Chapter ­10

Sunday morning the congregation stood as Ivy played the introduction to the hymn on the wheezy organ. The choir wore their black gowns, the women sporting shiny white collars and the men with their white shirts and dark neckties showing. Jack stood with the tenors and Wes towered in the middle of the bass ­bari-tones.

There was a commotion at the back of the church. Jack looked up to see Trevor, Basil and their buddies Cheese and Dexter tiptoe in and slip into the back ­pew.

Most of the congregation turned to glare at the latecomers and then smiled a welcome. It was always a treat having the “boys from away” as the young flyers were called. And it was a long walk into the village, easy enough for them to misjudge the ­time.

The singing began with great gusto. Ivy liked a strong attack on the first line, but even she was taken aback by the powerful voices coming from the back ­pew.

Trevor and Basil sang lustily and by the second verse they’d moved to harmony. By the close of the hymn the whole congregation and the choir looked ready to applaud. None of the other flyers had ever been great singers, in fact none of them could carry a tune in a ­basket.

Dr. McLeod gave the opening prayer and announced the next hymn. Jack found it and looked up. Trevor was grinning at him and waving his hand out in the aisle. Jack tried not to ­laugh.

The sopranos were whispering among themselves. “Can we talk them into joining the choir, do you think?”

“Maybe if we had a couple of young girls.”

Ivy frowned and the sopranos stopped ­talking.

During the sermon Jack’s mind wandered. He’d left Buddy in the back room of the store with a wall of packing cases keeping him out of the store proper. Jack’s mother hadn’t let him sleep in the store with the dog for fear of hoboes or ­burglars.

When Jack had gotten up he’d raced to release the poor pup, who was so glad to see him he piddled. It warmed Jack’s heart to have anyone that glad to see him even though it dampened the floor and he had to mop ­up.

He’d taken Buddy for a walk and a romp on the baseball diamond. He’d tried talking to his mother at breakfast about keeping the dog, but she was too distracted. “I’m sorry, Jack, I can’t deal with this now. The church pays me an honorarium for playing the organ. They deserve good service.”

She had moved on to her usual Sunday instructions. “Polish your shoes. Slick your hair down. Make sure your dad remembers his tie.” Then she’d left for ­church.

Maybe, after all, he should let Trevor and the other boys take Buddy. In a few months he might figure out a way to keep him ­himself.

“Let us pray,” Dr. McLeod interrupted Jack’s reverie. The long prayer covered the king, the queen, the princesses, the prime minister, the armed forces, the sick, the injured, the dying. Jack sighed and thought of ­Sandy.

Arnie Hobbs nudged him. “Pay attention, Jackie, we’re singing the last hymn.”

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After the last chord, Jack ran down the back stairs, dumped his robe on a hanger and raced up the basement steps to greet Trevor and Basil. His mother was already holding Trevor’s elbow as Basil looked ­on.

“Guess who’s joining the choir,” she said happily. “And Basil and Trevor are coming for dinner. The other boys, Dexter and, if I got it right, Cheese, are joining the McLeods.”

“I need my tea,” said Basil. “I missed it, walking to church.”

“Where’s Buddy?” asked ­Trevor.

“In the back room of the store,” said Bill. “Come along, and we’ll let the dog out into the summer air.”

“Have you decided yet?” asked ­Trevor.

“What?” asked ­Jack.

He knew what Trevor wanted but he needed to take his time. Buddy’s whole future depended on this ­decision.

“I’ll keep working on your mom, Jackie, but for now anyway these fellows seem to want Buddy.” Bill led the way to the back of the store and opened the door. The smell of disinfectant soap, candies and pickles wafted out as Buddy tumbled down the steps like a rubber ball with dancing legs and wagging tail. Jack and Trevor knelt to stop his ­escape.

Watching Trevor tussle with Buddy, Jack felt his resolve turn to melted butter. The smile on Trevor’s face as he played with Buddy, the croon in his voice, made up his ­mind.

“I couldn’t find a home for the dog. You can take him.” Then Jack added. “But I have to have visiting privileges.”

“That’s wizard,” said Trevor. He picked Buddy up and carried him a few steps before the wiggling mass leapt out of his arms and led them a merry chase. A flock of sparrows lifted off from the caraganas as they came down the street to the ­house.

The rich smells of baked ham and scalloped potatoes reached Jack and the student pilots as they turned into the back lane. The boys arranged a rope and a stake in the ground. Bill filled a bowl with fresh water from the ­cistern.

Ivy stood behind the screen door. “Make sure he’s tied up securely. I don’t want him getting into the raspberry bushes.”

Everyone trooped into the house, wiping the dust from their feet on the sisal mat. The table was set for Sunday dinner with the Blue Willow china plates and cups. Besides the ham and potatoes that had been cooking while church was going on, there was tomato juice, green relish, bread and butter pickles, sliced white bread and butter and creamed corn. Dad asked grace and everyone passed their plates. Jack snuck a small heel of the ham into his pocket for the pup whining pitifully in the ­backyard.

“So tell me where you received your musical training, boys,” asked Mom. “Do you play instruments as well as sing?”