Battle Cry - Leon Uris [9]
“Maybe we could talk between ourselves. You owe me that much.”
“I don’t understand it myself, Dad.”
“Wilbur Grimes told me yesterday. They’ll take you at Georgia Tech right after February commencement.”
“It just doesn’t seem right. Me going off to college to play football with a war going on.”
“But Danny, you’re only seventeen. They don’t want you. If they need you, they’ll call you.”
“We’ve been over it fifty times already.”
“Yes, and we’ve got to have a showdown. Neither your mother nor I can go on with this daily sulking. And I’m not signing any papers until I know a reason why.”
“Have it your way.”
“I could understand it if you weren’t happy here or if you were a rattle-brained kid. You’ve wanted to be an engineer since you were Bud’s age. You’ve got everything now, a home, friends, I let you drive the car…Mother and I talked it over. We decided that you could go to M.I.T. if that would help change your mind.”
“It isn’t that I’m not happy, Dad.”
“Then why the Marine Corps?”
“Don’t keep asking me.”
“What about Virgil?”
“He wants to go too, Dad…but with his mother so sick.”
The balding man snuffed out his cigarette. “This whole damned thing makes me feel like a miserable failure.”
“Cut it out.”
“I don’t think we’d better pull any punches, Danny. We’ve done that too often. I feel like one of those fathers who is a star boarder in his own home. I’ve really never given you and Bud the companionship you’ve needed.”
“You don’t have to go blaming yourself because you have to beat yourself out to keep the business going.”
“I’ve envied you, son. You’ve turned out to be all the things I wished I could have been. Yes, I suppose I’m jealous of my own boy. Ever since you were a little bugger you haven’t needed me. I remember how you’d come in from peddling papers when we lived in that flat on North Avenue. You’d be bloodied up from the big boys on your corner. But you always went back and slugged it out.”
He sighed and lit another cigarette. “And you wanted to play football. Mother locked you in your room and you’d jump from the second story. You’ve had the guts to stand up to her. I never have.”
“What are you saying?”
“I wanted you to play ball. But I took her side—I always have. Still, I guess, inside me, I’m the proudest man alive that you want to join the Marine Corps. Don’t think losing a boy is easy to take. I think…this once, son…I’ll have to carry the ball for you.”
“Dad, Dad…I don’t know what to say.”
“Have you told Kathy yet?”
“No, sir.”
“I think you’d better go over there and see her.”
CHAPTER 2
CONSTANTINE ZVONSKI lay back on the creaky bed and watched the pall of blue smoke drift to the ceiling. From where he lay he could see the garish sign of lightbulbs flick off and on. HOTEL, it read, ROOMS $1.50 AND UP. A shift in position caused the ancient bedsprings to groan. The dim yellowish light within partly hid the cobwebs and the faded carpet with its accumulated grit and dirt of the years.
The silence in the street outside was broken by a sharp clicking of heels against the cobblestone pavement. He darted quickly to the window and drew aside the threadbare curtain. It must be Susan.
He snuffed his cigarette nervously as the sound faded and was then reheard coming quickly up the steps. He unbolted the safety lock and opened the door a crack. As she approached the head of the stairs he beckoned her softly. She entered the room breathlessly. He shut and relocked the door.
He took her in his arms. She was fresh and cold from the crisp January air.
“Honey you’re shaking like a leaf,” he said.
“I’ll be all right in a minute, it was cold outside.”
“No, you’re scared.”
She pulled herself away gently and took off her coat, then sat slowly on a hard-backed chair and hid her face in her hands.
“Your old man again?” She nodded. “Dammit, why can’t he leave us alone.”
“I’ll be all right in a minute, Connie.” He lit a cigarette and handed it to her. “Thanks, darling.”
“Was it bad?