He’s growing louder outside, dissatisfied with the answers from Sable and Gertie. Finally he shouts, “Lily! Lily girl! Where are you?” bounding up the front porch.
I give her an encouraging nod and Lily steps out. “Peter?”
He freezes in his tracks, arms flying out for balance at the top of the stairs. “What the Sam Hill?” Rushing forward, he gently touches her face. “Who did this to you?”
When a person is kind it unlocks the jail you put around your pain, the one covering your heart. The look in Peter’s eyes gets through to Lily in a big way, and even though she doesn’t answer him, it doesn’t matter. He has begun to lightly kiss her bruise and every other inch of the face he clearly loves.
“Oh, Peter! I’m so happy to see you!”
He gathers her into his arms, voice hoarse. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. Never ever, you hear me? Never!”
Down on the path stand Sable and Marvin, Hank and Gertie, heads upturned as we silently watch our friends falling in love.
30
MAY
“M other! Mother! It’s here! There’s a package from Jerald!” Into our house I race, breathless. Finding her scrubbing the kitchen tile while on her hands and knees, I shout, “Look! Look!”
She sits back on her ankles, and wipes her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Well go on, open it!”
Tearing the package I laugh, “You look more relieved than I am! Oh look, there’s a whole stack!” I hold them up. “He must’ve been writing to me the whole time.”
I start to open one, and look at Mother’s expectant face. “Gee, perhaps I should read these alone.”
Disappointment slumps her shoulders. “Oh!”
My face twists and I laugh, “How about I read just one?”
She drops her sponge in the bucket and stands for a hand towel. “I am curious.” Hastily she adds, “And not in the way you might think.” She stares at her pruned fingers, carefully drying them. “A mother just wants her children to be happy. That’s all she ever wants. And well, you’re all I’ve got.” She looks at me. “To see you waiting for those letters, just broke my heart. And I must admit, it did occur to me that they might not come. I’ve been waiting on pins and needles for you.” I walk to give her a hug, and she says, “Not your dirty shoes on my clean tile!”
“Oh I’ll clean the footprints in a minute, never you mind. This is more important!” I squeeze her tight. “Thank you for being so good to me!”
She hugs me back and takes a deep breath as I lean against the counter to unfold the letter that was on top of the stack.
“Dear May, When I arrived in Norfolk, I climbed into the sail of a new submarine with a whole new crew. Not something I anticipated. Being granted special leave on account of Pops’ heart attack meant I would return off schedule, with my crew already deployed. And there’s no getting around that, I’m afraid. The men seem OK, but I sure will miss my friends. And I already miss you. That’s a whole lot of missing for one man to take. But I sure was glad I got to see you before I left.
I’m not sure when this will get to you, but when it does there will be a whole lot more. I plan to write you as often as I can. Shifts are long, and sleep is mandatory. But I made sure to bring enough paper with me for two more wars. When you get a stack of my letters you’ll know that though I’m here and you’re there, you are on my mind. Yours, Jerald Cocker.”
I fold and hold it to my heart.
Impressed, Mother says, “Well that is something, isn't it?”
Excited to read them all, I grab a soda pop from the fridge. But as soon as my fingers wrap around the glass, she says, “May, those aren’t good for your girlish figure.“
“Just one! Everything in moderation doesn’t mean total abstinence. I think it just means not to get lost in a thing!”
“Save it for special occasions.”
“Oh, alright.” I put the soda pop back, and, remembering my promise, go to sponge up the prints my shoes left in mom‘s hard work.
“Never mind that. You go on. This is a special day.”
“You mean a soda pop kind of special day?”
She laughs, “Fine, you win! But no more this week!”
Happily snatching one from the refrigerator, I pop the top and pause, frowning at it. I hand it to her. “You so rarely allow yourself to have special things. You have it.” She doesn’t know what to say as I bound out of the room with my precious letters.
31
JERALD
Dear May,
I figure you probably don’t know much about submarines. If I’m wrong about that, I beg your pardon. I thought I might share some things so you aren’t left in the dark when I return to Georgia.
Speaking of dark, I’ll begin there. There are three lighting conditions on the boat.
White Condition: when lights are on in the daytime. In fact, that’s how we know it’s daytime at all, if the lights are on.
Red Condition: when lightbulbs are all red. This is to get our eyes used to the darkness. That’s all it’s for.
Because then there’s the last one: Black Condition: lights out with our instruments backlit in red.
Just picture it, us behind our wheels near in pitch blackness save for our instruments glowing red. Sitting on that seat feels like an honor. Like I’m trusted. It sure does make a man feel his worth. That’s all for now, I guess. Except for one thing… I sure do wish I could see your smile. The memory of it keeps me going.
Yours,
Jerald Cocker
Dear May,
I need to get some shut eye so this will be brief, but I wanted to write. Even though I’m far away these letters make me feel close to
