Gilbert Morris (9 page)

They struggled through the service, and Ben discovered that Charlene had a fine soprano voice. He himself had a fairly good voice, and then Pete insisted they sing a duet together, “On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand, All Other Ground Is Sinking Sand.”

He whispered to Charlene, “I remember my folks used to sing that song together. Mom played the piano.”

After the song service was over, Pete took over and asked for testimonies. Several of the patients managed to say a few words. One of them, a woman who looked to be in her nineties, said, “I'm closer to home than I ever was. Glory to God! I'll be there soon. Bless the name of Jesus.”

All the other testimonies were that simple, but finally Pete said, “Now, you visitors, let's hear your story about how you found Jesus.”

Charlene cast a quick look at Ben and saw that he was speechless. Immediately she began telling how she was converted. It was a simple testimony. She had been saved when she was fourteen years old, and she ended by saying, “I was headed down the wrong road, but when I found the Lord Jesus, things went right.”

Pete was busy throwing in amens, and, finally, when Charlene finished, he said, “I can't give this fella's testimony, but I can give his dad's.” He went on to tell the story about how Sergeant Willie Raines had saved his whole squad, what was left of it, at Bastogne. “This fella right here, his dad saved every one of us that Christmas. He always said,” Pete reminisced, “that there was an angel there that kept him and told him what to do, and I believe him.” He turned and said quietly, “I know you're proud of your dad, Ben.”

And suddenly Ben spoke up. “Yes, I am proud of him. I haven't always honored him as I should, but I found out that he did a brave thing and gave life to some good people.”

* * *

After the service was over the director of the nursing home, who had come to stand with his back against the wall, came over to thank them. “I'm Tom Jennings,” he said, “the director here. I want to thank you folks for comin' by.”

“I'm glad we could do it.”

“I heard what Pete said about your father. Those men saved our country. I'd like to shake his hand, but since I can't I'll just shake yours.”

“Is Pete always like this?” Charlene asked the director.

“I call him the apostle of the hopeless. He's in bad shape, Miss. He's in pain right now, but you'd never know it. We get a lot of sad people in here, and Pete feels it's his calling to go around and preach to them and cheer them up. This wouldn't be the same place without him!”

* * *

The dinner with the Taylors was excellent. Pearl Taylor was a fine cook, and her husband Thad was a smiling man who showed his obvious affection for his father-in-law.

After the meal, they adjourned to the family room where Ben got the whole story of his father's heroism from one who was there. He got it all on tape, and when it was time to go, he said, “I'll play this for Dad. It'll mean a lot to him—as it does to me.”

“Be sure you send me a copy of that story of yours, Ben,” Pete insisted. “And tell Willie I'll be seein' him soon.” He saw that the words startled Ben and said, “I don't mean here. I
mean the old squad's going to be together again one of these days. Tell Willie I'll meet him on the other side.”

“I'll tell him, Pete,” Ben said. He stepped back as Charlene said good-bye to the old man. They thanked the Taylors, promising to keep in touch, then went out to the cab that Mr. Taylor had called for them.

Neither of them said much on the way to the airport, each occupied with private thoughts. The quiet continued as they went through the takeoff procedures, but when they were seated in the plane just before takeoff, Ben looked over and saw that Charlene was crying. “It was sad, wasn't it?”

“Sad and yet not sad,” Charlene said. “Pete's so brave. How hard it must be to keep going.”

“A garbage man,” Ben whispered, “but his life has meant more than mine!”

Suddenly it all caught up with Ben, and he felt his eyes mist over. He blinked them rapidly and bit his lip, but despite himself tears formed. He felt them running down his cheeks, and then he heard Charlene say, “It's all right to cry, Ben.” He felt a hand on his cheek and turned his head away. His throat was so thick he couldn't answer. He had seen royal courage this day, a courage that he knew he himself did not have. He sat quietly in the seat as Charlene took the plane off the ground, and then they headed back to Chicago. They had been flying twenty minutes when he took out his handkerchief, blew his nose and said, “I haven't cried since I was twelve years old.”

“I have,” Charlene said. “Men like Pete Maxwell, they make you want to cry.” She held the plane steady, then she whispered, “But they make you want to shout, too!”

For a full four days after the flight to Los Angeles Ben had felt strange. He could not get the thought of the survivors of Bastogne out of his mind. He went every day to see his father, and as he went in on Thursday, Mabelene Williams smiled at him in a way that was not customary. “Well, you're back again. Gettin' to be a regular habit.”

“I guess so, Mabelene.”

“I didn't know you had a heart.” She grinned broadly and rolled her eyes. “I thought you was like that scarecrow in the
Wizard of Oz.
You remember him? He didn't have no heart— but after the wizard gave him one, he done real fine!”

“I remember, but it doesn't work that way in real life. I'm not surprised you'd feel that way. I was a pretty bad son for a long time.”

Mabelene was staring at him thoughtfully. “What got into you? Have you hit the Glory Road?”

“What?”

“You got yourself saved? You been baptized in the blood of the Lamb? Are you born again?”

Ben could not help smiling. “I guess not, Mabelene.”

“Well, you gonna be. I'll have my whole church prayin' for you.”

“Which church you go to?”

“The Fire-baptized Two-seed-in-the-Spirit Predestination Baptist!”

Ben grinned. “Sounds like a good one to me.”

“You come visit with us sometime. You'll see what it's like when the Lord moves. But I'm happy you come and seein' Mr. Willie. He's a good man, and I think you are, too, if you'd just let yourself be.”

Ben went in to see his father, who was sitting at the small table reading the Bible. He put it aside and said, “Hello, Son. How's the story going?”

“Pretty good, Dad. Have you heard from Pete?”

“Sure did. Got a letter today. He said you and Charlene stirred the place up out there. Said she played the piano and you did the singin', and it was like an old time revival.”

“Well, you know my singing wasn't that good. Charlene's a good piano player though.”

“That woman is something,” Willie said. “Flies an airplane. Plays a piano. Does surgery.”

“She's a good cook, too.”

“Well, how about that checker game? I'm ready to beat you again.”

“Again!” Ben grinned. “You haven't beat me in a week.”

“I'm about to begin to commence to start,” Willie said. “Sit down.”

Willie always played checkers with enthusiasm. When he jumped a man, he slammed it down so that the other men were likely to be bounced off the board. When Ben took a man, Willie groaned and carried on as if he had lost a wisdom tooth.

Finally, after the second game, Willie said, “That's enough for now.” He sat back in his chair, and Ben went to get something to drink. His dad liked root beer, and fortunately they had it in the drink machine. “Two beers coming up,” he said. He set the bottles down, twisted the caps off and said, “Tell me some more about when you were in the army, Dad.”

“Why, I done told you all of it.”

“No, you haven't. How about the training?”

Ben sat back and listened while his father talked. He knew his father was making it sound easier than it really was, and he thought as he sat there,
How I have misjudged my dad. All
my life I put him down and didn't have sense enough to see what a real
man he was.

“What about that woman doctor Charlene?”

Ben was thinking of other things, and he blinked with surprise. “What do you mean? She's a doctor.”

“I know that. I mean I
like
that woman. How do
you
feel about her?”

Ben did not know how to answer. In all truth he had thought about Charlene Delaughter a great deal, but now he said, “Well, she's a good doctor, a good pilot, and a good cook.”

“You talk like a sophomore in high school. What I'm asking you, Son, is how do you
feel
about her?”

“I know what you're asking, Dad, but nothing would ever come of it. She wouldn't be interested in a second-rate writer like me.”

Willie smiled slowly. He leaned forward and tapped Ben's hand with his fingertip. “Don't be too sure about that. Your mother, she was interested in a second-rate guy like me.”

Ben could not answer that, so he changed the subject. “We'll be making another trip as soon as Charlene can get away. We're going to see Billy Bob Watkins.”

“They still live in Arkansas?”

“Yeah. A place called Bald Knob. That's a funny name.”

“There's lots of funny names in Arkansas—like Toadsuck Ferry.”

Ben stared at his father. “You made that up!”

“Did not. There's a Whitewash, Arkansas, too, and a Cotton Plant. Folks knew how to make up names with a little bite in 'em back in those days. I've missed Billy Bob. He was a good soldier. They were all good soldiers in our squad and in our company. You tell Billy Bob what I said about him.”

“I'll do that, Dad.” He got up and said his good-byes, and then when he got to the door, Willie's voice caught him. “You hang on to that doctor. I think she's a keeper.”

* * *

Ben and Charlene had landed at Fayetteville, rented a car, and after a drive through some beautiful country were approaching the farm of Billy Bob Watkins, which was nestled in a fertile valley in the Ozarks. As they drove toward it, Ben said, “In the fall the colors here are fabulous.”

“It's beautiful country, Ben.”

Ben pulled up in front of the large stone and cedar house and got out of the car. He opened the door for Charlene, and they both looked at the large barns and the open fields populated with cattle such as Charlene had never seen. “What kind of cows are those, Ben?”

“I think they're Black Angus, but I'm no expert.”

The two stepped up on the porch and were met by a tall woman in her mid-seventies, Ben guessed. She was large—not fat, just large. She had direct gray eyes and a firm mouth and beautiful silver hair. She greeted them in a soft flat drawl. “You must be Mr. Raines. I'm Lou Dean Watkins.”

“This is Dr. Delaughter, Mrs. Watkins. Doctor, this is Billy Bob's wife.”

“I'm proud to meet you, Doctor. My husband went huntin' with our grandson, but he'll be back directly. Come on in the house. It's cold out here. You got your Christmas shoppin' all done?”

Lou Dean Watkins fired questions rapidly in her flat Arkansas drawl. And finally after a time, when she had discovered everything she could about the story that Ben was working on, she said, “I'm pleased at what you say about the story.”

“Were you and your husband married young, Mrs. Watkins?” Ben asked.

Lou Dean Watkins laughed. “We was sweethearts in the fifth grade. Only reason we didn't start sooner was that my folks didn't move into the valley till then.”

“Did you have other boyfriends?” Charlene asked.

“Law, no! First time I seen Billy Bob I knew we was going to get married. He says the same thing.”

“I think that's beautiful, Mrs. Watkins,” Charlene said. “So many marriages don't last these days.”

“Well, we knew ours would.”

“Did you ever have arguments?”

Lou Dean Watkins' eyes danced. “I made the preacher put an extra condition in our ceremony.”

“What kind of condition?”

“That we'd never go to sleep mad.” She laughed aloud and scared a canary in a cage by slapping her hands. “Once we didn't sleep for three days and nights. I guess we both saw that there wasn't nothing for it but to make up—and we did.”

“What was Billy Bob like before he was in the army?”

“Just the same as he was after he went in,” Lou Dean smiled. “He was always a good boy, a good baseball player, good on the farm. He worked hard, like we all did in those days. I wanted to get married before he went to the war, but he made me wait.”

“He was a fine soldier, my dad says.”

“I want to show you somethin'.” Lou Dean Watkins got up and left the room. She came back with a small flat box in her hand. “We're all mighty proud of this in our family. Billy Bob won't never let it be mentioned, but he's not here.” She opened the box and handed it to Ben. He took it, and his eyes opened wide. “Why, this is the Congressional Medal of Honor!”

“That's what it is. They say it's the highest medal a soldier can get in this country.”

“It is,” Charlene said. “I've never even seen one.” She took the box and ran her fingers over the medal. “What did he do, Mrs. Watkins?”

“It was along like what your dad done, Mr. Raines. Wait a minute. I just thought of somethin'. You sit right there.” Once again Lou Dean left the room. She came back with some letters and sorted through them. “This is the one right here. It's about your dad.” She opened it and read:

“I'd be dead if it wasn't for Willie Raines. He was the best soldier I ever saw. I got my mind made up. If I ever get in a tough spot, I will remember Willie and try to do what he did.”

She handed the letter to Ben, who took it and read the words for himself. “I'd like to have a copy of this, Mrs. Watkins.”

“You go right ahead. Take it down to the post office and make a copy of all of 'em. Your dad's in several of them.”

“I'll do that, if you don't mind.”

“Well, about what Billy done. His squad got pinned down, and there was some men out there that was shot. They was out in the open, and they couldn't get back. They was all wounded, don't you see. So, Billy, he ran out and got one of 'em. He got shot, but he got him back anyhow.” Lou Dean Watkins' voice trembled then, and she had to bite her lip. “He brought in five men, one at a time. Got wounded twice more, but he kept on until he got 'em all out. He almost died gettin' the last one out.”

“What a wonderful thing!” Charlene whispered.

“He was such a good boy. He was a Christian, too. He got saved in a revival meeting the summer he went to war. He talked about that a lot, how that if he got kilt, he'd be with Jesus.” Suddenly she lifted her head and rose to go to the window. “There they come now. Looks like they got a mess of squirrels.”

Both Ben and Charlene got to their feet, their eyes fixed on the door. Two men stepped inside, both tall and lanky. They both had light blue eyes and tow-colored hair. “This is my husband, and this is our grandson Robert Lee. This is Mr. Raines, Billy, and Dr. Delaughter.”

Billy Bob's eyes crinkled as he smiled and came forward putting out his hand. “I'm right proud to know you.” His hand was rough and clamped down on Ben's like a Stiltson wrench. “You mind me of your daddy. Got the same kind of look around your eyes Willie had.”

“Dr. Delaughter is the daughter of Charlie Delaughter.”

Billy Bob's eyes opened wide, and he put his hand out and took Charlene's. “I swan! You're Charlie's girl? Well ain't that fine! Me and Charlie had some good times.”

“He mentioned you so often in his letters. I'll make copies and send them to you.”

“'Preciate that, I purely would!”

The younger man stepped forward and shook hands with Ben. His grip was just as powerful, and he said, “I've heard about your dad since the day I was born, Mr. Raines. Every time I act up, Pop says, ‘Willie Raines wouldn't have done a thing like that! Why don't you act like him?'”

“That's a good way to make a boy hate someone,” Ben smiled. He liked the looks of the young man, and asked, “Are you in college?”

“Yes, sir, I'm a sophomore at the University of Arkansas.”

“A Razorback, are you?” Charlene smiled. “I always root for the Razorbacks.”

“Why, are you from Arkansas, Doctor?” Robert Lee asked.

“No, I'm a Yankee, but my husband was born and reared in Little Rock. He played for the Razorbacks.”

“Ain't that a caution now!” Billy Bob exclaimed. “Robert Lee here, he's the quarterback for the Hogs.”

“Just a back-up quarterback, Pop,” the young man protested.

“Well, I wrote a letter to the coach tellin' him he was makin' a big mistake not using you.”

“Pop! You didn't!”

“Shore I did.” Billy Bob nodded emphatically. “You know that poem I like so much:

“I told you not to write that fool letter,” Lou Dean shook her head with disapproval. “You are the stubbornest man I ever seen!”

“No, Lou Dean,
you're
stubborn—I'm
firm
.”

“Did you get any squirrels?”

“Did I ever not get squirrels? Course I got squirrels! Between us we got fourteen.”

“I got ten, and Pop got four,” Robert Lee grinned.

“I had something in my eye,” Billy Bob said. “Now, you go out there and clean them squirrels. Be sure you save the brains for the doctor here.”

Ben caught a glimpse of Charlene's face and laughed outright. “Don't look like that, Dr.. It can't be any worse than eating snails.”

“I heard them frogs over the water ate snails,” Billy Bob said with disapproval on his bronzed face. “Just shows you how depraved they are. Now, you get to them squirrels, Lee. Ma, you start cooking a bodacious supper.”

“And what will you do while Robert Lee and I do the work?” Lou Dean demanded.

“Why somebody around here's got to take care of making talk with our guests, ain't they?” Billy Bob demanded with a hurt look on his face. “Now you folks come on and set down. I want to hear all about your daddy, Ben—and yours too, Doc.”

* * *

Ben and Charlene were held prisoners by the Watkins clan. They protested that they couldn't possibly impose on them, but in the end, they spent the night.

“My wife is plumb downright stubborn,” Billy Bob whispered loudly. “And when she don't get her way, she pouts for days.”