Radio Mirror: The Magazine of Radio Romances (Jan-June 1945)

But I wore a sling for weeks. There were no children to play with. That was forbidden. They made noise that disturbed my stepfather's drunken sleep. I used to watch them with an aching hurt. ... It was always worse at Christmas-time. How I envied the other kids then! I would pretend there was no twenty-fifth of December. On my calendar you simply skipped from the twenty-fourth to the twenty-sixth. One of my school teachers had given me a kitten once. A beautiful, soft little thing. Steve went down to the creek and drowned it. The day my mother died I walked out of the house. And never went back. But I was mortally afraid of him, of what he could do to me before I was of age. I had hitch-hiked to this town, clear across state from where I was brought up, and changed my name. It would be difficult for him to find Doris Reynolds when he was looking for little Jean Adams. . . . But I still had nightmares in which he discovered me. And I'd wake up clammy with terror, hearing his voice again, "You devil's brat. You're fit for nothing good. . . ." \ THIN, gray mist had crept across **■ Crystal Lake. The snow creaked with cold as I stood up, trembling. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was go back to that cabin. So, slipping and stumbling most of the way, I finally reached the highway and caught a ride back to town. Christmas, I thought bitterly. The same drab day for me, the Lost Day on the calendar. Only this one was worse — because it had given promise of being the most wonderful. "Doris, there's something I want to tell you." Regina and I were alone in the locker room at the store the next morning, and I could not avoid her eyes. She stood in front of me determinedly, blocking escape. "Tom came to our house after he left you yesterday. He didn't say much. He didn't need to. I think he loves you, Doris. But men are stupid sometimes." "Tom has reason to think the way he does," I said thickly. "I don't blame him. But I never want to see him again." "That doesn't make sense." Regina's voice was sharp for the first time since I had known her. "Listen to me, Doris. Pride has no place when you're in love. Bury it. Forget it. And for heaven's sake, stop trying to be a flash-andglitter girl. A hard, calculating little minx. Oh Doris, don't you see what you're doing to yourself?" I stared at her. "I only know that some people get all the tough breaks. And I'm one of them." She turned then, and walked away swiftly. As if she were afraid I might see the wet glisten in her eyes. The days that followed were vague, befogged. Jake Bristol told me I acted like a person walking in her sleep. "Why don't you snap out of it?" he demanded. I asked him wearily how he would suggest I do that. He surprised me then. "You could marry me!" Jake proposing. ... A week ago I might have said "Yes." A week ago he — and his prospects — figured largely in my future. That safe, secured future I was planning for myself in which I was going to insulate my heart! R But now I shook my head. "You M don't want to marry me, Jake. I'm not right for you." He caught my shoulders roughly and pressed me against him. "I'll show you about that!" His kiss was passionate and bruising. I was still under it, unfeeling. After a long moment he let me go. There was black fury in his face. "It's that sergeant. You're seeing him!" "I'm not seeing him. I never expect to again." I walked away, leaving him standing there under the hall light. One evening I went out to Regina's house. She had invited me often before but this was the first time I had gone. Her children were friendly as puppies. After that I dropped in often. One night while they were going through my pockets for candy, Regina looked up over her knitting and said quietly, "I did something today, Doris, that I've been wanting to do since the holidays. I called the camp and asked for Tom Driscoll. But I was too late. He has been transferred already." Hope dies hard. In spite of myself I must have been hoping he would call, for now a bleak chill swept over me. It was that night that I made my decision. I wanted to do something important with my life, something that really counted. Two days later, on my twentieth birthday, I enlisted in the Wacs. As I stood there taking the oath of allegiance, a warm pride filled my heart, as if I were standing shoulder to shoulder with Tom now, working along with him for a cause that was infinitely bigger than ourselves. Ft. Des Moines. Women working together in a way I had never thought possible. Pulling together. Team work. I had had to enlist under my right name, naturally. I was Jean Adams again. But I was no longer afraid. Not of my stepfather nor of anyone. I was part of a great, rolling, victorious juggernaut, the American Army. I applied for overseas' duty — and I had my corporal's stripes when we sailed. None of us was sure of our destination. I hoped it would be Africa. . . . Funny, after so many months, the way I kept remembering little things about Tom. The way a smile came into his eyes first before it touched his lips. His kindness. His voice, taking command that night of the theater fire — and the way I had heard it last. Raw with hurt. "Maybe we expect too much when we come back," he had said. "Out there a man does a hell of a lot of thinking. His values change. Superficial things don't matter anymore. Only the big things. And he comes back hoping — but I guess you wouldn't be interested." 1VTY heart cried out at that. I under -"-*■ stood now what he meant. -A man comes back hoping to find a girl who has grown apace with him, who can answer his needs of the spirit. . . . He's looking for something fine and real. I stood at the rail of the ship, looking down at the gray sea, and it was at that moment that I said goodbye to foolish little Doris Reynolds forever. England! Cold and misty, with a kind of story-book charm. My unit was stationed almost immediately at a base in the quiet countryside. Not far away was a shelter for a group of small refugees from London. Tenement kids with pale, drawn faces, who could watch enemy planes without a flicker. Kids who trailed you with a wistful, "Can I 'ave a piece of gum, chum?" Shortly after our arrival, the com 52 FOR A MERRY CHRISTMAS— Buy WAR BONDS and STAMPS manding officer posted a bulletin: Our unit was giving a Christmas party for our small neighbors. Christmas again. And I didn't even stop to think about it. I just put into it everything I had, because somehow the 'faces of those children reminded me of another small frightened face a long time ago. That Christmas made up for all the others I had lost. Sometimes we have to be taught that giving is getting. . . . We got a plump tank-destroyer captain to play the English version of Santa Claus, and strung holly all over our mess hall where the party was to be held. A special detail hauled in a giant yule log and we were ready. . I'll never forget the expressions of those kids when they saw that array of American G.I. food on the table. One of them poked an orange with a tentative finger and asked, "Is it real?" They hadn't seen oranges in years. They ate so that even our mess sergeant was satisfied. She had worked like a fiend preparing everything. Later, I was running a puppet show in the corner, surrounded by eagereyed kids, when I caught a glimpse of an officer standing in the doorway. A tall officer with a familiar look that made my breath catch. ... He had that independent swing to his shoulders. . . . But of course it couldn't be. I was always imagining things like this. The puppets became entangled at that point, because I was not too expert with them, and I was trying vainly to straighten them out when someone reached over my shoulder and took charge. "I think you do it this way," said a voice in my ear. TT/"E could only stand and look at each " other, with the children pressing around us, pulling my skirt, begging for more. Tom here beside me. I couldn't believe it. He was a lieutenant now, with a D.S.C. pinned on his tunic. And the Purple Heart. ... I had to close my eyes swiftly for a moment. I heard him say to the children, "Okay, kids, one more. What'll it be?" "The Little Brown Bear!" they chorused. And went into peals of laughter when Tom began manipulating the Papa Bear with deep, convincing growls. His eyes, meeting mine, were full of tenderness and something else. Something that made my heart leap. . . . Later, much later, we managed a moment alone in the outside office. Without a word, Tom reached for me and we clung together in an ecstasy that was beyond all time. "But Tom, how did you know I was here?" I said breathlessly, lifting my face. "Regina — God bless her," he said. "She managed to get my address and wrote me about everything you were doing. ... I got here as fast as I could from our base in Dorchester." He drew my face to his again. "Oh my dearest,; what a blind fool I was. . . ." The world was spinning in great, singing arcs. Suddenly, against my cheek, he whispered, "Darling, do you know what day this is?" I nodded happily. "Christmas." "Yes, Christmas," said Tom. "This; is where we came in — and we've got! a lot of unfinished business! Army! weddings take some arranging." I had to say it then. I had to know. "Tom, you've found what you were looking for — that first time?" As long as I live I'll never forget the dearness of his voice when he answered. "I've found more than I ever dreamed of, my darling, right here!" And our kiss was a pledge.