Chapter 20
Morgan got his pilot’s license on December 3rd, 1941. The country went to war within the week, and without asking my opinion, Morgan joined the Marines. He was among the first to be shipped out. Since he was already a pilot, the U.S. Armed Forces were especially happy to welcome him into their ranks. When he wired me the news, I was angry. “He might have at least asked me,” I fumed to Ruby.
“He might have,” she replied, “but if he had, he wouldn’t be Morgan. Besides, he’d never have thought for a moment you’d want him to hesitate in doing the right thing. All the boys are joining up. Did you raise Morgan to be less courageous than they are?”
“Of course not, it’s just that ... What if something happens to him?” I whispered. “I couldn’t bear it.”
Ruby’s voice softened. “I know, but we can’t show our feelings. It won’t help anything if we let him see we’re worried.” When I saw my friend wipe a tear on the corner of her apron, I wondered if she would be able to heed her own advice. Then she took a deep breath, smiled, and we both laughed through our tears.
“All right, now.” Ruby said. “Enough of that. He’s going to be fine. Let’s forget all this foolishness and get back to work.”
Morgan stayed at school long enough to finish his exams, no point in losing a whole semester’s work, and came home flying his own plane just three days before he had to report to boot camp.
It was a strange visit, all joy and apprehension and silver tinsel; Morgan was filled with excitement and fear and feigned bravado; Mama and Ruby and I were trying to pretend it was a normal holiday, but knowing it was much more precious than that. Ruby must have given him a dozen pairs of socks. “I hear it gets cold in Germany,” she said.
Mama gave him a pair of leather gloves and Papa’s gold watch, the one she’d been saving for him until he graduated college. We were all in a hurry to show him how we felt. It seemed urgent not to hold back anything in those days. I gave him the quilt I had carried to Des Moines. “I don’t know if they’ll let you keep it on your bed in the army,” I said, “but maybe you can hide it under your regular blanket, and it’ll remind you of home a little. Be careful with it, now. If you take care, it should last a lifetime.”
“It’s beautiful, Mama. Look, there’s you and me, standing next to the house.” He smiled at the tiny figures. “But who is flying the plane?”
“Well, that’s you, too,” I lied. “It’s a dream quilt, the boy you were and the man you’ve become.”
“Mama, you are some kind of artist.” He leaned down and gave me a smacking kiss on the forehead. He was now grown so tall that kissing me on the cheek required a deep bend at the waist. “Don’t you worry, Mama. I’ll bring it back all in one piece, I promise.”
We took special pains with Christmas dinner, but the food tasted like chaff in my mouth. Before I could blink it was time for Morgan to leave.
I drove him out to the airfield the next day to say good-bye to the plane before he had to rush off and catch the southbound train. Whitey had agreed to keep an eye on it for him until he got back.
Morgan walked around and around the plane, kicking the tires affectionately, checking the struts, and stroking the wings. “She sure is a beauty.” He sighed, patting the fuselage lovingly. “Thank you, Mama, for getting her for me. I’m just sorry I didn’t get to take you up in her. As soon as I get back, we’ll go for a ride. I want you to know your money wasn’t wasted.”
“It’s a date,” I answered as cheerfully as I could manage. “I’m saving all my dances for you.”
“How about just one,” he said seriously. “It’d be all right with me if you had somebody besides me to dance with. You deserve to have someone around who appreciates you, Mama. Know what I mean?”
“I know.” I nodded my understanding. “Maybe someday.” I felt how the scales between us were changing a bit and knew the weight of worry was no longer tipped all on my side.
Morgan sighed deeply, took a last look around, and slapped his hand hard against his thigh with cheery finality. “Well, I guess we’d better be going if I’m going to make my train. Don’t want to be late and catch hell from the drill sergeant the very first day.” He made sounds of leaving, but still he waited. “Funny, all my life I wanted to get away from Dillon and go out into the world, but just now I’d give anything to stay.” I didn’t have to tell him I felt the same way.
It was cold, standing on the platform waiting for the train. So cold. I couldn’t even feel my feet. Couldn’t feel anything. As the train pulled slowly out of the station, Morgan leaned out a window and shouted above the whoosh of steam and squeaking metal, “Don’t forget, Mama! As soon as I get back we’re going flying. Wait till you see Dillon from the air. It’s beautiful!”
“I know! I love you!” I shouted back. I tried to run alongside the car to keep him in sight a moment longer, but my cane slowed me down and the platform ran out much too soon. There was no way to keep up with him.