The Final Storm - Jeff Shaara [237]
Jesse leaned close to his ear.
“Say hi, you idiot.”
“Uh … hi. You needed a ride …?”
Jesse slapped him in the back of his head, dislodging his hat.
“Miss Lancaster, will you please help get the glue out of his brain?”
She laughed again, still nervous.
“I was hoping you’d remember me, Clay. I heard you were coming home, and … I know it’s only a short time, but maybe, when you’ve had a good visit with your family … well maybe, we could have a sundae or something.”
Clay stared at her, felt something new, something he had not felt in a very long time. Joy.
“I’d love to. You came along … to see me?”
“Yes, Clay. Welcome home.”
There was a hand sliding around his arm now, and he felt his mother’s touch, her soft words.
“Looks like you’ll be busy while you’re here. I guess we should get to the Nash.”
Clay looked at her, the tears still there, and he glanced at Jesse, his brother’s arm around his fiancée, realized she was holding a cane.
“Jesse, you hurt?”
Jesse shook his head, shrugged.
“Tore up my knees. You paying attention? I jumped out of airplanes, you numbskull.”
Adams felt paralyzed, the faces all looking at him, tears and smiles and happiness. Across the platform, a man began to shout.
“It’s over! The Japs surrendered! It’s over!”
The crowd responded with cheering, shouts, disbelief, a scramble for a fresh stack of newspapers. Adams stared at the mob scene, papers in the air, more cheers, a fat black headline passing by, someone slapping him, “Good work, soldier!”
Others were hoisting women in the air, the army officers down the platform waving their hats, others, civilians, tossing theirs high. Clay felt a burst of confusion, a fog settling in on him, too much emotion, too many shouts. The war can’t be over … there’s too many Japs … Guam, and then we gotta go to China. He felt a hint of panic, glanced to one side, the railroad tracks, thought of the rocks, the dirt, a shovel, the precious sanctuary of a foxhole. He looked at his brother, saw concern, the hard crust of the paratroop sergeant giving way, Jesse’s eyes reading him, no smile now.
“Hey, Clay, I’ll grab a paper, and we can read about it on the way. It’s been coming for a couple days. You might not have known, traveling and all. You’ll be okay. We can talk about … anything you want, maybe later. The old man’s mostly gone, working some shifts at a mine down south. He doesn’t mess with me at all. Knows better. It’s real peaceful at the house. Let’s head for home.”
“Yeah … but I have to go back soon. I’ve only got a thirty-day leave. That’s all.”
Beside him, the voice of his mother.
“For now. But the war’s over. And you’re safe now. Soon, you’ll have all the time in the world.”
AFTERWORD
The sooner the enemy comes, the better. One hundred million of us will die proudly.
—JAPANESE