Gilbert Morris (12 page)
Authors: The Angel of Bastogne
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Ardennes; Battle of The; 1944-1945, #Christmas & Advent, #Christian, #Historical Fiction, #World War; 1939-1945, #Angels, #Christmas Stories, #Christian Fiction, #Religion, #Sagas, #Religious, #Historical, #Reporters and Reporting - Illinois - Chicago, #Holidays, #Veterans, #Christmas, #Love Stories
Ben grinned. “Well, obviously, you didn't find the right way.”
“No,” Roger said. “I decided to jump off the tallest building in town. That was the economical way, you see. Didn't even have to buy a gun or poison. I went there. They were having trouble with the elevator, and I decided to walk up to the top floor. It was twenty stories high. By the time I got there I was pretty well winded, completely out of shape. I found the access to the roof and went out there. It was cold. The wind was whistling. I could see the lights of the cityâChristmas lights, that is, everywhere. It looked beautiful, but it didn't mean anything to me. I went up to the edge of the building, to the ledge there, and I got out on it and sat there. It was harder than I thought, but I sat there freezing to death.”
He picked up his glass and took a sip of tea. “I thought about something while I was there. I had known a woman once, a very wealthy woman. She decided to kill herself by jumping off a building. She told me about it afterward. She went to the finest hotel in the city. She was in New York. Got an expensive room, opened the window, and climbed up on the sill. Then she looked down and saw that her toenails weren't painted.” Roger laughed. “She told me she couldn't stand the idea of people seeing her with her toenails not done nicely. So she came in to go get some nail
polish before she jumped, but she never did go through with it.”
“Well, I didn't care much about what my toenails looked like. I was just about to go when I heard a voice behind me. It scared me so bad I nearly fell off that blasted building!”
The boat rose slowly and then sank as a wave lifted it. It was odd to Ben being in a room that wouldn't stand still, but he was fascinated with Saunders' story. “What did you do, Roger?”
“Well, the guy came forward. He wore a jacket that had the name of an elevator company. I forget what it is now. He came to work on the elevator, and I just stared at him. Finally, I think, I asked him what he was doing out on Christmas Day. He was an average-looking guy, you know. Workmen look pretty much alike. He told me that he had had a call to come out and look at the elevator.”
“Didn't he think it strange you were sitting on the edge of a building twenty stories high in the middle of winter?”
Roger laughed. “I'm sure he did. And you know what I thought of? I thought of that movie,
It's a Wonderful Life
. Remember how Jimmy Stewart's guardian angel caught him just as he was about to jump in and drown himself in the river? I thought about that.”
Charlene was watching Roger Saunders carefully. “What did he say?”
“He said his name was Jerzy Wienckyslaw. He told me that he met this woman and fell in love with her. She was a Polish woman. Her name was Katrine Chudzik.” He suddenly stopped and said, “I remember those names after all these
years. Anyway, he told me that she had led him to Jesus, and then he asked me to come home with him.”
“Come home with him? What for?”
“He didn't say, but I was in bad shape. To tell the truth, I needed somebody pretty bad. I went home with him, and they took me in. They dried me out and prayed for me. They loved me, Ben, and I knew it. They weren't phony. I lived with them for a month, and I knew that God was real because I saw Him in them. So one night I asked God to save me and prayed in the name of Jesus, and He did.”
“That's a wonderful story, Roger,” Charlene said.
“Well, it was a rocky road back, but I had a lot on my side. God gave me a new wife and three children. My wife died a few years ago, but the kids are doing well.”
“What'd you do for a living all these years?” Ben asked curiously. “They don't give boats like this away.”
“No. The Lord blessed me. I started out to be an engineer, but that didn't work. I've always been interested in writing, so I started writing. Wound up writing fiction.”
Ben turned his head. “I read quite a bit, but don't believe I've read any of your books.”
“I don't write under my own name. You lose your privacy that way.”
“What name do you write under?”
“James Lawrence.”
Ben stared speechlessly at Roger Saunders. “You're James Lawrence?”
“No. I'm Roger Saunders. I just use that name to keep a little privacy.”
“I've read all your books. They're great,” Ben stammered. He could not believe what he was hearing.
“I've read some of them too,” Charlene added. “There are so many bad books out on the market, and it's refreshing to read one that's good and believes in good.”
“I always want my books to be a blessing to people,” Roger said. He smiled and added, “Don't tell anyone who I am or I wouldn't be able to live like I do.”
The three sat up until late talking, and finally Ben got up and said, “We've kept you up a lot of hours.”
“That's all right, Ben. It's so good to hear about Willie, and I'm glad to hear about you, too.” His eyes went to Charlene, and he winked at her. “You take care of this man. Make a good writer out of him.”
He turned to Ben, and for what seemed like a long moment he was silent. Finally something changed in his face. “You tell your dad, Ben, that he gave me a chance. If it weren't for him, I'd never have written a single word.”
* * *
All the way back to Chicago, Ben and Charlene talked about how strange it was that one of the men Willie had saved was now a famous writer.
“Why, he's won so many prizes for his writing I couldn't name them. He's blessed people all over the world, Charlene.”
“I know, and he's such a modest man, too. You can tell he really loves God.”
“I can't wait to get back and tell Dad about this.” He reached over then and took her free hand. He held it and said, “It's been great, hasn't it, all of it?”
Charlene was intensely aware of the warmth of his grasp. “Yes,” she whispered, “it has been great.”
The stars overhead glittered with warmth. As the plane made its way through the skies, the two in the plane felt they were enclosed not in an airplane but in God's creation.
Christmas came rushing toward Ben at a rapid pace. He worked hard on his story and took Charlene out twice. During the last week before Christmas they had dinner together. Ben talked about his plans to have Christmas dinner with his dad and was pleased when Charlene asked if she could join the party.
“Why, sure you can, but I thought you'd have other plans.”
“I can't think of anything I'd rather do or anybody I'd rather be with.”
Charlene was wearing a black knit dress with a high collar and sleeves that formed a slight bell at the wrists. It seemed to skim over her body and fell to just below her knees. Her hair was hanging down but was tucked behind her ears, showing off a pair of pearl earrings. Ben suddenly grinned. “I thought doctors always had emergencies on Christmas.”
“That's possible, but I'm not going to plan for it.”
The two went for a drive out by the lake. A snow had fallen the night before, and the pristine beauty of the moonlight on the water caught both of them. He parked the car
and turned to her. “You know, I've never looked forward to Christmas like I am to this one.”
“Not even when you were young?”
“Not even then.”
They sat there talking, running the engine to keep the car warm, and finally he said, “I want to give you something nice for Christmas. What do you want?”
“Dedicate your first book to me.”
Ben smiled, then reached over and took her hand. “I was going to do that anyway.”
“What do you want for Christmas?” Charlene asked.
Ben was quiet for such a long time that Charlene wondered about it. “Was that too hard for you, Ben?”
“No. I know exactly what I want. I want us to be together.” He lifted his eyes, and in the silvery moonlight he saw that her lips were parted slightly and she was watching him carefully. “You mean to be friends?” she asked.
“I think we're already that, but I want more than that. I want you to come to think of me as a man you might marry.” Ben saw that her eyes widened, and he said quickly, “I know it's too soon for that, but I'm warning you my worst flaw is stubbornness. I'd like for us to grow old together, Charlene. False teeth, Metamucil, forgetting where we put our glasses. All that kind of stuff.”
“That's a wonderful proposal. I'll bet no man in the world ever put Metamucil in his proposal to a woman.”
“What do you think of it?” Ben lifted her hand, kissed it, and said, “I knowâlet's go steady!”
Charlene suddenly laughed. “I haven't heard that expression in years. You mean like in high school?”
“Sure.”
“The last time I went steady was when I was sixteen years old. I agreed to go steady with Norm Obermeyer.”
“Good old Norm.”
“Well, I didn't like him much, but it was my first offer.”
Ben stroked her hand. “How long did it last?”
“I think it was three weeks. Maybe it was only two. I can't remember. Betty Hodges was one of the cheerleaders. She took him away from me.”
“Norm was kind of a dork. Betty Hodges didn't have anything.”
“You didn't even know her.”
“No, but I know you. What about it?” he said. “You want to go steady?”
“I think so.”
Ben expelled his breath. “I thought you'd say no.”
“That's what it is, Ben. Just going steady. Seeing each other. Getting married is too big a thing to be wrong about.”
“I know. I'll be on trial. You'll begin to check all my habits to see if I qualify.”
“And you can check all of mine.”
Ben moved closer and put his arms around her. “Don't you think,” he whispered, “that two people who have decided to go steady should make some kind of gesture? You know, just so they know where they are?”
Charlene's lips curved upward at the corners in a smile. “You mean like give each other name bracelets?”
“No. I mean like this.” He was watching her carefully and saw her eyes widen as he drew her close. Her eyes were soft gray, and the light danced in them. He saw her lips lengthen and then he kissed her, his mouth bearing down hard and heavy on hers. When he lifted his lips, she asked him suddenly, “What's the woman like, Ben, the woman you want?”
Ben sat very still, aware of the warmth and the firmness of her as he held her, and Charlene knew that her question had reached into the deepest place of his makeup. She knew suddenly that the picture of a woman was in him, colored and rounded, and yet she knew that he had no words that could describe what he felt.
“Like you,” he said simply. “I didn't know there was a woman like you.”
Charlene felt warm and content and fulfilled. “There's been an emptiness in me, Ben. I've been lonely and afraid to face the future alone, but now I know that I don't have to.”
They sat there silently for a time, and suddenly she turned toward him. “I'm going to give your dad a gift.”
“Well, he's a little bit hard to buy for.”
“I know, but he'll like this one.” She squeezed his hand between both of hers and said, “Let me tell you about it. . . .”
Mabelene stepped back and turned her head to one side.
“My, don't you look handsome!”
Willie had donned new clothes that Ben had brought to him for the Christmas party. He had gotten a haircut and had shaved carefully. Mabelene had come in to check him over, and now she said, “You know what'll make you look really good?”
“What's that, Mabelene?”
“Cornrows. Now they'd make you look really spiffy.”
Willie laughed. “I don't think I've got what it takes for cornrows, Mabelene.”
“No, I guess not. That boy of yours,” she said suddenly, “he serious about that lady doctor?”
“He's serious as income tax.”
“I asked around about her from doctors I know. They say she's really OK.”
“Why, I'm glad that you approve.”
“You know,” Mabelene said, “it don't hurt to have a doctor around at times.”
“You mean when you're sick?”
“No,” Mabelene smiled broadly, “Dr. Delaughter, she used her influence here in the hospital to get her own way. You're gonna get to use the board room for a private Christmas dinner. Ain't that a caution? Nobody has ever got to use the board room for nothin' like that.”
Mabelene had just turned to go when Ben and Charlene entered the room. “Hello, Mabelene,” Ben said. “Here's your present.” He handed her a package, and she glanced at him suspiciously. “It didn't come from that old Victoria Secrets, did it?”
“No, it came from the Bible book store. I think you'll like it.”
“I'll put it under the tree, and remember you promised to go to our Christmas program at the church. It's tomorrow night.”
“I'll be there.”
“And so will I,” Charlene said. She handed Mabelene a small, gaily-wrapped package. “Merry Christmas.”
“Why shoot, Doctor, I didn't get you nothin'.”
“You can get me something next year.”
Ben said, “I think the meal's all ready.”
“I told Sergeant Raines here about you gettin' the private board room. I don't know how you arranged that. They didn't let nobody else do it.”
“Rank has its privileges,” Charlene smiled. “You come on down later, Mabelene, and sample some of the meal we put together.”
“I'll maybe do that.”
Ben got behind Willie's wheelchair and said, “All right, Pop, time for a great Christmas dinner.”
Ben wheeled Willie down the corridor. They took the elevator and went to the third floor where the board room was. Charlene opened the door, and when they went in, Willie gasped, “Well, look at this!”
The board room had been converted into a miniature banquet room. The long table was covered with a tablecloth, white with bells and ivy pattern. The table was all set, and over to the right two men stood beside a serving table designed to keep food hot. A stereo was playing Christmas music quietly, and Willie was overwhelmed. “This is really something!” he said.
“Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet, Dad. My doctor friend is quite a lady. She has a gift for you.”
Willie glanced over at the artificial tree that had packages stacked up under it. “I hope it ain't socks. I hate socks for Christmas presents.”
“Oh, it's better than socks. Too big to put under your tree. Go ahead, Charlene.”
Charlene came over and bent over Willie. She took his hands and said, “I wanted to make this a Christmas that you'd never forget. You gave my dad the best Christmas present he could have hadâhis life. And I had him for a long time. That was your present to me, Willie. But I thought,
What would I get
a man who had done such a thing for me?
”
“Not neckties either. I don't like neckties.”
“No neckties. Are you ready?”
“Guess so.”
Willie expected Charlene to go over and pick a gift out
from under the tree, but instead she walked over to a door to her left and opened it. She stepped back, and Willie's eyes opened wide when he saw who came through it.
“Willie, you old son of a gun!”
“Chief!” Willie said. He knew the man instantly even though he had not seen him for years. “Chief Shoulders!”
“It's me all right, Sarge.” Shoulders came over, his black eyes snapping. He leaned over and took Willie's hand. Then he reached back and put his arm around him and held him close. When he released Willie and stepped back, he said, “Look at me. I'm crying just like I was a silly woman.”
Indeed, Lonnie Shoulders did have tears in his eyes. “I should have done this a long time ago, Willie.” He wiped his eyes and said, “It's going to be hard. I've never quite forgiven you for putting me on all that latrine duty.”
Willie was overjoyed and held onto Chief's hand. “I got you a present,” Chief said. “You may not like it, but it's one of a kind. You'll never get another present like this.”
“You're all the present I need, Chief. I can't tell you how glad I am to see you.”
Chief turned and walked over toward the door. “Here it is.” He opened the door, the same door he had come through, and suddenly a man came through dressed in the uniform of the 101st Airborne. The uniform was too big now, for Pete Maxwell had shrunk. His cheeks were drawn, but he was grinning broadly. “Sarge, I'm glad to see you.”
“Pete!” Willie took one of Pete's hands in both of his and clung to it. “I can't believe it. I just can't believe it!”
“Wait until after we get through puttin' this food away. I'm gonna do my Clark Gable imitation for you, and maybe I'll do some card tricks, too.”
Willie could not speak he was so overcome. He looked at Charlene and said, “You couldn't have gotten me a present I like any better. Two presents, that is.”
“No, three,” she said and walked toward the door. She spoke and Roger Saunders walked through. He was wearing gray slacks and a blue sweater, and he looked handsome with his silver hair and blue eyes. “Willie, it's been too long.” He came over and shook Willie's hand. “I've thought about you for fifty years, believe it or not. We should have kept up with each other better.”
“Roger, how have you been?”
“I've been fine.”
Willie clung to Roger's hand and said, “It's not like that Christmas at Bastogne, is it?”
“Nothing was like that.”
“One more present, Dad,” Ben said. He called out, “Come in, whoever you are.”
Billy Bob Watkins strolled inâraw-boned, lanky, his tow hair a little thinner than the last time Willie remembered, but really still the same.
“Ain't this a kick in the head?” he said, dancing across the room. He reached over and tapped Willie on the shoulder with his big fist, then he said, “You and me, we got lots of talkin' to do.”
Willie sat there looking around at the four men who gathered around him in a semi-circle. He looked at Charlene and said, “I wish Charlie was here.”
“He'd be here if he could.”
Willie looked around and said, “A man couldn't have a better Christmas.”
“Now, let's eat this food,” Charlene said, “and then you five have some catching up to do.”
* * *
The meal had been outstanding. Only Billy Bob Watkins had anything negative to say. “This dressin' ain't got cornbread in it.” He shook his head sadly. “There wasn't never no good dressin' made north of St. Louis.”
After the meal was over each man made his little speech and told Willie how much they owed to him. Each of them had filled a photograph album, all of them the same. Charlene had sent the albums to them and requested this. Each contained pictures of their families and a history of their lives. Willie sat glowing with happiness.
Finally, after the members of the squad had done their duty and spoken, Ben said, “It's your turn, Dad.”
Willie Raines looked around the room. He felt a lump in his throat and had to clear it before he could say, “I keep thinking about that line in that poem Charlie told me about. âWe few, we happy few, we band of brothers.'” Willie's hands were not steady as he touched his chin and gazed around the room. “That's what we wereâa band of brothers.”
“Still are,” Chief Shoulders said. “Always will be.”
“That's right,” Roger Saunders said. “All of us that went through that time are brothers.”
“You dadgum betcha,” Billy Bob Watkins nodded, “and ain't nothin' gonna change it.”
“I got one more present for you, Dad.” Ben held up a sheaf of papers and said, “This is my present to you. It's the story. . . . I was assigned to write about Christmas,” he said to the men who were watching. “The title is âWillie Raines and the Angel of Bastogne.' I'd like to read it for you. It starts out, âI spent most of my life not believing in much, but now I believe in many things. This Christmas I believe in God, and I believe in sacrifice, for I have seen it in my father. I believe that every man and every woman has a chance to give a gift that never dies, as my dad did.” He looked up and winked at his father. “And I believe in the Angel of Bastogne!”
THE END