Of Windmills and War (23 page)

As he
wrote down his thoughts and feelings, he remembered the letters he used to
write to his pen pal Hans and then to Anya, sharing similar thoughts. He’d
often thought of Anya whenever newsreels mentioned Occupied Holland, often
showing grainy images of blown up bridges or long food lines. It all seemed so
strange. One minute they’d been friends, sharing thoughts and musings in weekly
letters. Then The Netherlands fell and
Germany
cut
all avenues of communication from that little country. He’d never heard from
her again. He wondered where she was and how she was doing. He knew it was
altogether possible she hadn’t survived the war. The thought unsettled him. He
wondered how her parents were handling the war, if they’d survived. Was her
mother still bedridden? Her father still pastoring? What was it like to live
under the jackboot of the hated Nazis? Danny shook his head, scattering the
troubling thoughts from his mind.

The
campus in
Evanston
seemed strangely deserted compared to the
fall and spring semesters, but Danny didn’t mind the more relaxed pace. Craig
showed up now and then, still paying his half of the dorm room cost. He’d once
talked about Reginald Craig Gilmore Senior, his millionaire father who traveled
the world with the fourth Mrs. Gilmore. Like father, like son.

Twice
over the summer, he’d made plans to visit
Beverly
up at the
family cabin on
Squirrel
Lake
. The
first time she’d called just before he left for the train station, telling him
of some kind of family emergency that had come up and asking if he’d mind
postponing til later in the summer. The second time, Mrs. Grayson had called to
tell him her daughter had come down with a nasty summer cold and was too
contagious to risk a visit. He wondered why
Beverly
couldn’t have just called herself, but didn’t give it another thought, heading
home for the weekend instead.

Every
time he went home, he found his brother growing stronger. Joey was finally walking
again, though he required a cane. His father clearly enjoyed buying him a
hand-carved cane much like his own. Danny couldn’t believe the difference in
the atmosphere at home. He almost didn’t know the Frank McClain who could be
heard whistling down in his workshop, helping Mother with the dishes, or
playing chess with his oldest son. He didn’t recognize this man, but he sure
liked him better.

How
ironic. The world was at war, but for the first time, theirs was a home filled
with peace.

31

September
1942

Danny checked
his watch again.
Ten after nine
. Beverly, who’d just
returned to campus earlier that day, had said she’d meet him at The Grill after
his shift ended that evening. Classes hadn’t yet started, but the endless lines
of fall registration had sent droves of excited students downstairs to The
Grill. He’d never seen the hangout so busy, the booths and counter seats all
crammed with both wide-eyed freshmen and seasoned upper classmen. When they’d
finally closed down for the night, Danny was exhausted but anxious to finally see
his girlfriend again after the long summer.

He was
surprised she hadn’t come back to
Evanston
sooner. He’d missed her terribly and couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms and
tell her how much he loved her. All summer he’d dreamed about the possibility
of marrying Beverly Grayson. He knew they were still fairly young to get
engaged, but he couldn’t help imagining how he might propose to her, when they
might get married, and where they might honeymoon. Even now the thought brought
a smile to his face.

But all
those thoughts quickly disappeared once he saw her. She approached him in the now-quiet
hall outside The Grill, never once making eye contact.

“
Beverly
! I
thought you’d never get—”

“Hi,
Danny.”

Her
monotone greeting stabbed something deep in the vicinity of his heart. When he
tried to hug her, she was stiff as a board. She kept her head down, only
briefly glimpsing up at him.

“What—Bev,
what’s wrong?”

He
watched her swallow then press her lips together.

“Danny,
we have to talk.”

He
stepped back. “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

She
took a seat on the second step of the staircase and folded her arms across her
chest. He slowly took a seat beside her wondering what could be so wrong.

He
reached for her hand. “I really missed you this summer,” he said, hoping to
keep the conversation light. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for us to—”

“Danny,
I’m engaged.”

His
mind went completely blank. He stared at her, certain he’d misunderstood. She
looked down, smoothing and re-smoothing the pleats in her skirt. He couldn’t
begin to think, much less respond.

“I’m
sorry. I really am. Last year was . . . we had a lot of fun.
We did. And I really like you. From the very beginning, I liked you.”

“You
liked
me?” he heard himself croak.

“Well,
sure,” she answered, still not looking at him. “What we had was really nice and
all. But, well, over the summer I . . . I met someone.”

He
stared down at his shoes noticing how scuffed up they were. He’d need to get
some new ones before classes started. These would have to be his work shoes.
Work
shoes? Why am I focusing on my shoes at a time like this? Wait. What did she
just say?

“—and,
well, I never meant to fall in love with Ronnie, but—”

He
looked over at her brown and white saddle oxfords. Not a smudge on them. Her
rolled-down socks, perfectly white.

Ronnie.
Did she say Ronnie?
“Ronnie?”

“Ronnie
Wentworth. I don’t think you know him.”

“Ronnie
Wentworth, the halfback?”

“Yes.
See, my brother invited him up to the cabin that first weekend and—”

“That
first
weekend?”

“Yes.
And, I don’t know, we just started having a lot of fun together and—”

“That
first weekend.”

A film
reel of the summer started flashing through his mind. The phone calls she
didn’t return. The visits he’d planned that never worked out. That
disinterested tone in her call the day before yesterday. He’d convinced himself
she was just busy, trying to pack up for school.

“Yes,
that first weekend.” She paused and finally looked up at him. “Danny, there’s
no easy way to say it. Ronnie and I just fell in love. And last Sunday he asked
me to marry him.”

He
stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets, and slowly began walking up the
stairs.

“Danny,
I’m so sorry.”

I bet.

He
picked up his pace until he reached the first floor and headed for the doors. A
thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he shoved the doors open and
stepped out of Scott Hall. He started walking with no destination in mind. Even
at
9:30
, the
campus still bustled with activity. He ignored the happy chatter of giggling
coeds catching up on each other’s summers. He ignored the dance tunes and
raucous laughter drifting out of the Sigma Nu house. And he especially ignored
the young couples strolling arm in arm.

He
didn’t stop walking for several hours. But not once in all that time—
not
once
—did what just happened make any sense at all to him.

Danny skipped
the first week of classes. He’d called his boss at The Grill and said he was
sick. He was, of course. Sick at heart and kicking himself for being so blinded
by love. He’d taken refuge in his dorm room, thankful Craig was missing in
action again. He’d thought about going home but wasn’t up to the scrutiny.

Occasionally
he’d take long walks in the middle of the night, trying to sort it all out. How
could he have been so stupid? How could he have let himself be so vulnerable?
Had she played him? Or was he just too naïve when it came to romance?

Eventually
he talked himself out of his self-imposed pity party and went back to class. He
had a mountain of school work to catch up on, including a Greek mythology paper
and an upcoming test in Western Civilization. He forced himself to focus on his
studies and nothing else. He also made a job switch to something more
invisible. He gladly took a maintenance job, cleaning classroom buildings and
the library after hours.

The one
thing he dreaded was running into
Beverly
on
campus. The first time it happened was the Sunday afternoon following Saturday’s
homecoming. Danny had camped out in Deering Library to work on a term paper for
his Econ class. After sitting for two hours, he stood up to stretch and decided
to get a drink at the water fountain. As he leaned over for a sip, he heard a
familiar giggle. He wiped his chin just as
Beverly
and
her fiancé rounded the corner.

“Danny,”
she said, startled.

He took
a step back. “
Beverly
.”

She
smiled shyly at him. “It’s nice to see you.”

Wish I
could say the same
. He said nothing.

She
seemed flustered that he didn’t respond. “I’d like you to meet Ronnie Wentworth.
Ronnie, this is Danny McClain.”

Ronnie
stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Danny shook
it. “I’m sure it is. Nice game yesterday.” The halfback blanched and started to
say something, but Danny didn’t give him the chance. “
Beverly
.
Ronnie.” He turned to leave.

As he
made his way back to his stack of books on the other side of the room, a slow
smile tugged at his lips.
Yeah, nice game, Wentworth. The Buckeyes stomped
you guys 20-6. That puts us at one for five for the season.

Couldn’t
happen to a nicer guy.

Northwestern
went on to lose nine of its ten games on the season, the worst Wildcat record
in twenty years—a fact that delighted Danny immensely. The last game of the
season, a home game played at Dyche Stadium, was the worst yet as the midshipmen
of
Great
Lakes
shut out the Wildcats 48-0. It was Northwestern’s worst defeat since 1899.

In all
fairness, the entire student body had been gutted with so many students,
faculty members, and coaches enlisting to help fight the war. In fact,
everything at Northwestern had changed. Everyone on campus had joined in to
help the cause, from blood drives for the Red Cross to war bond sales and relief
contributions. Social activities and dances were scaled back in line with war
time restrictions.

For the
first time, physical education became compulsory for all male students. More
than 2,800 students took part in the program which was designed to help build endurance
through body conditioning and competitive sports in compliance with Army and Navy
requirements. During half-time activities at the Northwestern-Illinois game,
the entire football field was covered with these students in a mass
demonstration of their new physical capabilities.

The military
had its strongest presence ever on the
Evanston
campus. Navy sailors moved into Foster House and the Naval Air cadets moved
into Haven House. While Danny could appreciate the campus opening its arms to
these young men, it didn’t make it any easier to put up with their constant
taunts and teasing. If anything, the verbal harassment got worse as fall
progressed.

“Hey,
coward. Think Uncle Sam doesn’t see you hiding behind those text books?”

“What’s
the matter, chump? Mommy won’t let you go to war?”

“Too
scared to enlist? Afraid of those scary little Japs?”

By the
time Thanksgiving break rolled around, Danny couldn’t wait to get off campus
and spend a few days at home. On the way home, he’d opened the leather journal
Beverly
had
given him. He’d actually tossed it in his trash can right after she broke up
with him. Then a day later, he dug it out of the trash in his room. He ripped
out all the pages he’d written previously—most of them about her—and started
writing in it again. It seemed like a symbolic way of starting over and facing
life again. His own personal therapy. Most of the time his thoughts rambled,
jumping from one topic to another, but it didn’t matter. It just helped getting
the knotted up thoughts in his head down on paper.

He was
still writing when the El reached the 59th Station. He stashed his journal and
grabbed his gear. After exiting the station, he took the streetcar and jumped
off close to home.

Sophie
greeted him at the door, smothering him with slobbering kisses and a tail that
wagged incessantly. The familiar aromas wafting from the kitchen were just as
he’d expected, drawing him into the heart of home. The hugs and laughter shared
with his family felt like a soothing balm to his troubled soul. On Thursday, when
Joey winked across the table at him after snatching a biscuit during Mom’s
Thanksgiving prayer, Danny felt restored.

Well, almost.

“Danny,
pass the dressing to your father, please,” Mom said as she buttered a biscuit.
“Has Joey told you about his new girlfriend?”

Danny held
his turkey-loaded fork mid-air as he looked across the table at his brother.
“Girlfriend? You have a girlfriend?”

“Well,
you don’t have to say it like that. Even war-scarred sailors have a chance at
love now and then.”