A Pledge of Silence (5 page)

Germany monopolized conversations whenever people gathered. The rogue country now occupied Austria and Czechoslovakia, and, in a recent speech, President Roosevelt implied the U.S. frontier had moved to the Rhine. The press reports were alarming.

Dad asked Abe, “Any inside information?”

Abe nodded. “Hitler’s Luftwaffe—the bombers are using an X-apparatus. By interlocking navigational beams, they can hit within 300 yards of a target. They’ve gained superiority over the Polish air force. Roosevelt has asked Congress for millions more dollars for defense.”

Mama said, “Why? Roosevelt promised we’d stay neutral.”

Dad said, “He’s asking Congress for a revision of the Neutrality Law, Anna. Europe’s a powder keg waiting to blow. He wants to send aid to England if they need it.”

With Abe standing next to her in his uniform, Margie felt protective. She leaned against him, catching the smell of shaving lotion. She didn’t want to lose him to a faraway war.

He leaned back against her as if to say,
Love you
, and asked
,
“How’s the job hunt going?”

“Good! Mama worked her magic. I got hired as assistant director at the Ann Arbor Chapter of the American Red Cross. I start two weeks from tomorrow.”

The job offer came from Myra Walker, the director of the Chapter and her mother’s good friend. Although it was the only employment opportunity Margie had received, she had mixed feelings about it. She would be living at home and taking the train to work—unless she could talk Dad into letting her rent an apartment. Diane had asked her to share one. How much fun that would be—a few months of freedom while she planned her December wedding. She had to let Diane know her decision soon, and she feared her Dad’s old-fashioned notions.

“Look, they’re cutting the cake. Does anyone want some?”

Evelyn stood in the crowd gathered around the cake table. She nudged Abe with her elbow. “You’re a dreamboat of a man in a uniform, flyboy.” Her gaze traveled up and down him.

He flashed a smile of even, white teeth. “You’re a tease. I know all about you.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Evelyn poked Margie. “Hey kid, what rumors have you been spreading about me?”

Margie raised her eyebrows innocently. “Only the juicy ones, Evie. I promise. No others.”

“All right, then. If it’s only them and no others. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m leaving town. Did Margie tell you, Abe? I’ll be at the U.S. Naval Hospital in Annapolis, Maryland. I wish she could come with me.”

Abe said, “You’ll have to stand in line. I have first dibs.” He winked at Margie.

She slapped his arm. “First dibs? For all you know, I just might go with the highest bidder!”

After the festivities, Dad packed Margie’s bags in the trunk of the car. As she slid into the back beside Frank, sadness settled over her. While Evelyn headed off to new adventures in Annapolis, and Abe learned to fly airplanes in sunny Bakersfield, she sat here in her parents’ car, returning to her childhood home. A rogue tear rolled down her cheek that she quickly wiped away. She should be happy. Her long years of education were behind her, and she had a coveted job waiting. Still, all she felt was cross.
Looks like I’m going nowhere
.

Chapter 5

Little River, Michigan, Summer 1939

Frank could hardly contain himself, waiting for Dad to reveal his surprise, which turned out to be bigger than Margie had dared expect. Dad handed her the keys to his Pontiac coupe and opened the driver’s side door. “I’ve been saving her for you, Margie. She runs as smooth as she did the day I bought her. She’s yours now.”

Speechless, she laughed in delight, but inside her head she heard the words
goodbye, apartment
. She swallowed her disappointment and kissed her father’s beaming face. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.” The maroon car, with its black landau top, shone like a new penny.

Mama said, “He had it painted, and he polished all the trim by hand. Isn’t it pretty?”

“I helped,” Frank said, pointing out the wood-spoke wheels he had sanded smooth, the Chief Pontiac hood ornament polished to a high gloss, and the gray velour seats brushed clean and soft. “Can I borrow it sometime? I’d be careful.”

Dad opened the hood and identified each engine part. She watched attentively as he demonstrated how to check the oil, clean the carburetor, and fill the radiator. He said, “Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to change a tire. You need to know that.”

They all piled in for a trip into town for ice cream, stopping to pick up Abe on the way.

“I’m a good driver,” Frank insisted, tipping his hat back.

That evening the night was warm, the sky full of stars, and the smell of lilacs sweetened the air. Margie and Abe sat on the front porch swing, mindful only of each other. Cuddled up to him, she whispered into his ear, “I love you so much.” Her hand ran down the front of his shirt and rested on his lap.

He fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, and she felt herself melting. “We better not. Daddy’s still up.” She leaned back against him. “December’s getting close. We should start planning our wedding.” She locked her fingers into his. “What do you think of a Christmas theme? The attendants in red satin and the church filled with poinsettias and holly? You’ll need a best man and two ushers.”

Abe gave the swing a push with his foot, starting it in motion, its squeak competing with the chirping of crickets. He took a deep breath then said, “Promise you won’t be mad?”

She tensed. “What?”

“December won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve been selected for advanced training. It’s an honor. I can’t pass it up.”

“Can’t we get married anyway?”

“Not as long as I’m in training. I’m sorry. Please don’t look so disappointed.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her lightly. “It’s only six months.”

“That long?”

“It’s not so long, and with both of us working, we can build a nest egg. I’ll open us a joint savings account and send you my paychecks.”

“It’s you not your paychecks I want. Where will you be stationed?”

“At an airbase in the desert north of Los Angeles. Muroc Bombing and Gunnery Range. It’s desolate out there. I’ll be living in a tent.”

“A bombing and gunnery range?”

“I’ll be learning aerial combat. When I finish, I’ll be qualified to fly fighter planes.” He held her hand. “Is a June wedding okay? I promise you an extra-special honeymoon.”

A year to wait. She loathed the thought of sleeping alone in her childhood bedroom while he was off learning to fly fighters. She tried to make light of it, but her voice sounded thin. “It better be an extra-extra-special honeymoon.”

“I promise,” he said, handing her a small box.

As he slid the engagement ring on her finger, the tiny diamond sparkled like the brightest star in the sky.

Margie fussed with her hair and makeup, then slipped on a rayon blouse, slim skirt, hose, and shoes. She arranged a sweater over her shoulders and checked in the mirror. Satisfied with the look, she watched for Abe’s car from the front porch swing. Today was their last day together.

Mama came out and sat beside her. “It’s a beautiful day to be out and about. Where are you and Abe going?”

“Ann Arbor. He wants to go through the art galleries and see what’s new. He used to talk about owning one. Did I ever tell you that? His uncle owned a gallery in Chicago. Abe spent summers there and did odd jobs. He liked hanging out with the artists. He hasn’t mentioned that in a long time.”

Abe stopped the car in front of the house and waved through the open window. Margie hurried down the rutted driveway, opened the passenger-side door, and slid over close to him. She hollered to Mama, “We’re meeting friends for dinner. We might be home late.”

As they drove, Margie contemplated Abe’s decision to become a fighter pilot. “You love it, don’t you? What’s it like up there in the sky?”

“Cold mostly.” He laughed, then sobered. “Flying up through the clouds and breaking into the clear—it’s exhilarating. I like it all—the planning, the anticipation, the preflight procedures, waiting to hear those three little words…,” he grinned, “cleared for takeoff.” “The force of it pushes you back in the seat.”

“You’re never afraid?”

“No. When I’m up there I’m in total control. Free as a bird. Then the landing approach, the wind whistling, the ground rushing toward me, my heart racing.” He thought a minute. “I take it back. I was afraid once. My first inverted flight.”

She sensed the car accelerating.

“I was at 4,000 feet and dangling upside down. I couldn’t see because stones from the cockpit were flying in my face. Then, I felt the harness give. You better believe I prayed like a repentant sinner! Whoo-ee! What a rush!”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. The plane righted.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“Nah! I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Surprised by the tone of his voice, she gazed out the side window. Sometimes Abe seemed different—older, arrogant, and dismissive of her as he had never been before. She said, “Of course, you wouldn’t expect me to understand.”

He quickly said, “That’s not what I meant. Look. For me, flying is the ultimate thrill. That’s all.”

“That’s all? Now you want to be a fighter pilot. Why didn’t you ask me how I felt about it? Ever since you told me, I’m having trouble sleeping. What’s this need to push to the edge?”

He bit down on his lip. “It’s my life, okay?”

The passing scenery blurred through her tears. “What about mine?”

He pulled to the side of the road. Drying her tears, he flashed a lopsided grin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I love you. I need you, Margie. You keep me grounded. Look, no more serious talk, no more thinking about tomorrow. It’s just you and me and a sunny day. Send me off with a bang, baby.”

She kissed the grin she loved. They only had a few hours, and she didn’t want to squabble. “All right, fella. If it’s a bang you want, you got it.”

They toured the art museum and roamed through Ann Arbor’s galleries and antique shops. Abe bought a filigree brooch and pinned it on the collar of her blouse, where his hand lingered before caressing her chin. In a used-book store, she purchased
The History of Military Aviation
and wrote inside the front cover, “To my favorite flyboy. I’ll love you forever.”

That evening they met Diane and Paul at The Kneebone, a jazz club where blue lights illuminated the dining room. They could barely see their booth until the silhouette of the waitress lit a tiny candle. The air was heavy with smoke and smelled of garlic and hot sauce. From the jukebox, Duke Ellington droned “Mood Indigo.” The foursome drank pitchers of beer, ate slabs of barbequed ribs, and shared stories.

“Fay Kinnit?” Abe guffawed at the tale of Salem’s Revenge. “Who thought of that name?”

“Evelyn,” both the women said at once.

“P. Brain?” Tears of mirth rolled down Abe’s cheeks. “Margie, I thought that place was so austere, and now you tell me this. Oh, Lord. What other secrets are you keeping?”

Margie showed off her new diamond ring, and Diane and Paul chattered about their own upcoming wedding. Would Margie and Abe be able to attend? No one mentioned the listless economy, the war brewing in Europe, or Abe’s leaving for California in the morning. They left The Kneebone and went to Charlie’s, where a combo played dance tunes. Margie and Abe clung to each other on the dance floor.

And so the evening went.

“Are you sure you can drive?” she asked.

“Why not?” he said, stumbling into the driver’s seat.

He drove while she dozed on his shoulder. Pulling into a park on the edge of town, he stopped the car behind a dense grove of trees. Sitting up, she looked around. “Where are we?”

“Davis Park. I don’t want this night with you to end.” He pushed the seat back, turned the radio to soft music, and reached for her. She scooted closer. She didn’t want this night to end either.

They shared deep kisses as he unbuttoned her blouse and released the clasp on her brassiere. He covered her face, neck and breasts with soft kisses.

Marge ran her fingers through Abe’s hair as she enjoyed the sensations that were coursing through her body.

Abe’s kisses came back to her face and he murmured, “Make love to me, Margie.” He caressed her breasts and gently squeezed a nipple.

Her mind whispered,
We shouldn’t. Just a little more then we’ll stop, just a little longer, what would it hurt? It feels so nice, how can it be bad?

“We shouldn’t,” she managed to say, but as he slipped his hand under her skirt, she unzipped his trousers. He groaned in pleasure, and his fingers sought the edges of her panties.

She pulled away. “We can’t do this,” she whispered, but she was pulsing with desire. “What if I get pregnant?”

He reached in his pocket, pulled out a condom, and pressed into her hand.

“What’s this? Oh! You devil! Where did you get it?”

He flicked her earlobe with his tongue. “They give them out like candy at the base.”

She recoiled, feeling herself blush. “You?”

“No. Not once. Not without you.”

She nestled into him, loving him. What would it hurt? Their wedding plans had been set into motion, and he was leaving for California in the morning. She caressed his face. No one would know.

“Make love to me, Margie. We’ve waited so long. We’re not children anymore, and I love you so much.” He pressed into her while his hands moved roughly over her breasts, down her back, and under her skirt again. His fingers tugged at her panties. “Please, Margie. I can’t leave you again without making love to you.”

Desire overwhelmed her. She couldn’t say no to Abe. Not again. Not this time. Shivering with anticipation, she whispered, “Okay.”

“Okay!” he murmured, quickly removing her panties and tugging at his belt. Elbows and ankles jockeyed for space in the tight confines of the car as they made love, her head at an odd angle and him heavy on top.