December 21, 1941
The choir sang “Just as I Am,” yet Willard hardly heard. His mind remained thousands of miles away as he worried about Andrew. With each day, it grew harder to sleep at night. Visions of what had probably happened to his brother filled what little sleep he managed.
Sailors had survived the sinking of the Oklahoma. But if Andrew lived, why hadn’t they heard anything? Surely, he would have sent a telegram to ease Mother’s and Father’s minds. Andrew did everything by the book and rarely disappointed. That’s why he’d thrived as a sailor.
Willard’s family filled the pew this morning. Father said they needed fellowship with other believers at such a time. Willard wished their clan didn’t take up so much room as the armrest rammed into his side. Pastor Evans stood and walked to the rostrum. Willard vowed to glean something from the sermon rather than focus on Andrew or his favorite girl.
His mother shifted slightly next to him. When she noticed him looking at her, she patted him lightly on the leg. She’d aged several years over the past two weeks. The not knowing could kill her. Surely, God in His mercy would give them an answer so they could grieve or rejoice.
Despite his resolve, Willard scanned the pews in front of him, looking for shoulder-length reddish curls that poked under a felt hat. He sensed her near and longed to see her. The day since their last night out had passed slow as a stubborn bull. Audrey wouldn’t slip away this morning if he could help it. He hoped she didn’t want to slip away. He still needed to talk with Betty, but today he’d simply avoid her. She must understand he’d moved on, since he hadn’t called or spent any time with her recently.
“Let us pray.” Pastor Evans’s booming voice grabbed Willard’s attention.
Father, help me focus on You during the service. Help me. Help my family. Help Andrew, wherever he is. Willard struggled to believe God knew and cared about Andrew.
“Today our text comes from Mark 4:35-41. In it, Jesus performs a great miracle by calming the storm. Many of us find ourselves in a storm we can’t control.”
Willard nodded his head. A storm had overtaken his life. He would capsize if help didn’t come soon. He listened, desperate for a lifeline.
“As I’ve pondered what God has for each of us, this passage made it clear. In the midst of whatever storm we find ourselves in, whether man-made, war-made, or self-made, Jesus stands in our rocking lives and says, ‘Peace, be still.’ To the waves in our lives, He says the same thing He did thousands of years ago. And those waves must obey as surely as they did then. We may not be removed from the battle, but we can walk in peace. Peace despite our circumstances.”
The minutes flew as Willard inhaled the message. He wanted to believe peace waited even when everything was unclear. As the pastor closed with a prayer, Willard prayed silently. Lord, give me Your peace. Speak that peace into my restless heart. He waited, hoping the peace would come. When it didn’t, he shook his head. “Guess I can’t expect a miracle every day.”
“What did you say, son?” His mother leaned closer as they stood.
“Nothing. Hoping some peace finds me.”
“I know. Me too.” She pasted a smile on her face and stepped into the aisle. “Tell your father I’ll be in the fellowship hall when he’s ready to leave.”
Willard searched the crowd for Audrey’s face. There. She stood beside her family’s regular pew. It might as well bear their name. When she looked toward him, he waved. Her smile warmed him through. He controlled his pace as he walked up the aisle to her.
He reached down, and then squeezed her hand. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, Audrey.”
“Why, Mr. Johnson, it’s been one day since the movie. I’m sure you barely had time to miss me.”
“No, ma’am. Every moment is too long when I miss you.”
Audrey’s face blanched, and she looked over his shoulder instead of at him. Willard turned hoping something behind him had caused her reaction.
“There you are, Willard. You’ve been a stranger.”
His stomach dropped at the sound of Betty’s voice. He’d forgotten all about avoiding her. “Hi, Betty. How are you?”
“Better now that I’ve caught up with you.”
Caught. That word said it all. He imagined her tentacles wrapped around his neck, choking the life from him. How could he feel so differently about Audrey?
“So where’ve you kept yourself?”
“Doing the usual.” Just haven’t wanted to see you. Why couldn’t he speak the words and be done with her? “You know Miss Stone don’t you?”
“Hi, Betty.” Audrey looked like she wanted to be anywhere but ensnared in this conversation.
“Hello, Audrey.” Ice poured from Betty’s words like water from the North Platte River.
“Willard, it was nice to see you again. I really need to go find my family. Bye, Betty.” Audrey grabbed her small purse from the pew and walked away before Willard could stop her.
“Betty, why did you do that?” Willard didn’t attempt to hide his frustration.
“She needs to know you’re taken.” She licked her reddened lips lightly, and then smiled at him. “Why don’t we walk down to the King Fong Café for a quick lunch?”
“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. The whole family drove into town, so I have to leave when they’re ready.”
“Surely Roger can drive you back.”
“I’m not interested, Betty. I’m sorry, but my family is more important right now.”
“Your words would be different if Audrey asked rather than me.”
“You’re probably right. But I don’t want to be with you, and my family needs me to go with them.” He looked around the sanctuary and noticed no one stood near them. “Betty, you’re a nice woman, but I’m not interested in anything more than friendship with you. If you want more, you should spend your time with someone else.”
She raised her hand, and he braced himself for whatever she would do. She stopped and flung a coquettish smile his direction.
“If you think you’re the only man in this area, you are sorely mistaken, Mr. Johnson. Don’t deceive yourself into thinking I’m interested in you. Good day.” She turned and flounced down the aisle and out the sanctuary doors.
Willard hoped she’d taken her tentacles with her. He prayed she wouldn’t create a way to make Audrey pay for his actions.
After a late lunch Willard wandered into the Great Room. His father sat in his leather chair and fiddled with the radio dial in an attempt to bring the outside world to the ranch. Willard walked over to the wall beside the fireplace. His kid sister Margaret had tacked a large map of the world on it, determined to track what happened on both fronts of the war. As he examined the pins she’d poked in the map, he focused on the Pacific Theater. He set his jaw and straightened his back against the stab of pain from the sight of the Hawaiian Islands.
He turned from the wall and tried to force the questions from his mind. The questions about whether he’d be allowed to serve it needed? Would he get to play a role in the larger conflict if it reached the United States? The unknown encircled him like a cloud, robbing even the illusion of peace.
“Do you have a moment, Father?” Willard leaned against the stone mantel.
His father turned from the radio and looked at him. “Sure, son. What’s on your mind?”
Willard grabbed a baseball from the mantel and rolled it through his fingers, back and forth between his hands. “Can we talk about Andrew?”
Father looked away. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
“Yes, there is. Father, I’d like your blessing to enlist. I want to do my part, and that can’t be done from here. And ever since Andrew, you won’t even talk about the war, let alone me serving.”
Even before the words escaped Willard’s mouth, his father shook his head.
“You know I can’t give my blessing.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“If I wouldn’t bless Andrew’s enlistment, why do you think I’d give you my permission?”
Willard closed his eyes. Andrew had insisted he’d enlist with or without their father’s blessing. Willard heard the argument as if it occurred in front of him again.
“Dad, my number will be called soon. If I enlist, I can pick the branch I serve in.”
“I won’t have it. No son of mine will join a moment before required. This isn’t our war.” Father turned his back in an attempt to end the discussion.
“Maybe not yet, but that’ll change, Dad. And I’m going to be part of that. So give me your blessing, or I’ll sign up anyway. It’s what I’m supposed to do.” Willard couldn’t remember a time before when Andrew stood firm like that.
“I need you here, son. There’s too much work to have you leave.”
“Dad, I want to do what you ask, but I can’t. Tomorrow, I’ll join the Navy …”
Twelve months later, Willard wondered if Andrew still lived. He’d looked ready for anything in his uniform, taking to his training like a fish to water. All his letters home had glowed with the adventure of traveling the world. Hawaii had been an exotic contrast to the sandhills of Nebraska.
The woody smoke from the fire reminded Willard how far he was from Hawaii. “Did you hear the sermon, Father?”
His father looked at him over his small reading glasses. “I probably heard more of it than you did. I wasn’t distracted by a cute redhead.”
Willard acknowledged Father’s words with a smile and then strode across the room toward him. “I haven’t had any peace since Pearl Harbor. Maybe if I enlist, I’ll be doing my job. I can’t stay here and wait.”
“I respect that, son, but I need you here. I can’t run this ranch by myself. The spread’s too big.”
“Let the other kids help. There are three of them who can work.”
“No. They’re all girls and still in school. I’m not saying no forever, but I am saying no for now. I need you too much.”
Willard wanted to argue. It took all he had to hold his tongue in check. He tossed the ball higher and higher trying to channel his energy on something productive.
“Give it a bit, Willard. We can reevaluate in the spring.”
“Yes, sir.” Willard grabbed his coat from the rack by the back door. He resisted the urge to slam the door shut behind him and walked across the yard. He kicked at snowdrifts as he muttered. He puffed his breath out and inhaled slowly.
Father, I want to honor my earthly father. But I can’t do it right now. I am so mad. Show me what I’m to do in this war. It can’t be staying on the ranch. A feeling he refused to call peace settled on his heart. “I’ll try to wait on you, Lord.”
He fingered the ball he’d shoved in his coat pocket. He couldn’t wait until spring arrived to do his part.