Whispers of a New Dawn (28 page)

Lyyndaya finished the banana and reached for the pitcher of pineapple juice. “Flapjack had all this music blaring, he always celebrates a bit when it’s Friday, and I was sure Ruth would complain, but do you know what she did? My Ruth? She knew the words to that song Judy Garland sings, ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ and started to sing along. Not loud. But she’s always had a pure, strong voice. Everyone could hear her. Then it was ‘You Are My Sunshine’ and Billie Holiday’s ‘God Bless the Child.’ She knew more of the songs by heart than Flapjack did, than anyone did. How is that possible? What has happened to my Amish sister?” She poured the juice into her glass.

Becky didn’t know what to say. “Where was I when all this was happening?”

“You were up. Or gone. A lot took place after you were gone.” She sipped at the juice and smiled at Jude. “And you too, my dear. The best thing of all happened after you left.”

“And what was that?” he asked.

“Nate showed up with Thunderbird. Flying the P-36.”

“No kidding!”

“They circled the field twice. Threw the canopy back so we could see who was doing what. And Nate had the stick. He brought her in. A little wobbly. A little flat. But he made the landing. He was all smiles. It did my heart good.
Gott sei gelobt
.”

“No one—came back with you?” asked Becky. “Not Nate? Or Thunderbird? Why not?”

“Oh, Wizard and Lockjaw showed up to whisk Kalino and Hani away for hot dogs at the Black Cat and then off to the movies. Batman and Shooter and Whistler were supposed to meet them there. Some sort of double feature along with a Bugs Bunny cartoon.
Maltese Falcon
and a movie about General Custer, it has Errol Flynn in it—”

Jude put his hand over Lyyndaya’s. “You’ve had quite an evening. So where’s Nate?”

“Nate and Thunderbird borrowed some of Flapjack’s fuel and took off again. Like a pair of brothers. Headed out to Pearl and the open sea. They’d heard the
Enterprise
had left port.”

“It did. Along with an escort.”

“So what does that mean? Is there trouble somewhere?”

“It’s just a weekend training exercise.”

“Yes?” Lyyndaya glanced at her daughter. “Why so glum?”

“I’m not glum.”

“I come in here at attack speed and I haven’t even asked you two how you are.”

“I’m okay, Mom. Just a little bowled over at the idea of Aunt Ruth dancing and singing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow.’”

“She wasn’t dancing.”

Jude cleared his throat. “Becky and I were discussing our Amish church in Paradise when you flew through the doorway. She was asking if I missed the people and the Amish way. So I said, yes, there are some things I miss, some people I miss very much. But honestly, I wouldn’t trade them for training these young people and helping all the American people, not just the Amish ones. I told her you felt the same way I did.”

Lyyndaya stared at her daughter. “Your father is right about that.”

“I could tell when you barreled in here, Mom.”

“Are you angry because I’m happy?” Lyyndaya asked. “Because Ruth and Nate are happy? I thought you were happy.”

“I…am…I guess I am—”

“What’s happened? Is it Thunderbird?”

“Yes. Of course it’s Thunderbird. He’s turned me inside out. Even when he doesn’t mean to.”

“What did he say that has hurt you so much?”

“He said he loves me.”

Lyyndaya blinked. “Excuse me?”

“He loves me. He told me he loves me.”

Lyyndaya looked at Jude and then back at Becky. “And this hurts you? How?”

“I…I can’t say it back…”

“You don’t have to say it back right away.”

Becky’s face filled with blood. “I’ll never say it back. I can’t.”

“Shh, shh.”

“I thought we might return to Pennsylvania. So I can get away from him. Stop breaking his heart. It hurts me to break his heart, Mom; he’s such a great guy, but I need to leave.” She ran her hands back through her hair and the tears started. “But now you all want to stay here. Ruth, Nate, you and Dad, no one wants to be Amish anymore. No one will come back to Paradise with me. I don’t know what else to do.”

Lyyndaya got up and pulled her chair over beside her daughter and took her in her arms. “All right. All right. Even if no one is going to jump on a boat with you and head to San Francisco, that doesn’t mean we don’t care or won’t do all we can to help you.”

“How can anyone help me when I can’t even help myself?”

“That’s usually when we do need help, my girl.”

“I have no idea what would help. I want to love him but I can’t. I want to look into his beautiful blue eyes and say, ‘I love you,’ but I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“There’s just a block, that’s all. Dad’s prayed with me. I’ve prayed. But I just can’t.”

“But it is Moses, isn’t it?” Her father’s voice was quiet.

“No, it’s not Moses—I told you, I’m over Moses, I don’t know what it’s about.”

“You loved Moses and he died. If you love Christian he will die too.”

“I don’t—”

“But you can go back to Paradise. Go back to the Amish. Go back to Bishop Zook. Take your vows. Be baptized. Perhaps you’ll find peace. Perhaps Christian will be spared. And if Christian is spared then your heart will be spared also.”

Becky didn’t reply. She sobbed into her mother’s shoulder as if she were twelve. Lyyndaya began to rock her and whispered, “Do you really think this is what God does? Do you really think you must scheme like this trying to make sure the man you love won’t be taken away a second time?”

“I don’t know…In my head, I know, but in my heart…”

“Do you honestly think God wants less love in the world? In this violent and hate-filled world? Do you think the God of love who loves you and this whole earth does not want you to love a man he also loves and who he put in your life to touch your heart and your soul? Didn’t God heal you of the loss of Moses, and wasn’t this man part of your healing? This man you love? Do you truly think God wants to take him away from you? Or does he want the two of you to put more love on the earth?”

“Mom, I can’t—”

Lyyndaya hugged her daughter more tightly and kissed her hair. “Raven is the man you love. And he is the man God loves.”

T
WENTY
-O
NE

H
ey. Batman.”

Raven lifted the comic book off Batman’s face. The sudden rush of sunlight failed to make him open his eyes.

“What happened?” Raven flipped through the comic book. “The adventures of Batman and Robin put you to sleep?”

“No.”

“Come on. Get up. Skipp’s briefing us in the hangar in five.”

Batman opened one eye. “We at war?”

“We’re at Christmas—almost. Less than a month to go. He wants to hold a big dinner and dance, and you get to swing down on a rope and snatch up the prettiest girl.”

Batman opened both eyes and grinned. “That would be Becky then. Would you mind?”

“Me mind? No, I’d have the Christmas spirit. Jolly and fat and ho-ho-ho. You need to ask if Becky would mind. Remember what happened to Lockjaw.”

Batman had been slumped in a deck chair near the runway. He climbed to his feet and stretched. “I met a sweet little nurse who works at the naval hospital. Think I’ll stick with her instead.”

They began to walk.

“What were you doing at the naval hospital?” asked Raven.

“Getting blood drawn.”

“For what?”

“I was doing a medical.”

“Your army medical not good enough?”

“Not for the navy. Did you see that Abbot and Costello film
In the Navy
?”

“Missed it.”

“Well, if you’d seen it that would explain the whole thing.”

Raven glanced at him. “Are you looking to transfer over to flattops?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When are you going to get your carrier training?”

Batman put on his aviator sunglasses. “All in due time. Today I’m still on army time. Let’s see what the old man has to say.”

“I thought Lockjaw was going to make the transfer.”

“I bumped into him at the hospital. He had Kalino in tow. Guess he can’t give blood without her.”

The others were seated on chairs with their backs to the open doors of the hangar. Billy Skipp was sketching out a pattern on a chalkboard, rapping the chalk down sharply to make dots when he wasn’t drawing in a line or a circle.

“Good of you to join us.” Skipp broke his piece of chalk and picked up a fresh one. “So the concern is saboteurs. That’s why the P-40s are being placed in the middle of the airfield—we’re kind of stacking them. That way an enemy agent can’t sneak out to the edge of the strip one night and damage all our fighters. The sentries can see what’s going on easily enough when all the Warhawks are out on the open and in the same place.”

“Who’s the enemy?” asked Shooter.

“Who do you think? Mussolini.”

The pilots laughed. Raven raised his hand to shoulder height. “Sir. What about the P-36s?”

Skipp dusted his hands off by slapping them together. “I know you like your kite, Thunderbird. But saboteurs aren’t going to go after them. They’re almost museum pieces. The P-40s are our first concern.”

“I told you,” whispered Wizard. “You’re just a target balloon for the Zeros.”

Raven grunted. “Shut up, Haircomb.”

Skipp broke into the fresh wave of laughter. “Speaking of Zeros,
let’s see how you guys are doing with aircraft identification.” He turned to a flip chart set up on an easel and pointed. “Wizard?”

“That’s the Zero, sir, that’s the Zeke.”

“More, please.”

“Mitsubishi A6M. Currently, so far as we know, the A6M2, Type 0, Model 21. Maximum speed more than three hundred miles per hour. Two machine guns in the engine cowling, seven-point-seven millimeter. Two cannon in the wings, twenty millimeter. Fast and maneuverable.”

“Very good.” Skipp tapped the chart. “Juggler. What about this?”

“Um. I’d guess the Kate, sir.”

Skipp’s eyebrows lifted as high as anyone had seen them. “You’d guess?”

“Uh. It
is
the Kate, sir.”

“And what does that mean, Lieutenant?”

“It means…B5N, sir. Nakajima B5N.”

“What’re its weapons, Juggler?
Hashi
—chopsticks?”

Juggler reddened while the others laughed. “Torpedoes, sir. It’s a torpedo bomber.”

“Thank you.” Skipp’s eyes darkened. “Okay, Lockjaw, our latest defector, if you think flying off carriers in an ocean swell is duck soup, why don’t you tell us what this is?” Skipp’s face was tight.

Lockjaw protested. “I’m army all the way, Colonel.”

“Is that right? Well, I have to approve all transfer of personnel to other units, so maybe you and I had better have a chat after this briefing.”

“Yes, sir.”

Skipp scanned the group. “That goes for any of you who are thinking of going Navy. Anybody who wants to fly Grummans when they could be flying P-40s. See me first. Or you may be surprised by what’s in your sock this Christmas. Understood?”

As one, the pilots responded, “YES, SIR!”

“That’s given you enough time to think. What’s the silhouette, Lockjaw?”

“The, uh, the…” Lockjaw seemed flustered by Skipp’s aggressiveness. “The Val, Colonel. The Aichi D3A. Dive bomber.”

“Tell me more, navy boy.”

“It…uh…it…has a maximum speed of two hundred forty-two miles per hour. Ceiling of thirty thousand five hundred feet. Uh—two machine guns in the wings, seven-point-seven millimeter. One facing the rear, manned by a gunner, also seven-point-seven millimeter.”

“Range?”

“Range? Range is—is something like nine hundred miles.”

Skipp’s eyes slitted. “Something like?”

“Nine hundred and change, sir.”

“How many nautical miles?”

Lockjaw chewed furiously on a Chiclet. “I don’t know that, sir.”

“You want to be a naval aviator and you don’t know nautical miles, Lockjaw?”

“No, sir.”

“Exactly seven hundred and ninety-five. Even a dumb army officer knows that, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Skipp tapped the chart with his piece of chalk. “You haven’t said a thing about the payload.”

“Uh…I…I’m not sure—”

“Not sure?”

“No, sir, I—”

“A five-hundred-and-fifty-one pounder, sir.” Raven’s voice was clear. “Or a couple of hundred-and-thirty-two pound bombs.”

“Thank you, Thunderbird. I don’t recall asking for your help.”

“You didn’t need to, sir. I’m Lockjaw’s wingman. It’s my duty to cover him in all combat situations. I don’t need to be told to do that.”

Skipp stared at Raven. His eyes were made of rock. Then a slow smile made its way across his face. “That is correct. Thank you for reminding me of that, Lieutenant Raven.” He turned back to the chart. “We’ll cover the scouting aircraft in a moment. Let’s go back to the Zeke, the Zero.” He drew a white circle around its silhouette on the chart with his chalk. “The A5M wasn’t that hard for the Chinese to bring down using their Russian-built aircraft. But in August 1940 the A6M2 saw action in Chungking and totally dominated the
skies, bringing down Polikarpov I-16s and I-153s with ease. In one engagement thirteen A6M2 Zeros flamed twenty-seven I-15s and I-16s in less than three minutes without losing a plane. I kid you not. Of course they have yet to meet up with British or American fighters. Maybe Washington will make peace with Tokyo and the Japanese and American fighter pilots will never meet. But my hunch is we’ll be seeing action in the new year.”