Runny03 - Loose Lips (23 page)

“Yep.”

“I’m going to make mild orange blossoms because you’re sick. You’ll get drunk as a skunk if you aren’t careful.” Louise measured out the gin, pouring it into a tall glass tumbler, then she added the orange juice and gently mixed the concoction. Finally she poured the bright liquid into martini glasses, which Chester brought out for the occasion.

“Does this mean I’m going to get drunk and you’re going to leave me?” Juts imploringly asked her husband.

“No, it means we’ll have our own party.” He put on a hat.

Louise put one on, then bent down to fix up Buster, who shook his head and tried to work it off. He finally did. Yoyo eyed Louise with suspicion. Louise didn’t try to put a hat on her.

Juts picked out a purple hat with a little tassel on it, bright
green. “Junior McGrail’s colors,” she joked. She held up her glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers and a happy, healthy New Year.” Louise lifted her glass, which she didn’t drink from because she was sticking to her story of not drinking alcohol. Occasionally, she’d forget but tonight was one of her virtuous nights.

“Louise—” Juts motioned for her to drink.

“No, I think I’ll pour a glass of orange juice.”

“You won’t be needing this, then.” Chester knocked back her drink.

A honk outside sent Louise to her feet. “All right, Sister, you have a happy New Year, get better.”

“I’ll be good enough to work on Friday, don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

“Happy New Year, Chester.” Louise kissed him on the cheek, bent over and kissed Juts, then zipped out the door.

“You aren’t going?”

Chester shook his head no, then added, “Wouldn’t be any fun without you.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He turned on the old radio. They sang along, whipped around their noisemakers, which made Buster bark. Yoyo ignored the whole undignified procedure. Chester didn’t feel like an unfaithful husband. It was curious, but somehow he loved Juts more than he had before.

At midnight he walked out with a big pot and ladle to bang in the New Year. She hollered “Happy New Year,” and then promptly fell asleep.

E
xcept for Pearl Harbor, the war still seemed far away, but each time Juts scrambled across the slippery walks in the square, or hunched her shoulders to ward off the cold as she bought more doughnuts from the Yosts, she saw fewer and fewer young men.

Albert Barnhart, Lillian Yost’s younger brother, was the last to enlist. He joined the Coast Guard. He kidded the sisters Hunsenmeir by saying he did it so he could get a free haircut and Lillian could get her nails done.

Not wishing to seem less patriotic than that fat load on the other side of the square, Juts and Louise had run a big, expensive ad in the
Clarion
and one in the
Trumpet
, too, announcing free haircuts for servicemen and manicures at half price for the wives, mothers, sisters, and girlfriends of same. The place was mobbed.

Celeste, under heavy pressure from both mayors, agreed to head up the Red Cross, which meant endless fund-raising. Chessy, in response, assumed more duties for the Civil Air Patrol. His Tuesday-night dance lessons continued. He occasionally walked Buster to Trudy’s little apartment but he couldn’t make a habit of that.

The Civil Air Patrol attracted Louise, Fannie Jump Creighton, Lillian Yost, Agnes Frost, and the entire BonBon family over the age of eighteen. Digby and Zeb Vance and O.B. Huffstetler were the only men. Chessy had to train Runnymede’s X
two sheriffs as well. Celeste pressured her connections in Washington for the latest in training films.

Training proved more rigorous than the volunteers had anticipated. Juts and Louise easily mastered Morse code but Lillian Yost had a hell of a time with it.

Turned out in their Army-surplus uniforms from the 1914 war, they drilled with wooden rifles until blistered. Fannie Jump bitched that drilling was absurd. Their job was to identify aircraft and lead civilians to safety in the event of bombing. In a fit, she threw down her wooden rifle. Chester, in his deepest baritone, told her to pick it up. She did and marched some more. Seeing Chester bark out that order to Fannie impressed everyone.

The patrol members concentrated fiercely during the film sessions. They watched German, Japanese, and Italian planes. The films showed each side of the machines, the underside and the topside.

Posters of silhouettes of planes as seen from the ground were tacked onto the walls of their small office in the Lutheran church. Chessy gave pop quizzes on what they learned, including enemy insignia, the black cross with white lines for the German aircraft and the red sun on the Japanese aircraft.

Each night two people pulled duty. Day duty was much easier because one could see the aircraft. Chessy, overrun with women wanting to contribute, discovered he was respected by people. They wanted to work with him. He was surprised and pleased.

Despite all their training, identifying a plane in the night sky by shape alone was difficult.

Chester found a big antiaircraft gun and an antiaircraft light in a salvage yard outside of Philadelphia. From the Great War, they still worked. The arrival of the antiaircraft equipment was a triumphant moment for Chessy and his CAP’s. A heated argument flourished in the basement of Christ Lutheran’s, where the meeting took place, over whether to place it by the fire tower or set it
up in Runnymede Square. Louise wanted the antiaircraft and light gun in the square because it was easier for her to walk there, although she declared it would be a reminder to everyone that a war was on.

Caesura and Agnes wanted it by the fire tower, closer to their homes.

Finally, Digby stood up, lifted his band baton, and asked for silence. He suggested using a crane and lifting the antiaircraft light into the fire tower; that way the two CAP’s would be together, which would help if the worst happened. He felt certain that an enemy plane would zoom down on the light, trying to knock it out, so the gun had to be there also. If the operator was injured the other CAP could take over.

Louise argued her program was better. If an airplane went after the tower, both CAP’s would get it. If the troops were divided, maybe one person would survive. She also pointed out that the fire tower had a roof, which would shut off part of the light beam.

Chester finally quieted the group by telling them that if a plane flew over, it would most likely be a reconnaissance plane. Their task was to report it immediately to Col. Frank Froling at the armory in Hagerstown.

Louise hollered out that it might be more than reconnaissance—after all, look what had just happened in Hawaii. And what was the CAP doing in the armory?

Patiently, Chester explained that special phone lines in the armory were connected to Baltimore and to Washington. Given the jolt the country had just endured, the Civil Air Patrol was well organized, even if HQ was in an armory.

Louise still wanted the big light in the square. The feuding rolled into the night. Digby Vance, tired and disgusted, suggested they let Colonel Froling make the decision.

Chester said no because then the colonel would lose confidence in them. They had to settle this themselves. At one in the morning
they reached a compromise: They would build a new tower with no roof in the vacant lot behind St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. While that was being built, the light and gun would be placed in the center of the square, straddling the Mason-Dixon line. The big air-raid siren stayed in the fire tower while the new tower was being built. Chester prayed the new tower would be quickly completed and fortunately it was. Everything was then put in the tower.

M
onday’s hustle and bustle was damped by the news that Singapore had fallen to the Japanese. General Percival, without water, food, gas, or ammunition, surrendered. As people huddled at the counter of Cadwalder’s or squeezed into a booth for breakfast, they wondered how they could become mobilized fast enough to stop the Japanese steamroller and the German juggernaut. The
Clarion
estimated that sixty thousand British and Imperial troops had been captured, while the
Trumpet
put the figure at a more modest fifty thousand. Everyone wondered what would happen to the captured men.

Julia Ellen and Louise, worn out from Civil Air Patrol duty that frozen night, sipped coffee, ate grits, eggs, bacon, and biscuits, and slowly warmed up.

“I’ll be glad when spring gets here,” Juts moaned. “My Orioles have to be better this year.” Juts didn’t like to stay on the subject of the war for long.

“Nothing can be as bad as last year,” Flavius offered from behind the counter. “Birds sank to a new low.”

“So many of the ballplayers have enlisted,” Harper Wheeler chimed in.

The night owls on their way home to bed and the early-morning birds coexisted at Cadwalder’s every morning at five-thirty. O.B. Huffstetler came in and sat next to Harper.

“Morning, Sheriff.”

“Morning, O.B. Don’t guess Miss Chalfonte is going to ride today.”

“Nope. Monday’s our quiet day.”

“When you gonna give me a ride in that big-ass station wagon?” Juts called from the booth.

“Anytime.”

“Goody. You can carry us home.”

“Juts, that’s pushy.”

“I know, but …”

“Don’t mind a bit.” O.B. smiled. “Hop in.”

“Sheriff,” Louise called.

“Yessum.”

“Nothing on Noe’s file?”

“Now, Louise, I can’t discuss certain aspects of the case.”

Juts piped up. “You ought to talk to Hansford. He’s got nothing to do but repair tack, talk, and think. The thinking’s what surprises me.”

They settled back to their food. Louise read aloud from Walter Winchell’s syndicated column as Juts ordered more biscuits and grits.

Junior McGrail trooped in.

Trudy Archer dashed in, bundled up in a long chocolate-brown coat with dyed rabbit-fur trim. The men sat a little straighter at the counter. She threw off her hat, fluffed her hair, and unbuttoned her coat. She slipped in between Harper Wheeler and Junior. Good thing she was skinny.

“Hi.”

“Hi, there. What will it be this morning?” Flavius asked, a big smile on his face. He looked like his son when he smiled.

“Over easy …”

Harper purred, “That’s what I like to hear.”

Juts called out from her booth, “Don’t listen to him. All talk. No action.”

Harper laughed and Trudy turned to see the Hunsenmeir sisters. “Good morning.”

“How’s the dance school?” Louise politely inquired.

“Coming along.”

“I wish you could get my Chessy to dance.” Julia idly glanced up from the sports page. “He breaks out into a cold sweat at the prospect.”

Trudy smoothly replied, “I’d be happy to teach Chester. I’m sure he has talent.”

“I’m still searching for it,” Juts joked.

She noticed Trudy’s earrings, just like the shells she had seen Chessy hold in his hands when she inadvertently passed Epstein’s before Christmas. She wondered if Trudy had bought them or if a beau had given them to her. Well, she liked the bracelet he had given her for Christmas but she’d had her heart set on those earrings. She wondered if Epstein’s could get another pair, except she couldn’t afford them anyway.

“Here.” A cup of coffee was pushed in front of Trudy.

“Good morning, gang.” Senior Epstein unwrapped his wool scarf from his neck. “Can you believe the Japs took Singapore?”

Senior, an outgoing man with a booming voice, had begun referring to himself that way when his son was born. He was one of those men impossible not to like. As he greeted everyone and slid onto a counter stool he ordered French toast. His wife had passed away from leukemia three years earlier and Jacob took most of his meals in restaurants. He was just starting
to look at women again and he liked what he saw in Trudy Archer.

As he chatted with Louise and Juts about the Civil Air Patrol he noticed Trudy’s shell earrings. He quickly shot a look at Juts’s ears. No earrings. The shell earrings were most definitely on Trudy’s scintillating lobes. He saw Juts’s bracelet when she dropped her arm for a moment to eat; the gold links slid out from underneath her sweater. In an instant he grasped the situation, since those were the only gold shell earrings he’d had in his store before Christmas. His face turned crimson.