The Yellow Packard (35 page)

Feeling frustrated at not being in control, the father moved back into the room where his wife calmly waited. She’d been with Angel through this whole thing. She held her when the pain was too great to bear and played with her when she seemed completely healthy. During that time Beverly had developed a kind of tranquility he couldn’t fathom. Even now her face looked so peaceful it was almost as if she didn’t have a worry in the world. He couldn’t understand it. Angel’s life was hanging in the balance and that fact evidently hadn’t pushed its way into his wife’s head.

“Why don’t you sit down?” she begged him. “Walking is not doing you any good at all.”

“They’ve opened up my little girl’s head and are operating on her brain,” he said. “Don’t you get that?”

She nodded. “Isn’t it wonderful? A few weeks ago we had no hope at all. We were waiting for her to have one more seizure and die. Now we have hope. I want to embrace that feeling, Nate. Hope is the most wonderful thing in the whole world!”

He eased down beside her. How simple she was. She wasn’t asking for the moon or wishing on a star. She was just giving thanks because she finally had a reason to hope.

And there was real hope, too. Dr. Wiles seemed to believe he could untangle the mass in Rose’s head and make his girl all right again. Yes, the surgeon told them it was risky, but it was a risk worth taking. After all, when you had no hope, even a sliver of hope was worth gambling on. There was that word again.
Hope!

The sound of footsteps on the tile caused him to look up. Standing in the waiting room’s entry was the man who’d once been late to catch a plane. He’d removed his surgical garb and was dressed in dark slacks and a long-sleeved, white shirt. As the couple locked onto him, he raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“Doctor?” Beverly asked as she rose.

“First of all, you have a very strong little girl. Her heart never skipped a beat.”

“Thank God.” Beverly sighed.

“Second, I was able to cut out all the mass. We’ll test it, but it doesn’t appear to be cancerous. I would bet my life it won’t come back either. I don’t think we damaged any parts of her brain in the process. So, if things go well in the next few days, Angel should live a very normal life with only a scar hidden by her beautiful blond hair.”

As Beverly’s eyes filled with tears of joy, a still-worried Nate latched onto something Wiles had just said. “What do you mean
if things go well
? The surgery is over. Wasn’t that the tough part?”

“Yes, it was,” Wiles assured the father, “but the big issue now is infection. We have to make sure that doesn’t happen, and that means keeping her here until she is completely healed. It will likely be two or three weeks until she’s home. But I have no doubt she will get there.”

“Thank you,” Beverly said, reaching out for the man’s hand.

“Amazing,” Nate added.

“What I did today will be the norm in years to come,” Miles assured him.

“I can accept that,” Nate explained. “People put their lives in my hands every time I fly. What’s amazing is that if we hadn’t waited at the gate, without Wiggins going crazy and trying to use the plane to commit suicide, without that landing in that field, none of this would have happened.”

The doctor shrugged. “Maybe there’s a plan behind this. Maybe it was mapped out before the events happened. Maybe each of one of us is a player, and we all had to play our parts in order to save an Angel. In any case, I’m glad I had a part in it.”

He looked each of them in the eyes thoughtfully before he went on. “A mass like this killed my sister twenty years ago. That’s why I am who I am, why I have these skills. As Beverly explained to me last week, your little girl lost her birth folks and ended up being adopted by the pilot who would save my life. There’s something much bigger than us going on here. None of us knows what that is, but I sense it’s not over yet.”

His work done, Wiles smiled then turned and left. As the doctor turned the corner and strolled down the hall, Beverly latched onto Nate’s arm and whispered, “Hope has turned into faith.”

He smiled.
Faith
was another really good word.

Chapter 67

December 7, 1941

I
t was Sunday, and except for the constant rumors of war, there was no reason to go to her office at the White House, so Helen Meeker opted to sleep in. She got up at ten, fixed some toast for breakfast, and went through a stack of mail that she hadn’t opened through the week. One of the nice surprises among all the bills was a Christmas card from Henry Reese. He’d been transferred to Hawaii and used much of the enclosed letter to brag about how beautiful paradise was. Now she was sure he wasn’t going to have a white Christmas, but where she lived the verdict was out on that one, and in truth she wanted snow this year. She wanted anything that would bring a bit of cheer into her lonely life.

Even though everywhere she looked signs of the holidays were around her, she was having problems grasping that Christmas was just two and half weeks away. Yes, the radio was pumping out seasonal favorites, the stores were fully decorated, and Christmas tree lots were sharing space with used car lots, but try as she could, she couldn’t get in the mood. Maybe it was because she had no one to celebrate with. In fact, beyond buying gifts for a few of her fellow staff members at the White House, she didn’t have a reason to go shopping. Maybe even worse was that no one would be remembering her either. The Christmas card from Reese might well be the only really personal and meaningful holiday message to come into her life this year. And then there was the unsolved Rose Hall kidnapping case that still haunted her. Knowing the pain the Halls were going through coupled with the loss of her own sister so long ago had built a wall between her and others. Deep down she didn’t want friends or partners. She didn’t want to get close to someone only to have that person ripped from her.

As she contemplated her loneliness, Meeker brewed some tea, poured herself a cup, wrapped her terry cloth robe tightly around her body, and picked up one of a dozen files she’d brought home yesterday. The one she chose was the profile of a fifty-two-year-old German immigrant. Like all the others in the stack, he was suspected of being a spy.

As she opened the folder she immediately noted that there was nothing menacing about his photo. Put a fake white beard on him and Herman Strauss looked like he could have played Santa at Macy’s. Yet his dossier held pages of reports linking him to suspicious activities in New York City and Boston. As she weeded through the interviews and eyewitness accounts, she was pretty much convinced Strauss very well might be a Nazi plant attempting to form an underground movement in America. At the very least he needed to be brought in and questioned to make sure he wasn’t a part of the fifth column.

Five folders later it was not time nor boredom but hunger that finally pulled her from her work. She couldn’t believe it was already afternoon. How had that happened? Where had the time gone? Setting the files on a coffee table, she got up, switched on the radio and, while its seven vacuum tubes warmed up, walked through her small apartment’s living room to the kitchen. After pulling out some bread, she opened the refrigerator and started searching for something to put on it. Because the radio finally came on, she never finished that simple task. A news reporter’s voice made sure of that.

“Reports are flowing in from several sources now confirming that a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, which is in the Hawaiian Territories, has caused great damage and resulted in great loss of lives. The Japanese struck by air at about eight local Hawaiian time. There was no warning!”

Meeker was so stunned she almost didn’t hear the phone. It was the sixth ring before she managed to cross back into the living room and pick it up.

“Hello.” She paused as she listened to the words coming from her office before saying, “I just heard about it on the radio.” She paused again before adding, “I’ll get dressed and be at the White House as soon as possible.”

Moving to the radio, she cut it off. Whatever her life had been, it was suddenly much different. Being alone at Christmas no longer was the most haunting thought in her head.

Chapter 68

T
here was a special potluck dinner after services at the Oakwood Methodist Church, and Carole had somehow convinced George they needed to go. And even though the ache in his heart from losing his daughter was still deep and raw, he did have much to be thankful for. He was home, doing well at work, and he and Carole were expecting again. Their baby was due in April. This child certainly would not fill the hole left by Rose’s absence, but it would at least bring life and energy back into their home. They so needed both of those things.

Almost everyone had finished eating their choices from the potluck table and were now sitting around the tables catching up on local talk when an expected guest walked into the fellowship hall. His mere appearance at church caused all eyes to turn to the door.

“My goodness,” Beatrice Eicker announced, “don’t go outside. I don’t care how cold it is, lightning might strike you. Sam Johns has actually come to church.”

A half-dozen people laughed, but not for long. Everyone was staring at Johns. He simply didn’t look like himself. The usually fastidious man hadn’t shaved, and he was wearing old, stained, and wrinkled pants and an equally shabby flannel shirt. He wasn’t smiling either. His grim posture bathed the room in an uneasy silence. He moved to the head table, stood beside Reverend Morris, and sized up the crowd. Finally, after more than a minute of awkward silence, he spoke, “I come bearing some very bad news.” His tone was as somber as his message.

“Is someone dead?” Carole Hall asked.

He nodded. “Many are. The Japanese hit Pearl Harbor today. They bombed our Navy yards.”

“Where’s that?” one woman asked.

A man yelled out, “California.”

“No,” Johns corrected him. “Pearl Harbor is a Navy base in Hawaii. Jap planes hit us this morning. Radio reports state that thousands were killed, and there was evidently much damage done to American ships. I am hearing that other Pacific bases are being hit as well.”

Johns took another deep breath. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are at war!”

Almost instantly, a host of people picked up their belongings and headed out the door. One of the first were the Halls. Neither Carole nor George noticed the stiff breeze or the near freezing temperatures as they walked in stunned silence to their home. It was only when they were inside and were removing their coats that Carole posed the question she dared not think, much less speak. “What does this mean?”

George shook his head. “It changes everything. I’m sure I’ll end up in the service somewhere. I’m sure, since Germany and Italy are allies of Japan, that we’ll be fighting them as well.”

“No,” Carole whispered. “You can’t leave me again.”

“I’ll put it off as long as I can,” he promised. “Hopefully I’ll be here when the baby comes. But I won’t have a choice. They’ll need men like me. I’ll have to go when they call. You have to understand that.”

She shook her head and sighed. “Why now?”

Chapter 69

J
anet Carson had not moved from in front of her radio since she’d heard the first news bulletin. She thought of her late Aunt Abbi, who had visited all the nations involved in what had suddenly become a World War, and how she would have been fascinated by this turn of events. In fact, that wise old lady had even predicted there would be another war not long after Hitler had come to power in 1933.

Like her aunt, Janet was not blind to what was going on over there; she’d been reading between the lines in the newspapers and listening closely to political speeches. For those who wanted to acknowledge reality, it was obvious America had been inching toward this point for some time. It was just she didn’t expect the plunge into war would be due to an attack on an American base. She’d figured it would be the Nazis taking out an American ship. And it was a shame that it had happened so close to Christmas. She would have students whose fathers or brothers would be leaving for war just before Santa arrived. That wouldn’t make for a merry anything.

It was two hours after the first report aired that her phone rang. She immediately recognized her cousin Jim’s voice.

“Guess you know about what the Japanese did today?” She was surprised there was no sense of shock or sadness in his tone.

“Yes,” she replied. “It’s horrible.”

Jim agreed, “Going to mess up a bunch of lives, that’s for sure. Thank goodness I can’t pass a military physical. At least I won’t be putting my life on the line. But the good news is there should be some money to be made in it, too. I’ve been looking at which companies will likely be ramping up weapon production, and I think I have figured a way to make some real cash. I just called to see if you wanted to invest some of your savings, too. This could be a real opportunity!”

“You’re serious?” she asked. “The world’s falling apart, thousands, maybe millions are going to die, this country might not win the war, and you’re thinking about making money?”

“You’ve got to be logical,” he explained. “You’re a teacher—you know your history well enough to understand that fortunes are made by war. I want to be one of those making the big bucks.”

“James, how can you be so selfish?”

“Don’t lecture me,” he snapped. “Just remember when I come out of this living high on the hog that I gave you a chance to change your address, too.”

“You’re living pretty well right now,” she shot back. “Besides, what makes you think you won’t pass a physical? Except for being fat you look pretty healthy to me.”

He laughed. “I’ve got a doctor who’ll make sure I don’t pass my physical. I’m not going anywhere. The men with brains or wealth never go to war.”

“Some kind of
man
,” she sniped.

“I’m the smartest kind of man,” he answered. “I figure out the best thing for me, and I’m going for it. I don’t let little things like being a patriot get in my way like you do.”