“I’m sorry I know so little!”
“I’m married to a politician, my dear, and even I know very little! Washington doesn’t explain everything that goes on to the public. It’s far too complicated, which is why we trust the good men and women we elect to hold our best interests at heart.”
Mr. Cocker mutters, “Some good men have to fight some not good men on more issues than they’d like to count!”
Mrs. Cocker waves her glove, “I’m going to let myself be content that at least one of my boys is coming home! This is a day I’ve been waiting for!”
I stare out the window as we leave Albany behind us, thinking, Me too, oh, me too!
37
JERALD
Returning home on a battleship isn’t a bad way to travel, no sir.
The moment land came into view, every available spot to stand or sit was claimed by a sailor or a soldier.
We traveled back to America on cots crammed like sardines as far as the eye could see. We ate in shifts. This morning we passed around countless basins of soap and water to bathe as best we could, changing into our dress uniforms, carting our bags outside to watch Norfolk’s landing dock grow large with each passing second.
I ask David, fellow planesman, a man I steered beside ever since I joined my last crew, “Isn’t that a sight for sore eyes?”
“I’ll say! Can’t wait to see Noreen and the girls! They must be so big by now! How ‘bout you?”
“My folks’ll be there, but I’ll have to wait to see May.”
“That’s a shame!”
“Can’t be helped.” I squint at the sun. “If she were my wife, she’d be there, yessiree.”
“Be your Mrs. soon, the way you talk about her!”
“If she’s still waiting for me,” I frown, staring at the dock where hundreds if not thousands are waiting for our ship. “There’s something about May’s eyes a man could get lost in and never want to be found.”
David claps a hand on my shoulder as the serviceman go wild. Civilians cheer from the dock, raising their hats, shouting hurrah. It’s a sight a sailor won’t soon forget.
We disembark single file, saluting the line of officers with gleams in our eyes. One after the other we break off to find our families and hug them tight. It’s absolute chaos, and I’m grinning the whole while, searching for my folks.
I hear Ma’s voice shouting, “Jerald! Jerald!” and I follow the sound to her joyous face. She’s just behind Pops who waves like a man, two short whacks of the air.
I make my way through the dense crowd with a smile that freezes. “May?!”
She bounces to see me, blue eyes brimming with happiness. “Jerald!!”
“Holy cow!” I push my way through. “I can’t believe you’re really here! Did you get my letters?”
She laughs through happy tears, “Every one! At least, I think so! I’ve counted one-hundred and twenty-one, is that right?”
“Sounds it! Damn, it’s good to see you!”
She throws back to me the very last thing I said to her almost a year ago, “Come now, Jerald, Language!”
Laughing, I lift her up, squeezing her tight as I look to ask Ma, “This your idea?”
Setting May down, I hug my mother as she chides me for not hugging her first.
“My apologies. Guess I forgot myself. Pops!” My Father and I clap each other’s backs.
“Sure is good to see you, son.”
“You look like your old self again — fit as a fiddle! Wow, it’s great to see you all!”
“What do you have to do next? Are you free to go?”
“Listen, I have my locker, and there are forms that need to account for my arrival and all that.” I look at May. “And maybe some letters to pick up?”
Her smile is beautiful. “Of course there are! I don’t think they’re nearly as exciting as yours were, but they’re waiting, just the same!”
On our way to the lockers, Pops throws his arm over my shoulder. “I’d wager few things are as exciting as Jerald’s war stories, isn’t that right? Although your Mother and I have a beef with you. By no means did we receive anywhere near one hundred letters. Explain yourself!”
“You got me into an awful mess, May!” I laugh.
“Now Raymond, leave the boy alone! We did receive more than I expected we might, and I will have to be satisfied with that.” We all look at her and she throws up her hands. “I’m too happy to be mad!”
It’s over an hour before we’ve completed all that needs to be done, and I wave to friends as we stroll to the car Pops hired, me carrying my bag from the sub, him with the one stored in my locker. Ma is elegantly clicking along at my side and asking questions about lighthearted things like meals, and how we kept ourselves occupied during rest periods. “Cribbage, mostly. Oh, and the fellas enjoyed your book, Gone With The Wind.”
“Is that where that went? I thought I’d lost it on one of our flights to D.C.! I didn’t know you were interested in that novel! What did you think of it?”
As we get in the car, pops up front with the hired driver, I laugh, “I wasn’t interested. It was one of Hank’s pranks!”
My parents laugh.
Though May knows the story, she’s swell enough to let me tell it. That’s real polite of her, and I appreciate it. There are only so many stories I can share with Ma that won’t upset her, and I want to be the one to tell them.
While taking May’s hand, I explain how within four months pretty much every sailor on board had read the book. “We all agreed Rhett Butler was a better man than
