Chapter 24
TUESDAY
1940
This was curious. She’d not seen LJ in two days. Since he went to the pictures with Abel. She noticed his bed was made, which almost never happened. No socks or underwear were on the floor. And the bathroom was unusually tidy.
He’d missed work at the rink, which was very odd. When she asked Dupree, he shrugged and said he wasn’t his brother’s keeper. Harriet asked Abel, who claimed LJ had gone to Dothan to play some baseball. Baseball? He’d not played ball since he discovered flying. And why wouldn’t he tell his ma?
At the rink, she waded through a crowd of teens on the newly established tradition of spring break. Dupree worked as floor guard and was showing off, flirting with a group of girls. He’d grown another couple of inches this past winter. The hem of his pants sat right at his ankles.
From the balcony, Dirk played his jaunty tunes, and at the end of his sessions, he played a hymn. Tuesday had grown partial to “I Come to the Garden.”
She exchanged her shoes for her skates and made her way to the floor, half expecting to see LJ saunter in.
“Ma!” Dupree tugged on her arm. “Doc’s here to see you.”
He stood against the ticket booth, and she nearly slumped to her knees.
“Is Leroy dead?” Tuesday said when she reached him. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Let’s talk in your office.” Doc closed the door as she entered, taking the nearest chair.
“Tell me straight up. I can take it.”
“Lee’s alive and well, though I don’t know where. Maybe Memphis, maybe Chicago. I cut ties when he started running with the Rossi gang. They’re not a big outfit, too weak to survive the big guns, but it makes Lee a big fish in a small pond.”
“And he always told me he hated fishing.” Tuesday eased her grip on the arm of the chair. Lee was alive. “Why aren’t we enough? Me and the boys?”
Leroy Knight needed something besides her love and their family. Just like her mother and granny.
“I couldn’t tell you. He and I don’t see eye-to-eye on how he treats you.” By his tone, the look on his face, he still carried a torch for her. “He’s one of the smartest yet most foolish men I know.”
Tuesday loosened her laces and removed her skates. “Have you eaten? I made a roast last night and bought a fresh loaf of bread from Good Pickens this morning. Roast beef sandwich with a glass of milk strike your fancy? Burt and Dup can look after things for a while.”
“It sure does, but we need to talk first, Tooz.”
She glanced up at him as she tucked her skates back in the Richardson box. “Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you have to say? It’s about LJ, isn’t it?”
“He’s fine, Tooz.” Doc tugged at his slacks and gently sat back in the chair. “He made me promise not to tell until he got on the train, and now I’m regretting my part in this.”
“Train? What train?”
“He’s run off to join the RAF.”
“The RAF? Doc, what are you talking about?”
“The Royal Air Force.” Dear Dirk’s rendition of Ethel Waters’ “Stormy Weather” wafted through the closed door. “He took the train out of Birmingham to New York. He boards the Queen Mary Monday morning. He’s written you a letter. You should get it soon.”
“He wrote me a letter? Why how kind. I only lived in the same house with him. What possessed him to join the RAF?”
“He says war’s coming and he wants to fly. He’s afraid FDR will keep America out of this one.”
“Afraid? He better be afraid. Flying a warplane isn’t like dusting crops or buzzing a few trees. FDR be darned if he doesn’t keep us out.” A few blue words toppled from her ruby lips. “LJ’s an American citizen. How can he join England’s air force? He’d have to know someone—” She regarded Doc. “You. You helped him.”
“He wanted to go, Tooz. He was heading to Canada with another kid when I got wind of the story.”
“What wind is this? Why didn’t it blow my way?”
“I hear things. Out there. Word is Leroy gave him the money.”
“Leroy?” She moved about the office trying to take it all in. “He gave him . . . That’s a whole new low, Doc. Sending my son off to a foreign war without bringing me in. Not letting me say good-bye. Or even better, giving me a chance to knock some sense into him. Oh, that man!”
“I don’t regret helping him. But I do regret keeping it a secret. I need you to know I tried to talk LJ out of it. But if the Canadians figured out what he was really doing entering their country, he could’ve landed in prison. At least with my connections, he’s under a good commander for now. I hear there’s already an American unit under a chap named Charles Sweeney. LJ may end up in his squadron.” Doc tried to take her hand, but she twisted away. “I know you’re upset.”
“Upset? I’m furious.”
“Well, then.” Doc stood to go. “I’ll be off. If you need anything, just—”
“Wait.” He was her last link to LJ. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Why do you think?”
“What’s wrong with our Air Force? Eglin is just down the road. Why didn’t he just enlist?”
“Like I said, he thought FDR would keep us out. He’s a young man, Tooz. He wants to test his mettle. Have an adventure. He’s more Leroy than you want to admit,” Doc said. “You raised a good man. Be proud of him, of his courage. To be honest, LJ may end up without a war anyway. Chamberlain wants to negotiate peace with Hitler.”
“Peace? That maniac invaded Poland.” Just then, Dupree looked in. “Did you know too?” she asked. “Did you know your brother was planning to run off?”
“I didn’t think he’d do it. And we’re out of oil for the popcorn.”
“Run ’round to Biggs and buy more. I’ll call the supplier in the morning.”
Dupree lingered a second, then said, “Sorry about LJ, Ma.”
“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Tuesday.” Doc took her hand. “You can depend on others.”
“But I do have to be strong, Doc.” If she let herself feel weak—be weak—she’d fall apart completely, never to be assembled again. She could sense her joints and bones rattling, about to snap. “I have to be strong for Dupree and the Starlight.”
Doc released her hand. “Not much has changed about how I feel, Tuesday, right or wrong. But my heart demands I be your friend first and foremost. So if you—”
“W-when do you think I’ll get his letter?” She ached to hear from him, to read his handwriting, to know that he was okay.
“Soon, I reckon. LJ told me to tell you to keep the Starlight on and he’ll be home as soon as it’s over.”
“Then I guess that’s something, isn’t it?”