Morning Glory

Will put his palm on Donald Wade’s hair. 'That right, kemo sabe?'

'Three of ’em, down by the Steel Mule.'

'You didn’t touch ’em, did you?'

Donald Wade wagged his head hard. 'Uh-uhhh! Mama said.'

Will went down on one knee and set his sack in the wagon. 'Come here. You too, Thomas.' Thomas dropped the scooter and both boys stood close while Will looped his arms around their waists. 'You always do what your mama says, all right? I’m countin’ on you to be good boys.'

They both nodded solemnly, aware that Will’s leaving was of import but too young to understand why.

'How long’ll you be gone, Will?'

'Oh, a while, I reckon.'

'But how long?' Donald Wade insisted.

Will carefully kept his eyes from Elly.

'Till them Japs’re killed, I reckon.'

'You gonna get a real gun, Will?'

He drew Donald Wade against his thigh. 'Tell you what-I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. Now you be a good boy and help your mother with Lizzy P. and Thomas, okay?'

'’Kay.' His voice lacked its usual vibrancy as Will’s leavetaking became real. They kissed. Hard and hearty while the back of Will’s nose stung.

'’Bye, kemo sabe.'

'’Bye, Will.'

'’Bye, sprout.'

'’Bye, Wiw.' Another soft mouth, another hard hug and Will clasped them both, closing his eyes.

'I love you two little twerps-an awful lot.'

'I love you, Will.'

'I wuv you, Wiw.'

He got quickly to his feet, afraid of what would happen if he didn’t.

'I want to hold Lizzy P. one time, all right?' He reached for the baby, held her upright with her feet at his chest. She peeked out from beneath a home-knit cap and a warm flannel quilt. When he put his nose to her cheek she smelled of a fresh bath and powdering. 'I’m comin’back, Lizzy P., you sweet, sweet thing. Got to see them teeth you’ll be sproutin’ and see you ride the schoolbus to town.' He made it brief-a nuzzle and a kiss-because it was too painful. 'Here, Donald Wade, you hold your sister in the wagon, son.'

When Lizzy P. was settled in her brother’s lap, Will turned to Elly and took her by both hands. She was crying quietly. No sobbing, only the tears rolling down her pale cheeks.

'You keep them quince ready, missus, ’cause you never can tell when I’m gonna come traipsin’ into this yard hungry as a spring bear.'

Though the tears continued streaming, she lifted her chin high and affected a discommoded attitude. 'Always were a peck o’trouble, Will Parker, you’n’ that sweet tooth of yours.'

The tears he’d contained so well could be hidden no longer. They glimmered on his eyelids as he and Elly lunged together in a fierce, possessive hug. He dropped his head and she lifted on tiptoe, each seizing the other while their false gaity dissolved.

'Oh, Elly… Jesus.'

'You come back to me, Will Parker, you hear?'

'I will, I will, I promise I will. You’re the first thing I ever had to come back to. How could I not come back to you?'

They kissed, feeling cheated out of so much they hadn’t had time for.

'Send me your picture soon as it’s taken, in them fancy soldiers’ clothes.'

'I will. And remember what I said…' He held her face in both hands, looking into her precious green eyes. 'You’re as good as anybody in town. Take the boys in, and go to Miss Beasley if you need anything.'

She nodded, biting her lips, then pulled him close, grasping the back of his denim jacket in her fists.

'I love you s-so m-much,' she choked.

'I love you, too.'

They kissed again, tongues reaching, arms clasping, tears falling while somewhere a train rolled toward Whitney to bear Will away. He forced his wife from his arms and ordered shakily, 'Now get Lizzy P. and the boys and y’all sit under the sourwood tree. I wanna see you there when I go ’round the bend. ’Bye, boys. Be good.'

He picked up his brown paper bag and watched Elly reach for the baby, swinging away before she’d straightened, striking off down the driveway, blinking to clear his vision, dashing a hard denim cuff against his eyes. He didn’t turn until the last possible moment, when he knew the bend would hide them from his sight. He drew a deep breath… pivoted… and the picture branded itself upon his heart.

They were clustered beneath the sourwood tree, the boys pressed close to their mother as they sat on the sere grass of late winter. Blue overalls, brown boots, curled toes, thick woolen jackets… a green and pink quilt, a tiny face pointed in his direction… a faded blue housedress, a short brown coat, bare legs, brown oxfords, anklets, a long sandy braid. The boys were waving. Donald Wade was crying. Thomas was calling '’Bye, Wiw! ’Bye, Wiw!' Elly held the baby high against her cheek, manipulating Lizzy’s tiny hand and her own in a final wave.

Oh, God… God…

Will raised his free hand and forced himself to turn, stalk away.

Think about coming back, he recited like a litany. Think about how lucky you are you got them four waitin’ under a sourwood tree. Think about how pretty that little place is you’re leaving, and what it’s gonna be like to see those boys come runnin’ when you walk back up this road, and what it’ll be like to hold Elly again and know you won’t have to let her go, and how you’re gonna smile when Lizzy P. calls you daddy for the first time, and how you’re gonna have one of your own someday just like her, and you and Elly’ll watch all four of’em grow up and get married and get grandbabies and bring ’em back home on Sundays and you’ll show ’em the old sourwood tree and tell ’em all how you marched off to war and left their grandmama and mama and daddies sittin’ under it wavin’ you goodbye.

By the time he reached Tom Marsh’s place, he was calmer. He stood at the edge of their property, looking up at the neat white house, the empty clothesline in the backyard, the stump where the kettle held only dirt, no petunias. A new white picket fence surrounded the yard; he opened the gate, clicked it shut behind him and approached the house with his eyes fixed on it. A shaggy yellow dog came off the porch, barking and sniffing his calves, a half-grown pup, more inquisitive than threatening.

'Hey, girl…' Will bent and scratched her neck. 'Where’s your folks, huh?'

When he straightened, a woman had opened the door and stepped onto the back stoop. The same young woman as before, dressed in a trim red dress with a white mandarin collar, shrugging into a white sweater.

'Hello!' she called.

Will approached slowly and removed his hat. 'Mrs. Marsh?'

'That’s right.'

'My name’s Will Parker. I live up on Rock Creek Road. Eleanor Dinsmore’s my wife.'

She came down two steps and extended her hand. She was a pretty woman, thin and leggy, with bouncing black curls, cheek rouge and lipstick that made her look sweet, not hard like Lula Peak. 'I’ve seen you pass on the road several times.'

'Yes, ma’am. I work at the library for Miss Beasley. I mean, I did. I’m…' He gestured toward town with his hat. 'I’m on my way to Parris Island.'

'The Marine camp?'

'Yes, ma’am.'

'You got drafted?'

'Yes, ma’am.'

'So did my husband. He’ll be leavin’ at the end of the week.'

'I’m sorry, ma’am. I mean… well, it’s a heck of a thing, this war.'

'Yes, it is. I have a brother, seventeen. He quit school and enlisted in the Navy already. Mama and Daddy just couldn’t keep him at home.'

'Seventeen… that’s young.'