Chapter ­18

Later that afternoon, as Jack was cleaning up, Trevor came into the ­shop.
“Looks like Cheese is washing out. He got called on the carpet this afternoon. It was his second problem flight. He’d been warned before but never told us. He’ll be shipped out to a school for navigators.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Pretty broken up. We’ve been together since basic training, the four of us.”

“Anything I can do?” asked Jack. He couldn’t begin to imagine how devastated Cheese would ­be.

“Well, we better have a really good party tonight in Moose Jaw.”

“We’ll hit all the hot spots.” Jack laughed. Not that he’d be able to go into beer parlours or the like. He’d leave that to the older ­guys.

“I’ve been thinking. I should be able to take you up in the next week or so, if you’re game.”

“What if we get caught? Wouldn’t you get washed out too?”

“Well, we just can’t get caught.” Trevor headed for the ­door.

>>>

Jack, Wes and Cathy and the four airmen piled into the jalopy and headed into Cairn after work, with Cathy on Basil’s lap and Dexter and Cheese perched on top of Wes, who complained about his legs going to sleep under the ­weight.

Jack went into the store and asked his parents for the loan of the truck. “I could pick up supplies at the wholesaler at the same time,” he ­suggested.

Ivy said no. Bill said ­yes.

“What happened to your face?” his mother asked as she walked toward the storeroom at the back of the ­store.

“I fell getting off the tractor.” Sort of true, he thought, except he’d had help falling. Mom pursed her lips but didn’t ­comment.

“That’s quite a bruise,” his dad reflected as Ivy moved out of earshot. “Looks more like a punch to the nose.” He sat on the captain’s chair with his feet up on a milk crate. “Who did it?”

Jack mouthed, “Jimmy Boyle,” and his dad ­nodded.

Bill Waters got up slowly and headed toward the back of the store. “I’ll talk to your mother, Jack. We do need supplies. Give me a couple of minutes.”

Jack went out to the porch where the other young people stood talking to Arnie and Mel Hobbs about the trip to ­town.

“I hear the townies and the air force have been mixing it up,” Arnie ­said.

“Yeah,” Mel said, “seems the town fellas think the airmen have taken all the beautiful girls.”

Jack thought of Basil and Cathy. He knew one flyer who had the best girl in his ­village.

“You watch out while you’re in town. I mean it,” Mel went ­on.

“And remember, Jackie boy,” said Arnie, serious for a change, “courage is not a gift: courage is a decision.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“Looks like Jackie’s been in a bit of a brawl himself,” laughed ­Mel.

Jackie warned the twins not to say anything and told his story about his confrontation with Jimmy ­Boyle.

Finally Jack’s parents came out to give their permission plus an extension of his curfew to eleven p.m., seeing as he was going to get supplies for the store. Mom started her safety lecture and Bill handed out liquorice twists. Dexter and Cheese strolled back from the pharmacy. Cheese looked really glum. He and Dexter climbed into the back seat of the jalopy with Wes, behind Basil and Cathy. They left first. It seemed that Basil was in a hurry, as usual. Jack climbed into the truck’s narrow seat and Trevor sat on the passenger side, having moved the pile of candy wrappers, mail and bills from the seat. The truck was Jack’s dad’s responsibility, so it was not the ­tidiest.

Jack headed east down Railway Avenue toward Moose ­Jaw.

“I was thinking about home,” Trevor said. “London is a great city, full of bustle and business, but there’s something special about a small place like this.” He took out his meteorology notes to study for a test the next day. “I’m going to miss Cairn – your mother’s cooking, you and Wes.”

For some reason Jack felt a lump in his throat. He put his foot on the gas to pass a hay wagon. He needed to get a move on – Basil had driven off and disappeared down the highway before Bill had finished giving Jack directions and a cheque for the wholesaler. The two carloads were meeting at the Ambassador Café for supper at 6:30 ­p.m.

Trevor put away his notes. “Why don’t we plan our trip? I can land at the emergency field at Bushell Park. You can drive Sandy’s car and meet me there. We’ll go for a spin in a Moth. It’ll be a lark.”

Jack hesitated. His mother would have a fit if she ever found ­out.

“You want to go up again, don’t you?”

“What do you think?”

“It’s a deal, then.” Trevor caught a fly on the wing and tossed it out the ­window.

Jack drove to the wholesaler’s first. Trevor helped Jack load the cartons of tinned foods and cereals, along with wooden crates of soda and packets of candy. They threw a canvas tarp over the boxes and tied it ­down.

“Haven’t seen your dad for a while,” said the owner as Jack paid the ­invoice.

“His back’s acting up. Mom’s running things for now.”

“I don’t think your dad really likes retail. Wasn’t he a travelling salesman first?”

“I don’t know. I was only five when Grandpa died and Dad took over the store.”

“Old Waters was a fine fellow. He sure was broken up when his oldest son came home from the war the way he did. Don’t think he ever got over it.”

“You mean Uncle Jack or Grandpa?”

“Both of them. That young man had seen too much. Must have been hard on Ivy. Such a lively girl. Talented too, and pretty as a picture. A Chautauqua girl. I heard her sing, did she tell you?”

His mother, a lively girl, a real beauty? Jack couldn’t believe his ears. This big, bald man with thick arms, sporting a tattoo on his right bicep, knew more about his family than he ­did.

“She plays the organ and leads the choir at the United Church.”

“Jack played the piano and saxophone, did you know that? They played duets until he went to war.”

Trevor honked the horn of the old truck. Jack hesitated, took the receipt from the guy and turned to go. He had a mass of questions skittering around his brain like a bucket of baseballs dumped on the diamond during ­practice.

“It was a shame what happened.”

“Yeah, it was.” He didn’t have the nerve to tell the guy he didn’t know what had happened and he was afraid to ask. What you don’t know can’t hurt you. That’s what his dad would ­say.

“What took you so long?” Trevor asked. “Was that fellow telling you his life story or something?”

Jack didn’t ­answer.