American Music - Jane Mendelsohn [23]
Was it her fault? The newspaper. After the letters to the senators and the surgeon general went nowhere she had sent a letter to the editor. Of a major newspaper. In it, she had said that the secretive nature of the conduct of this war was unconscionable. She said that national security was a smokescreen the government was hiding behind to prevent the truth from being known. The letter was printed. There was a feeling among Captain Michaels’s family and friends and associates that in spite of his own casual and critical behavior in Soc Trang it was this letter more than anything else that had resulted in his court-martial. His mother did not come to New Orleans for the trial. His father, who owned a pharmacy in Reading, Pennsylvania, had flown in and was sitting next to his daughter-in-law. But he did not look over at her during the proceedings. Sometimes she thought he had forgotten, happily, that she was there.
She was listening to the testimony about Captain Michaels’s missing buttons from his uniform when the baby kicked for the first time.
Honor
Tomorrow’s his birthday.
What?
Your friend. He turns twenty-five tomorrow.
Honor was standing at the nurses’ station reading the paper. Her hair was undone and fell in a curtain shielding her face. She pulled it aside and looked at the nurse.
Do you think he would like a cake? she asked.
Everyone likes a cake.
Can he have one? Can I bring one in for him?
The nurse checked his chart. He’s allowed to eat anything. He has physical therapy until eleven tomorrow. Then occupational therapy. Why don’t you come in around lunchtime.
Will he be in our room? I won’t have enough for everyone. And he wouldn’t want a party anyway. We should be alone.
I’ll get him there.
He’ll probably hate it.
He hates a lot of things. Doesn’t mean we should let him get away with it.
Honor flipped the pages of the paper.
He trusts me a little now. I don’t want him to think I’m pushing it.
The nurse slid the paper over to her side of the counter. She started reading.
Don’t forget to bring a candle, she said.
1936
It was late when Joe came home. He had been studying, he said. He had an exam. I know, she said, as if he’d already told her. She had dinner waiting for him and they sat at the little table in the kitchen. She had pot roast, his favorite, and string beans and roasted potatoes. No matter how little money they had she always managed to feed him well. She watched him while he ate and she seemed to enjoy just the movement of his jaw, the way he held his fork, the way he organized the remnants on his plate.
He closed his eyes when he took a sip of water.
I saw that bandleader you like is coming at Christmas.
Oh really? he said.
It was advertised in the paper.
He kept eating.
I thought we might go, she said.
He kept eating.
Then he said: Isn’t it too expensive?
Yes, she said, it is. But I thought we deserved some fun.
It’s very expensive, he said.
She stood up and took his plate.
If you think so, she said, scraping the plate.
No, no, he said, leaning back in the chair. Maybe you’re right. He smiled. Maybe we should go.
•
They dismissed the charge of feigning mental illness. They refused to withdraw the two remaining charges. Then they called Captain Michaels as a witness.
The Captain testified in a calm voice. He responded to all of the accusations with reasonable defenses. Yes, he had complained but not because he wanted to be sent home. Yes, he had said there was a lack of vital surgical tools on the