Mrs. Zankowski said, arriving with a large tin
of homemade chocolate chip cookies. “I prayed for you every day, Joey.”

“I
appreciate that, Mrs. Z. Can’t tell you how many times I thought about all that
history you taught us in school. Sure never thought I’d be smack dab in the
middle of it like that.”

“But
you’re home, and we’re all so thankful that you are.”

Mrs. Martello
and her sister from across the street brought over a red, white, and blue
afghan they’d made for Joey.

“We started
it December the eighth,” Angelica said. “Went right out and bought the yarn as soon
as we heard you were over there in
Hawaii
when
the Japs attacked.”

Mrs. Martello
dabbed at her eyes. “We didn’t even know if you were alive or not. We just
figured as long as we worked on your afghan, you’d come home.”

“Crocheted
just as fast as we could to have it ready for you.”

“That’s
so nice!” Joey said as they covered his legs with the colorful afghan. “I’ll
think of you every time I look at it.”

The two
ladies fussed over him, promising to stop by regularly. They both choked up
after planting ruby red kisses on his cheeks before saying goodbye.

Danny plopped
down on the armchair beside Joey’s makeshift bed in the living room. “Seriously,
Joey, you could charm the habit off a nun. I’m pretty sure both those widows have
a serious crush on you.”

“Ah,
they’re just being neighborly.”

“Maybe
so, but you might want to wipe all that lipstick off your cheeks.”

The
visits continued, day after day. Joey wore out easily, so Mom started posting a
sign on the door whenever he needed a break. Folks respected her wishes, often
leaving a vase of flowers or a loaf of blueberry bread—his favorite—wrapped in
aluminum foil inside a paper bag.

Danny loved
having some time home with his brother. It gave him a chance to help his folks get
Joey settled into a routine. The hospital sent him home with lots of
instructions on caring for the wounds that hadn’t yet healed, as well as a
calendar of weekly appointments they’d set up at the VA Hospital in Chicago.

But
those two weeks also gave the brothers a chance to talk, often long into the
night after their parents went to bed. At first Joey didn’t say much about
Pearl
Harbor
,
then gradually he began to open up. He’d get emotional, sharing snippets of
memories from that fateful day in December. The clear blue sky filled with
Japanese zeros as far as they could see. The panic that set in as the call went
out . . .
Battle
stations!
Battle
stations! This is not a
drill!
The deafening explosions that ripped apart the mighty
battleships, one after another. The oil-soaked bodies of his shipmates floating
in the water.

Joey
squeezed his eyes, wiping away tears. “I just thank God I don’t remember the
worst of it. The navy chaplain told me that was a real blessing, and I know
he’s right. But every once in a while, I ask God why me? Why didn’t I die with
the rest of my buddies? Why’d He let me live when every single one of my
friends on board died?

“Then
one day, when I was lying in that bed at
Bethesda
, I felt
as if God told me not to ask Him that any more.” He looked over at Danny. “I
mean, it wasn’t like I heard Him say it out loud or anything. But I knew I’d
heard it all the same. And that’s what I did. I stopped asking why and started
asking what He wanted me to do with the rest of my life. For the longest time,
I couldn’t figure it out. But I knew in my heart God saved me that day for a
reason, and I told Him I’d try to figure that out if it took me the rest of my
life.” Joey leaned his head back on the pillow. “And that’s what I’m going to
do.”

“And
somehow you think working for Dad at the theater is why God saved you?”

Joey
snickered at first. Then his snicker rolled into unrestrained, guffawing laughter
which made Danny laugh just as hard. Sophie jumped up on Joey’s bed, wagging her
tail as if wanting in on the joke.

Joey
rubbed behind her ears, sending her into canine bliss. “Oh girl, you are the
best medicine.” He looked at his brother. “Although I still don’t get how you
convinced Dad to let you keep her.”

Danny wiped
tears of laughter from his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s time I told you.”

Joey
looked back at his brother. “Told me what?”

“It’s
time you knew. Dad’s always loved me more than you.” He couldn’t stop the
wheezing laughter that crept out.

“Yeah,
that’s it. Have your fun. Kick a sailor when he’s down,” Joey teased. “Sophie,
should we tell him? Or do you think he already knows you love me more than
him?”

Danny dreaded
the thought of returning to school after his two weeks home. He’d loved every
minute he spent with Joey. It was like they’d become more than just brothers.
They were friends. But Danny had already enrolled for summer classes, already
paid his deposits, and he was already scheduled to work at The Grill. He said
his goodbyes, promising to get home as often as he could. On the train ride
back to
Evanston
, he
broke in the journal
Beverly
had given him, writing of the
special times he’d shared with his brother . . . and how much he
missed his girl.