Gilbert Morris (11 page)

Charlene sat facing Willie Raines, watching his face with a glow of pleasure. The two had been playing checkers, and she suddenly laughed aloud. “Do you
ever
lose a game, Willie?”

Willie rubbed his chin and looked up thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Well, it seems to me that I did lose a game back in 1932.” He suddenly laughed and said, “Sure. I've lost plenty of them.” He studied the young woman across from him and now spoke his thought aloud. “You know I've been wondering how Ben ever managed to talk you into flying him over the whole country. You're a busy woman. I know that.”

“It's been fun, Willie,” Charlene said. “I've always been interested in the men that served with my dad, and I've meant to get in touch with them, but it was one of those things I just put off.”

“Well, you sure made Ben's work a sight easier,” Willie said. “Where are you going next?”

“We're going down to Florida to see Roger Saunders.”

“Roger Saunders. Hey, that brings back memories! He was different from the rest of us fellows.”

Charlene leaned forward, her eyes intent. “Different how, Willie?”

“Well, for one thing, he was smarter than the rest of us. He wasn't too good a shot and not much with anything mechanical, but he was a thinker. You could tell that. When we got the news about the war, he'd tell us what it all meant. Made me a little nervous to be around a man that smart, but he was a good soldier.”

The two talked for some time about the members of the squad, and then Willie said, “I can't tell you how good it's made me feel knowing that Ben came to the Lord. Been praying for him all of his life, I guess, and his mom did, too, before she went on.”

“He's different, isn't he?”

“I'll tell the world! He looks different, he talks different, and there's a light in his eyes.”

“It's made me very happy. I haven't known Ben long, but the Lord gave me a burden for him.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Charlene lifted her head. “I hear him coming.”

“I can't hear him, but I can hear Mabelene. She thinks everybody's deaf, I guess. Talks like it anyway.”

Ben suddenly appeared in the open door with Mabelene right behind him. The two entered, and Ben walked at once over to Willie and gave him a hug. “How you doin', Pop?”

“Doin' fine, Son.”

Charlene saw how much the gestures meant to Willie Raines, and she smiled. “Don't I get a hug, too?”

“Have you been good?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well then, no hugs until you're good.”

Mabelene was watching this with her eyes wide. “What about you? Have you been good?”

Ben suddenly turned to face the nurse. She was a tall woman, broad and strong, and had not completely accepted the idea that Ben was now a believer.

“Mabelene, I've changed so much I'm going to give you a Christmas present.”

“Humph! What kind of present you gonna give me?”

Ben had his head turned to one side and winked at Willie and Charlene. “Well, I've been shopping down at Victoria's Secret, and I found—”

“I don't want to hear nothin' about what you found at that place!” Mabelene said, her lips drawn together in a straight line. “That ain't nothin' but a sinful place!”

Willie began to laugh, and Charlene could not keep her smile back. “He's teasing you, Mabelene.”

Mabelene glared at Ben and then saw that he was trying to suppress his own smile. “You keep your old Victoria Secrets stuff! You wanna give me a present I'll tell you what to give me.”

“All right. You tell me, and I'll give it to you.”

“You promise?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I want you to come to our church for the special Christmas service.”

“Why, I'll do that, Mabelene. It'll be a pleasure. Maybe Dr. Delaughter would like to go, too.”

“Of course I would. We'll both go.”

Mabelene's face grew cheerful. “All right then. I got your promise. I'll be lookin' for you.” She turned and left the room, and Ben shook his head. “She's something, isn't she? Are you about ready to go?”

“All ready, Ben.”

“You give Roger my best. I wish I could see him. I wish I could see all of them, but you tell him that I think about him a lot.”

“I'll tell him, Dad.” He went over and rested his hand on Willie's shoulder and squeezed it. “You hold the fort here. We'll be back as soon as we can, and we're gonna have one bodacious Christmas celebration right here in this hospital.”

As they walked down the hall, Charlene was quiet. “What's wrong with you?” Ben asked. “Is something the matter?”

“I was just thinking how happy you've made your dad.”

Ben did not speak for a time, and when they were outside, he turned his coat collar up against the chilly breeze. “I'm ashamed at the way I treated dad.”

“Well, you can make it up to him,” Charlene smiled. “That's one good thing. I wish I could make things up to my dad.”

“Were you two close?”

“Very close, but I miss him, and I think of things I could have done for him, but I didn't.”

The two walked down toward Charlene's car, and when they got in, she said, “It's good flying weather.”

“Well, I don't want to go down, but at least I'll be ready if we do.”

Charlene laughed. “Don't talk like that. We're gonna have a great flight.”

* * *

“That must be it right over there. See? Slip thirteen.”

Charlene pointed toward one of the large houseboats that lined the harbor at the docks. They were numbered, and Ben had told her that Roger Saunders's boat was in the thirteenth slot, which was called a slip. The boats moved slightly in the water as a wind over the sea lifted them. The two headed down toward the boat and Ben said, “That must be him.”

Charlene saw a man sitting in the front of the boat. His back was to them, and he appeared to be asleep.

Ben looked over and said, “The Logos. That's the name of his boat. What does that mean?”

“It means the
word
. You know, like in John 1, ‘In the beginning was the word.' He named his boat after Jesus, really.”

“That's neat,” Ben smiled with admiration. They moved closer to the dock, and Ben called out, “Mr. Saunders?”

The man snorted, shook his shoulders, and got to his feet hurriedly. He was a small, compact man with deep-set eyes that appeared to be very dark blue. His face was weathered by sun and wind, the look of a sailor. He smiled and walked over to the short gangplank. “Come aboard,” he said. “I expect you must be Ben Raines.”

“That's right. This is Dr. Charlene Delaughter.”

“Doctor, it's good to have you.” He shook hands with both of them and stepped aside. “Come aboard. It's kind of cold out here, but it's warm down in the cabin. Could you drink some coffee—cocoa?”

“Anything hot,” Ben said. “That would be good.”

The three of them went below, and Charlene exclaimed, “Why, this is beautiful!”

It was indeed a beautiful room. The walls were of walnut that glowed with a sheen. The carpet on the floor was as thick as any that Charlene had ever seen. There were couches along two sides and large windows that admitted the sunlight.

“I've never been on a boat like this.”

“Only way to live,” Roger Saunders said. “You want decaf, regular, cocoa, espresso? I'm gonna put Starbucks out of business.”

He made the coffee, and they sat down around the table. Ben said at once, “As I told you on the phone, Mr. Saunders, I'm writing a story about the squad you were in back at Bastogne.”

“I know. I've been thinking about it. It wasn't much fun.”

“No, it couldn't have been, but I'd like to put something in the story about it. So, if you'll tell me how you remember it, it might help. . . . I'd like to tape it, if you don't mind.”

“Been a long time ago.” Roger hesitated and said, “How's your dad?”

“Well, he's getting on, but he's bright and cheerful. He's in the VA Hospital, as I told you. I tried to take care of him, but I couldn't, going out to work.”

“You're not married?”

“No. Just me and him.”

“Well, I'll tell you what I remember about that time.” Roger Saunders began to speak, and he had a marvelous way with words. He described that bitter, cold winter and the terrible conditions that the men lived through, and as he spoke, the memories seemed to flow.

Finally he ended and moved a hand across his forehead. “We lost a lot of good men there. Most of our squad didn't make it.”

It seemed to have troubled him to talk about the war. Suddenly he proposed, “What do you say we take her out for a bit?”

“I don't know. We don't want to take your time, Mr. Saunders.”

“Just Roger will do. I always go out for awhile about this time of day. Then I'll cook you a supper when we come back, if you're not in a hurry.”

“No hurry at all, and it'll be interesting to go out in a houseboat.”

* * *

The trip was fine, and Ben and Charlene enjoyed it. Roger handled the wheel easily through the open water. The houseboat was not fast but forged steadily along through the gray-green water. When the shore was almost out of sight, Roger looked around at the open space and said, “I try to get out here every day. Florida's getting to be a big tourist trap.”

“Everybody wants a bit of the sun and fun, I guess.”

“You know, I went to Israel once. I had it in my mind that it'd look like the pictures in my Bible storybook,” Roger grinned. “Now there's a big tourist trap! They would take us to a place and say, ‘Right here, this was where Lazarus was raised.' How in the world would they know that? There were no historians or photographers standing around to mark the spot.”

“I had the same experience,” Charlene said. “Most of it was disappointing.”

“You know the one place that wasn't disappointing?” Roger asked. “We got in a small boat and went out on the Sea of Galilee. The guide stopped the motor, and we sat there. It was quiet that day, no high waves. The guide said, ‘Just like it was when Jesus was here. No tourist traps.'”

“I thought that when I was up in the mountains of Israel. They haven't changed. No souvenir shops there,” Charlene said. They talked for awhile about Israel, and for a time they simply cruised along. It was quiet and peaceful, and after a time Roger said, “I've got some fresh red snapper. Caught it myself. Why don't you just steer the boat while I go cook 'em up?”

Ben was alarmed. “Why, I don't know how to drive one of these!”

“Just don't run into anything,” Saunders grinned.

“But I'll get us lost.”

“Well, I'll get us found. That's what that thing right there is for.” He pointed to the instrument panel. “Doc, why don't you come and help me do the cooking.”

“All right, I will.” The two headed down to the cabin and left Ben alone. He was alarmed, for he knew nothing about seamanship. It gave him a strange feeling to control the boat, and as he did, he thought about how nice it would be to live like Roger Saunders.
If you don't like one place,
he thought,
you
just start the engine up and go someplace else.

Several times he saw boats off in the distance, and from time to time a plane would go over, but the rest was peace and quiet.
I could take a month or two of this
, he thought.

* * *

The dinner was fine—fresh red snapper, grilled and blackened, with hush puppies to go with it and a fresh garden salad.

“I heard about hush puppies and had them in a restaurant in Chicago,” Charlene said, “but they were nothing like these. They're delicious.”

“I got the recipe from a fellow that came from Orange Beach, Alabama. He ran a charter boat there. He was some cook.”

“How do you get fresh garden stuff this time of the year?”

“Oh, it's not like Chicago. We get fresh stuff most of the time around here,” Roger said. He drank from his glass of iced tea and said, “Now tell me about the rest of the squad.” He sat there and listened and finally, when Ben had numbered them, he turned and looked at Charlene and said, “So your dad's the only one that's not with us anymore.”

“That's right. I lost Dad a few years ago, but he had a good life. I miss him though.”

“I know you do.” Roger hesitated, then said, “I'll tell you about myself. I don't know how much of it needs to go into the story, but I'll let you decide that.”

The stereo was playing classical music in a soft, muted tone. Roger's voice was quiet, and he seemed to go back into time as he began to speak.

“Well, I survived the war, but it made a cynic out of me. I saw too many good guys die. I came home and tried to pick up my life. Went back to college but got in with the wrong bunch. Got into drinking and dope—bad stuff. My wife had waited for me all through the war, but she couldn't handle all that. She finally left me.”

Ben listened, studying the man's face. His host had a thin and taut face, and his eyes were quick and alert. He remembered his dad had said Roger Saunders was one of the smartest men he ever knew.

“It's an old story. I lost everything through my drinking. Woke up one morning in jail. Funny thing, it was Christmas week. Everybody on the street was buying presents. That didn't mean anything to me. All I was thinking about was my next drink.

“When I got out, I didn't have a place to go. No money.” He touched his chin thoughtfully and shook his head. “Finally I decided life wasn't worth living. I decided to commit suicide.” He saw their faces change and said, “People do it all the time. What did I have to live for?”

He suddenly smiled and said, “You know what my big
problem was? I couldn't figure out a right way to do myself in. That's the trouble with being an intellectual. You think about things too much. I didn't have a gun and no money to buy one. I didn't know how to get poison or which kind to get. Somehow I couldn't stand the idea of using a knife.”