Chapter 8
Reflections
Through the mirror of my mind
Time after time
I see reflections of you and me
Reflections of the way life used to be
Sunday, July 10, 1967
Live from our newsroom in New York, it’s Walter Cronkite with the news…with Bernard
Kalb reporting from Saigon.
“Good evening. General William Westmoreland has
requested an additional 200,000 reinforcements on top of the 475,000 military
personnel already scheduled to be sent to Vietnam, which would bring the U.S. total in Vietnam to 675,000.”
After Regan and Dan dropped Trixie off, she waited on the service porch until they had pulled away and then went back out and over to the chicken coop. She sat on a wooden crate next to the structure for some time, trying to make some sense of her emotions of the past few weeks, then gathered up the eggs and headed back to the house. Taking care of the chickens was now officially one of Bobby’s responsibilities and she left the other chores for him. She was sure to make some noise when she went back into the house and left the basket out on the kitchen counter so that if anyone did discover she’d been out so early, they’d assume it was just to gather eggs. She showered, dressed and went back downstairs to start breakfast for her mother. Brian said something when he came downstairs about her being up early, but she was able to mumble a response that satisfied him.
Mart was unusually quiet during breakfast, just as he had been the prior evening. Trixie knew he had gone out to confront Dan when she came running into the Lynch house crying, but she and Mart often had a sixth sense about each other and didn’t need to talk to communicate. It appeared that Mart had learned something from Dan, but, since Diana had been able to calm her down while he’d been outside, he took Trixie home without sharing anything. She had started to ask, but he cut her off, assuring her that they’d talk later.
When they finished eating and Trixie was washing the breakfast dishes, he asked their mother if he and Trixie could skip church services. His ride would be coming before they got back and he indicated he wanted to spend some time alone with his sister. Moms may not have known what transpired the prior evening, but she knew her children well enough to honor his request.
The moment their parents and brothers pulled out of the driveway, Mart grabbed his sister’s arm and led her out onto the front porch. He sat in the large wooden swing and motioned for her to join him. “Do you want to tell me where you were last night?”
“What? Last night?” Trixie pretended that she had no idea what he meant. “I was with you. At the party!”
“I mean after we came home. I heard Regan drop you off this morning. Did you sneak out?”
“Yes, Martin. I went out early this morning, NOT last night. I couldn’t sleep. I went up to the stables to…to say goodbye to Dan. We didn’t exactly leave the party on the best of… Geesh. Regan was there and I just said goodbye and they brought me home.”
“And that was all?”
“That’s ALL! What did you think I’d be doing?”
Mart had been sitting on the edge of the swing, but sat back. “I don’t know Trixie. I just…I was afraid that maybe…After what Dan said last night.”
“What did he say?”
“It was in confidence. But he said you two were…after I saw your torn blouse and he admitted he had feelings…but he also said he wants no entanglements with anyone.”
“Entanglements?”
“He’s got tremendous demands…responsibilities and…and…even dangers ahead. You know that. He needs to be free and you might be complicating it for him.”
“I’m a complication. I’m complicating it for him?” Trixie jumped up. “Isn’t that a hoot?” She began pacing. “Yeah, it’s complicated. I’m supposed to be in love with Jim, but all we do is fight. Dan and I…he doesn’t want any entanglements. Entanglements? Yeah. That’s complicated for sure.”
“Trixie…I didn’t say… It was a poor choice of words. He just…I can’t blame him, Trix. He wants to focus on the hell he’s facing and…maybe he was having second thoughts about having joined the Marines. I don’t know.”
“He doesn’t have to worry. I’ll keep my distance.” Trixie stormed back into the house and up the stairs.
Mart waited on the porch until his ride showed up to take him back to camp. When the car pulled into the driveway, he ran upstairs to get his bag and then stood outside Trixie’s closed bedroom door, saying he loved and supported her. It was the first time he’d said he loved her since they were in pre-school.
Trixie waited until she heard him greet his friends and the car turned around. She walked over to the window and watched the car pull out onto Glen Road, wondering exactly what Dan said to Mart the prior evening. She wasn’t surprised that Dan might have expressed concerns about getting involved with her; he’d said similar things to her. But his actions hadn’t communicated that at all. She’d never been more confused in her life and thought she knew Dan well enough to know that he had to be equally confused. Over the past year, with all the Bob-Whites scattered, except for the two of them, they had carefully avoided anything that even hinted at romance. She had experienced totally new and unfamiliar emotions over the past twenty-four hours but she didn’t know if it was love, her fears and concerns for him, or just physical attraction. They both needed time to work through these new feelings and time wasn’t to be had.
Diana came by that afternoon and tried to get Trixie to open up about what happened with Dan the prior evening. Trixie was unwilling to share when she didn’t understand it herself. Diana left, still only aware that Trixie had run into her house crying the prior evening, insisting that she wanted nothing to do with either Jim Frayne or Dan Mangan.
Brian had tried to talk to her when she drove him to the train station after dinner, but she cut him off immediately. She did admit to her brother that she was having a difficult time convincing herself that Dan would be okay. Brian tried to reassure her that all of Dan’s friends were concerned, but he was strong and capable and they had to remain positive for him.
Trixie had no idea where Jim had gone after he left the party. While her temper had cooled, she still had no desire to see or talk to him. Her heart ached for him, but it ached for him to understand and believe in her and not for his jealousy and stubbornness. She knew she had to make sense of her feelings for Dan before she could ever resolve anything with Jim.
Trixie longed to share her fears and uncertainties with Honey. But her best friend was thousands of miles away and, if she were honest with herself, hadn’t been her closest confidant for a long time. Trixie closed her eyes, fearing that Honey never would be again.
It was still light outside when Trixie went upstairs to bed that evening. She put on her pajamas and dropped onto the bed without taking down the covers. She rolled over on her side to see the smiling faces of the Bob-Whites in a photo taken at the girls’ high school graduation. She and Honey and Diana were in their white gowns and mortar boards, surrounded by the four boys. All of them were laughing. She rolled over onto her other side so that she couldn’t see it and sobbed, certain that they would never share times like that again.
Dan stood with several hundred other young, sweating men in civilian clothes on yellow footprints painted on the concrete. The pinkish light of dawn was just breaking over the eastern horizon, as three junior drill instructors screamed at them. "GET IN LINE! GET IN LINE! YOU WILL NOT MOVE! YOU WILL NOT SPEAK!"
He had not slept since disembarking the train the prior evening. He already had endured several hours of running, never walking; he had already endured insults and humiliation. He was oblivious to the long white clapboard and red brick buildings, the trees hung with Spanish moss, or the stifling heat and humidity; staying totally focused on those yelling in his face and trying not to choke on the warm breath and spit that smelled of garlic and cigarettes.
This was it. Parris Island, South Carolina; the United States Marine Corps Recruit Depot, constructed in a swamp on an island hundreds of miles from nowhere. Here he would be transformed into a human fighting machine.
Gunnery Sergeant Henke, the head Drill Instructor, spit, then cleared his throat. "Listen up, herd. You maggots had better start looking like United States Marine Corps recruits. Do not think for one second that you are Marines."
The Sergeant put his fists on his hips. "If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training, you will be a weapon, you will be a minister of death, praying for war. And proud. Until that day you are pukes, you are scumbags; you are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human. You people are nothing but a lot of little pieces of amphibian shit.”
"You maggots are not going to have any fun here. You are not going to enjoy standing in straight lines and you are not going to enjoy saying ‘sir’ to individuals you do not like. Well ladies, that's tough. I will speak and you will function. Ten percent of you will not survive. Ten percent of you maggots are going to go AWOL or will break your backs on the Confidence Course or will just go plain crazy. There it is. My orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. You will be grunts. Grunts get no slack. My recruits learn to survive without slack. Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. Am I correct, herd?"
Some of the recruits mumbled, "Yes. Yes, sir."
"I can't hear you, ladies."
"Yes, sir."
"I still can't hear you, ladies. SOUND OFF LIKE YOU GOT A PAIR."
"YES, SIR!"
Thursday, July 14, 1967
Live from our newsroom in New York, it’s Walter
Cronkite with the news…with Dan Rather reporting from Newark, New Jersey.
“Good evening. Governor Richard
J. Hughes has called out the New Jersey National Guard as rioting continues for
the third day in Newark, New Jersey. However, the level of violence appears to
have intensified with the arrival of these troops. The unrest apparently began
with the arrest of a cab driver who allegedly drove around a double-parked
police car. A crowd gathering around the police station where he had been taken
heard that he died in police custody and became violent. The police dispersed
the crowd, who began to break into stores on the nearby commercial
thoroughfares. Looting, burning and demonstrations rapidly spread to other
areas of the city.”
Jim shifted the heavy satchel from his shoulder and put the mail he’d just taken from his mailbox into the outside pocket. He then took the stairs up to his apartment, wanting to drop off his heavy load before heading to the grocery store. Entering the apartment, he tossed the satchel onto a chair and noticed one letter fall onto the floor. He picked it up and, seeing the return address, tossed it into the waste basket beside his desk. Forgetting his plans to go grocery shopping, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, opened it, and flopped down in his desk chair.
He stared at the green felt desk blotter, thinking about the recent decisions he’d made that got him to this lonely miserable place. The main reason he had chosen Harvard over Columbia was that the Harvard’s Graduate School of Education offered two areas of concentration that he wanted to study and they were allowing him to take both simultaneously. He knew before he enrolled that it would mean carrying a heavy class-load, but he had never shied away from hard work, especially in school. Each program required a practicum, so he knew it meant staying in Cambridge year round for at least two years, but he had no problem with that when he enrolled. He’d thought that taking classes year-round would help to make the time pass by faster and keep his mind off of Trixie, making their separation easier.
He hadn’t realized that nothing could keep him from thinking about the blonde dynamo.
He’d never doubted his ability to handle two classes, one in each summer session, on top of the practicum. It meant sitting in class each morning, then going directly to his practicum and studying long hours each evening and on the weekends. The one class had proven especially demanding and he was having trouble keeping up with assignments, as well as working on his final paper for the practicum.
Normally such demands would keep him focused, but, instead, the difficult class was making him want the unwavering support he had received from Trixie in the past. His doubts in himself and their relationship fed upon each other, making the separation from Trixie even more difficult.
He was exhausted. He was frustrated. He needed a break.
He needed Trixie.
Trixie’s energy would give him stamina. Her smile would ease his tension. Her kisses would ease his frustration. Her perpetual curiosity would provide breaks from his dull routine. But she was in New York. She was uninterested in his problems. All she cared about was…was Dan.
Jim put his head in his hands, elbows resting on the desk blotter. What the hell was he going to do?
At the same time Jim was taking a beer from his refrigerator, Trixie was parking Brian’s Rambler next to her mother’s car in the driveway of Crabapple Farm. The past three days at work hadn’t revealed anything new about the Sparta Strangler murders, and it looked like City Council was not going to authorize Detectives Bailey and Spencer’s travel to England. All of that didn’t matter, since she’d been informed more than once that the investigation did not involve her. Captain Molinson had praised her research, as well as how well she’d organized the files, then sent her back to typing reports.
“Trixie?” her mother called out from the garden.
“I’ll be back out as soon as I change,” Trixie responded, thinking her mother was asking for help. After the hot spell the second half of June, followed by two days of steady rain and two of warm sunshine, it seemed as if all of the garden’s produce was ripening at the same time. Trixie knew without asking that she was expected to help once it was dry enough to get into the garden again.
“I’m fine for now, Trixie. But there’s a letter for you on the kitchen counter.
Trixie jogged towards the house, curious about who might be writing. During their phone conversation on Saturday evening, Honey had promised to write with details of her adventures in Europe, but she doubted a letter would arrive so soon from France. She’d barely slept since Sunday, confused and upset about the conflicting messages Dan had sent before he left, but she knew he wouldn’t have time to write from Boot Camp. It might be from Jim, but she knew he would never have written until his temper cooled and who knew how long that would take. She rushed through the service porch and into the kitchen allowing the screen door to slam behind her. Seeing the letter and recognizing the bold block handwriting on the envelope, she grabbed it and ran up the back stairs, taking two at a time, then down the hall to her room.
She closed the door and dropped onto the bed. She read her name and address several times, silently hoping the letter would resolve some of her confusing and conflicting emotions. She noticed that it had a regular postage stamp and return address of WRF Stables and realized that Dan must have written it before he even got to Parris Island. She then saw the Yemassee cancellation and realized he must have written it on the train and mailed it from South Carolina.
She tore open the envelope.
Jim took a long swig of beer and then went over to the chair where he’d tossed his satchel. He started to sit again, when he saw the crumpled letter in the waste basket and took it out. He slit open the envelope, pulled out the note paper, and sat back down as he unfolded and began to read it.
Dear Jim,
I know your first reaction when you receive this will be
to toss it into the garbage, but I hope you will open and read it BEFORE you
toss it into the can.
I know that I made a mistake bringing Darlene to the
party. I don’t know what I was thinking. You were right about that.
I know you arrived at the party last night exhausted from
an all-nighter & long drive. I understand your concerns about maintaining
your grades and the killer class load you are carrying this summer. I should
have been sensitive to that when you arrived & backed off as soon as I saw
just how tired you were. I wish I could undo what we said and did last night
but I can’t. Among the MANY things you and I share are a short fuse.
I know that another thing we share is our admiration for Trixie.
BEFORE YOU TOSS THIS IN THE TRASH.
How could anyone know Trixie & not love her? But my
love for her is that of a friend. I have ALWAYS respected your devotion to her
and recognize that she is totally devoted to you.
If I were in your shoes, forced to spend weeks at a time
away from her, I am sure I would have been envious if not jealous of another
guy spending as much time with her as I have this past year. But you have to
understand that my love for Trixie has always been that of a friend and nothing
more. I respect your feelings for her AND I have seen FIRST HAND the depth of
her feelings for you.
I know that you want her closer to you and have tried to
convince her to transfer to Boston. I would too, if she were my girl. But,
just as you were unable to turn down the opportunity to study at Harvard, she
doesn’t want to turn down an opportunity to study at the best Criminal Justice
program in the country.
I saw her in class this past year. She was brilliant and
deserves the opportunity to go to John Jay.
I can’t be there to apologize to you personally, or to
tell you how lucky you are to hold the heart of someone like Trixie. She loves
you, Frayne. If you love her, too, you’ll work it out.
Jim stared for some time at the letter. He had returned to Cambridge on Sunday, certain that he had lost Trixie forever, and, most likely to Dan. But Dan was insistent that Trixie loved him. Jim knew the abuse he’d suffered from Jonesy had seriously compromised his ability to love and trust. The one thing he was certain of was his love for Trixie. Why couldn’t he trust her, too? In the letter Dan had alluded to the special bond the two young men shared. He had always believed in that bond and that he could trust Dan with anything. So why hadn’t he trusted him with Trixie?
After reading through the letter a second and then a third time, Jim picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.
“Crabapple Farm. This is Helen.”
“Hello Mrs. B. This is Jim. May I speak to Trixie?”
“Hello Jim. I’m so sorry we missed you over the weekend. Let me see where Trixie is, dear.”
Jim took a pencil from the wooden cup on his desk and tapped the ink blotter with it while he waited.
“Jim, I’m so sorry, dear. Trixie is…I can’t seem to…”
“I understand Mrs. B. She’s upset with me and I don’t blame her. Would you please tell her I hope she’ll return my call?”
“Of course. Ah…Jim? The past few weeks have been very difficult for her. For all of you, really. I hope you’re okay.”
“I’m okay, Mrs. B.” Although I’ll be better when I talk to Trixie, he thought.
Jim hung up the phone and continued tapping on the blotter, thinking about what Mrs. Belden had said. The past few weeks had been difficult for her and for all of them. Weeks? The past few months had been difficult for all of them. And he’d done nothing but make them worse. He’d been a total prig with Honey, he’d refused to recognize the one thing about Trixie he loved most—her independent nature—and he’d tried to blame one of his best friends for problems he’d created himself. He wondered if he could ever make amends.
He dropped the pencil and picked up a notepad where he’d scrawled some numbers the prior week. He picked up the phone and dialed again. He could at least try to make some things right.
This time he was forced to wait while an overseas operator placed his connection. He was relieved when Honey answered and not their mother.
“Hey, Little Sis!”
“Jim! We didn’t expect you to call. Mother is…” Honey and their mother were leaving for Rome the next morning and Maddie Wheeler was meeting with the hotel Concierge, finalizing arrangements for a whirlwind tour of Rome, Florence and Genoa, followed by a week on the Riviera.
“I don’t want to talk to Mother. I was calling you.” Jim hesitated. When Honey didn’t say anything, he continued. “I wish I could say this face-to-face, but I don’t think I can wait for that. I need to apologize to you. Did you get my letter?”
“Yes, and I wrote you back. I am doing much better. I…I was just so embarrassed and angry and…”
“You’re okay now?”
“Yes, Jim. But is everything okay with you?”
“I’m fine…school’s tougher than I expected and…You’re enjoying your trip with Mother?”
We’ve seen every museum and every Haute Couture House in Paris. I thought since we were missing Fashion Week, I’d get out of that, but it just meant Mother has been dragging me to private showings. We’re going to the opera in Rome and she insisted we both get new gowns.”
“I’m sorry I missed your call on Saturday.”
“Trixie said you were on your way. She didn’t sound too happy.”
“She was furious with me. And I’m afraid I didn’t behave very well, either. She won’t take my calls.”
“I’m sorry, Jim. Give her time. You two have fought before.” Honey sat down in the straight-backed chair next to the phone stand.
“I’ve treated you horribly the past several months. I’ve treated everyone badly. I could make a lot of excuses, but they’re all lame.”
“You’ve been under a lot of pressure. And you’ve always felt protective. I’m sure you...” Honey sighed. Jim knew his sister well enough to know she was struggling for the right words.
“Yes, but that still doesn’t excuse the way I’ve treated you.”
“I’ll always love you, Jim. You’re my brother.”
Jim felt relieved to hear that. “Your full-blooded adopted brother?”
Honey laughed. “You don’t need to say more; full-blooded adopted brother.”
“So what does Mother have planned next for the two of you?”
Honey shared the demanding itinerary their mother had planned, visiting historic sites and museums in Italy, followed by one night in Monte Carlo and a week of rest and relaxation in Cannes. The two chatted for some time before Jim finally broached the real reason for his call. “I’m afraid that Trixie won’t be as quick to forgive me as you have been.”
“She loves you. You might be surprised.”
“We’ve done nothing but bicker for months and…I’m afraid Saturday might have been the final straw.”
“What exactly did you do, Jim? She wasn’t too happy that you were late when I called the party, but that isn’t anything I haven’t seen the two of you resolve in the past.”
Jim explained how he’d arrived late, totally exhausted, and argued with Dan about Darlene. He glossed over details about the fight, just saying that Trixie had ordered him away, and refused to take his call. “I was wondering, Sis…do you think you might…”
“I’m not playing go-between from the other side of the Atlantic, Jim,” Honey interrupted. “Your relationship with Trixie has always been turbulent. I don’t know what else you’d expect between two people as spirited and…and…”
“Stubborn?” Jim offered.
“I was going to say passionate, but stubborn works, too. Don’t give up on her, Jim. There’s nothing I can say or do that will convince her to talk to you any sooner than you can convince her yourself. Write her a letter. Send her flowers. But, please, don’t ask me to be your emissary.”
“You’re right, Honey. I shouldn’t ask you to do that. I just…I’m feeling pretty desperate right now. I totally screwed up things with you and now with her; much less the rest of the Bob-Whites. I can only hope that she’ll be half as willing to accept my apology as you’ve been. I…I want to fall down at her feet and beg forgiveness. I am so lucky that you’ve been able to forgive me for being such a toad the past few months, but I’m afraid Trixie won’t…I have to talk to her. She needs to know...”
Honey laughed. “Keep calling. I know her and I know she loves you.”
“I guess that’s all I can do. It is kinda embarrassing to force Mrs. B to make these lame excuses for her.”
“Mrs. B doesn’t mind, I’m sure.”
“Thanks Honey. You’ve made me feel so much better. I can’t wait for you and Mother to get home so we can talk face-to-face.”
“You know how to reach me until then.”
Jim hung up the phone and sat staring at it for several minutes before opening the bottom drawer of the desk and taking out a phone book. He flipped through the yellow pages until he found “F” and one advertisement caught his eye. “We specialize in orchids.” Marking it with his thumb, he dialed the number.
“It’s your moment of truth, Frayne,” he mumbled.
Honey hung up the phone and rested her head on the back of the chair. There was no mistaking the hurt and frustration in Jim’s voice. A part of her wanted to cut the trip short and rush home to console him. But a part of her knew he had no one to blame for his misery except himself. She understood that he was driven to perfection—to take the most challenging classes and earn nothing less than A’s; to be uncompromisingly upright and honorable in his actions; to be respectful to his parents and elders; to be protective of his sister and friends. But they were compulsions and he placed unnecessary stress on himself and those who cared about him. He needed to learn to make compromises—a concept he just didn’t understand.
She was worried about her brother and best friend, but she knew that only they could resolve their differences. Their relationship had always been turbulent, but she accepted this as normal between two people as spirited and passionate, or stubborn, as Jim and Trixie. She knew they both had been miserable since Jim moved to Cambridge, but also knew that Trixie shouldn’t be expected to sacrifice her dream to be a detective someday, just to follow him there.
Honey had resolved a long time ago to not get involved in Jim and Trixie’s relationship, and she knew she was right to refuse Jim’s suggestion that she call Trixie. But realizing she still didn’t know what Jim had done at the party to make Trixie so upset, she decided that she might not want to intervene in his behalf, but it wouldn’t hurt to give her best friend a call. She picked up the phone and began dialing, following the directions on the printed card provided by the hotel for overseas calls.
Once again the phone rang several times before Helen answered it. Honey heard her call several times before Trixie finally picked up the upstairs extension.
Trixie sounded relieved to hear from her friend and was quick to share that she couldn’t wait for Honey to return home. She admitted to feeling out-of-sorts and needing a long heart-to-heart conversation, but when Honey asked about Saturday night, she immediately clammed up. She just said that they’d talk when Honey came home and then asked Honey about her trip. Honey shared again that she’d been dragged from one fashion house to the next, but she did have some beautiful dresses that she’d be sharing with Trixie and Diana when they needed them.
Trixie guffawed loudly. “I doubt I’ll ever have any need for a designer gown.”
“They aren’t all gowns, Trixie. I got several pants suits and the cutest jumpsuits. I actually picked one out, thinking of you.”
“Jumpsuit? Isn’t that what pilots wear?”
“I guess. This is like a long dress—all one piece—but it’s pants instead of a skirt. It’s the absolute latest thing in Europe and I immediately thought of you when I saw this one that’s the most incredible blue…I bought it just for you and can’t wait for you to try it on.”
“We’ll see.” Trixie offered weakly. “What’s next on your itinerary?”
“We fly out tomorrow to Rome. Mother has hired a car and driver and after we see Rome, we’re heading up through Tuscany to Florence and Genoa and then over to Monte Carlo and the Riviera—Cannes I think—we’ll be staying there for several days.”
“Isn’t that where they have the topless beaches?”
“What?” Honey laughed.
“Cannes. The French Riviera. I read somewhere that they go topless on the beaches there.”
“I never heard that.”
“Well, just stay away from those topless beaches.”
Honey laughed. “Topless? You don’t have to worry about me! I’ll write and maybe even call. You write too, you have my father’s address in London!”
When Honey hung up she realized that while she still hadn’t learned anything about what happened Saturday night, she felt better just talking with her best friend.
“MANGAN.”
“Sir. Yes, SIR!”
“IN HERE, MANGAN.”
“Sir. Yes, SIR!” Dan followed the junior drill instructor into the small office.
“HAIRCUT LOOKS GOOD, MANGAN.”
“Sir. Yes, SIR!” Dan resisted the urge to touch the short stubble on his head.
“SHUT THE DOOR.”
“Sir. Yes, SIR!” Dan shut the door and stood at attention. He pulled back his shoulders and straightened his back, wondering why he was called into this private meeting. He’d been at Parris Island less than four days, and, so far at least, he’d managed to follow directions and avoid being singled out. However, with less than twelve hours of sleep in that time, he was beginning to feel somewhat disoriented. He forced himself to stand as straight and alert as possible.
“At ease, Mangan.”Dan spread his legs slightly relaxed his shoulders somewhat, but continued to stand tall.
“This is your Moment of Truth, Mangan. Do you know what your Moment of Truth is?”
“Sir. No, SIR!” Dan responded, although he suspected it had something to do with his juvenile court records.
“It says here that you were convicted of several crimes as a juvenile.” The Sergeant opened a folder and tapped on the top sheet of paper. Dan recognized it as a document he had signed two days earlier.
“Sir. Yes, SIR!”
“And your record was recently sealed.”
“Sir. Yes, SIR!”
“Is everything that you provided on this form,” the Sergeant held up the piece of paper. “ 100% truthful and complete?”
“It is to the best of the Private’s recollection, SIR!” Dan stood up straighter. “The Private was fifteen at the time of the, ah, offenses, SIR, but the information is complete as to my understanding of the legal system and charges, SIR!”
“And you indicate you’ve stayed out of trouble for,” the Sergeant glanced at the papers. “Over five years, now.”
“Sir. Yes, SIR!”
“What were you doing during that time?”
“Working and attending school, SIR!”
“I understand, Mangan. I just want to remind you that by completing this form, you swore under oath that it was complete to the best of your knowledge. This is your last opportunity to make any corrections; otherwise you could be court martialed and serve a nice long time one of our federal prisons AFTER you are dishonorably discharged. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, MANGAN?”
“Sir. Yes, SIR!”
“Would you like to read your earlier statement?”
“Sir. No, SIR! It’s as honest and complete as possible, SIR!”
The Sergeant continued to ask Dan questions, obviously to ensure he had been honest. Apparently he was satisfied with Dan’s answers, because he only asked a few about alcohol and drug use.
“Sign here, Mangan.” The Sergeant handed him a ball point pen and indicated where he was to sign another form. Dan leaned over the desk, signed it and then handed the papers back. The Sergeant stood and Dan immediately to attention.
“DISMISSED, MANGAN!”
“Sir. Yes, SIR!” Dan left the room and jogged over to join the others standing at attention on the lines of yellow footprints.
Saturday, July 30, 1967
Live from our newsroom in New York, it’s Walter Cronkite with the news…with Bernard
Kalb reporting from Saigon.
“Good evening. This is Walter Cronkite. A fire on
the USS Forrestal has been brought under control as the death toll continues to
rise. Serving duty off the coast of Vietnam, the crew was preparing for an air
strike when a Zuni rocket installed on an F-4 Phantom misfired, impacting an armed
A-4 Skyhawk. The rocket’s impact dislodged and ignited the Skyhawk’s fuel
tank, resulting in an explosion and serious conflagration that burned for
hours. Casualties are estimated at 134 dead, 161 injured and the loss of at
least 20 aircraft.”
Jim lowered the tail gate of his Wagoneer, set his heavy duffle bag in the back and laid his olive green uniform on top. He was headed for his annual four week tour of Guard duty and planned to drive straight through to Sleepyside, visit with Trixie if she’d see him, and change into his fatigues there before reporting to his guard unit at Camp Smith in Cortlandt Manor, that evening. He stood, staring at the duffle bag, remembering when Trixie had seen him off to his six weeks of Basic Training the prior summer.
“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I…I…I’d just die if something happened to you.”
Jim tugged on a wild curl and pulled her to him. “You’ve asked me that several times, Trixie, and I’ve said I will do everything I can to stay safe. While I guess some people get hurt in Basic Training, all we really do is some intense physical training and learn military practices, etc. The most dangerous thing I’ll do is marksmanship and I’ve been handling guns since I was eleven. I think I’ll be fine.”
“And there’s no way you’ll get home before…”
“No. Six weeks of intense training with no leave or anything. But we can write and if I can call, I will.” He took her chin and kissed her. “How many times have we gone two, even three weeks apart? It won’t be easy, but it will go by so fast, Trixie, and then we’ll…” He kissed her again. “It’s not like we have a choice about this.”
Trixie squeezed him tight. “But, why now? You have your deferment until next year.”
“I told you, Trixie. There are waiting lists for most of the Guard units. I wanted to get on a list before my deferment did expire. The sooner I sign up, the sooner I’ll finish my obligation. Even though it’s only one weekend a month, I don’t want to worry about it once I…once we…I don’t want distractions when we start our family and my school.
“I hate separations. I just HATE them. And I hate waiting. It won’t go by fast for me . I…I love you, Jim.”
He glanced at his watch before shutting the gate, noting that he had more than sufficient time to have a heart to heart talk with Trixie. She’d said she loved him then and he had no doubt she’d meant it. If only he could find a way to remind her of it without smothering her.
He climbed behind the wheel and started the engine, waited for the automatic rear window to rise, pulled out into traffic and headed home.
Trixie wiped the last of the lotion on her legs, adjusted her sunglasses, and leaned back on the chaise lounge. Diana was already reclining in the chair beside her. The two girls were enjoying a quiet afternoon beside the pool at Maple Crest. “I really appreciate your inviting me over, Di. I know Moms needs my help around the house, but I was dying to get out.”
“I told you earlier this summer that any time you need to talk I’m available.”
“I think you also said something about R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
Diana laughed and began to sing, “R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Find out what it means to me! “I also said that while I know I’m no substitute for Honey, I’m always available if you need to talk or…whatever.”
“I know you said that. And I feel badly that I’ve avoided you the past two weeks. It wasn’t just you. I just needed some time to work things out on my own.”
“And you’ve worked things out?” Diana asked sympathetically.
“No.”
They both laughed.
“I can tell you that I’ve decided one thing. I’m tired of moping around, pining over men. ” Trixie paused.
“Trixie! Don’t leave me hanging…”
“I’ve decided to focus on work and school and not get involved with anyone. Not Jim, or….or anyone.”
Diana laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“You don’t believe me?” Trixie sat up and looked over at the other young woman.
“I really don’t. I think…you’ll always be in love with Jim. The two of you…”
“We almost never see each other, and we fight when we do. I love him, but I also feel…I’ve been feeling stifled. Maybe that’s not the right word, but I decided that if he’s feeling so much stress at Harvard, he needs to stay focused on his life there. And I think I’d benefit from focusing on school and work and….and not him.
“So at least for this semester, I’m not involved with anyone.” Trixie sat back.
“And Dan?”
Trixie sat back up and turned to her friend. “What about Dan?”
Diana sat up slowly. Trixie’s reaction confirmed what she’d suspected for several weeks. Something had happened the night of Dan’s party, and that was at least a part of the reason her friend had been sequestered in her room for almost three weeks and was now swearing off men. Mart refused to share what he knew, if anything, but it was obvious he was worried about his sister’s behavior and he had urged Diana to spend more time with Trixie.
“You’ve never said what happened at the party. I assumed that Dan was responsible for your ripped blouse and…” She pushed her sunglasses up onto the top of head. “Did Dan…did he force himself…”
“How could you say that about him? Of course he didn’t!” Trixie jumped up.
“I’m sorry. I…I didn’t think that happened. It’s just that you came into the house crying and your blouse was torn and you’ve been so upset since. I think Mart knows what happened, but he refuses to say anything. This just isn’t like you, Trixie.”
Trixie sat down on the side of the chair, facing Diana. “I kissed Dan. It wasn’t like he resisted or anything, but I kissed him first. And, yes, my blouse got torn, but not because…I think we were both…I guess you could you say we got caught up in the moment. But I knew then that I couldn’t play games with Jim if I were willing to make out that way with Dan…no matter why. I love Jim but I think…I thought…I had these feelings for Dan. How could I love Jim and…and do that with Dan?”
Trixie hesitated before continuing. “Then Dan sends me this letter. He said…he claims…anyway he said that he felt bad about what happened and he was glad nothing more did, because he didn’t want to me to think…So I’m done with Dan.” She laughed nervously. “If there ever ws anything to be done with. And I can’t string Jim along until I’m sure about my feelings. I think the only way I can get my head clear is to stay away from both guys, all guys, for a while. Does any of this make sense?” She sat back down.
Diana swung around to face Trixie and then took both of her hands. “I think so. At least I understand why you want some time. It sounds like you and Dan just got carried away. But I could understand your…feeling that maybe…”
“I betrayed Jim?” Trixie’s voice quivered as she asked.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I think you would. At least that’s how I feel. But it might be good. If I was so quick to…to kiss Dan, how can I say I love Jim?”
“You need to tell Jim if you’re breaking up.”
“Don’t you understand? That’s why I’ve been so…I’m upset and worried about Dan, but what can I say to Jim that won’t make him even angrier than he has been? He’s been so…so jealous of Dan and now I actually gave him a reason to be.”
Diana wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d seen how insecure Jim was about the time and attention Trixie had been giving to Dan. She’d been suspicious herself. And she was familiar with the famous Frayne temper.
“If you’re not going to be seeing Dan, I’d leave him out of it entirely,” she finally offered. “But you have to talk to Jim. Telling him you need space isn’t deceiving him. If he claims it’s because of Dan, you can be honest by saying that this isn’t so you can be with Dan. It’s so you can decide what you want, without any influence or pressure.”
“When did you get so wise, Diana Lynch?” Trixie reached over and hugged her friend.
“Who says I haven’t always been?”
Diana grabbed her tumbler from the holder on the arm of her chaise. Seeing it was empty, she stood up and walked over to the table where they had set their things. She held up the pitcher of tea they’d brought out earlier that was also empty. “I’m thirsty. Would you like some more iced tea?”
Trixie turned and reclined back in the chair. “Sounds good.”
“Be right back.” Diana headed up to the house.
Trixie leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep.
“I hope you’re wearing suntan lotion.”
Trixie jumped, startled from her daydreaming. “Jim! My word! You almost gave me a heart attack.” She looked up at the handsome redhead and her heart leapt at the look of concern and adoration he gave her. How could she break up with someone so fine-looking and…and wonderful?
“May I sit here, or are you going to order me to leave.” Jim pointed to the chair where Diana had been lounging.
“Diana…she went for drinks…but go ahead. I’m not going to yell at you unless you start a fight.”
“I went by the Farm and your mother said you were here. I have to talk to you and tell you how sorry I am, Trixie. My behavior was inexcusable and you were right to yell at me at the party.” Jim sat on the chair facing her. “In fact, my behavior has been…
“I probably over-reacted.” Trixie sat up and turned to face Jim. “It seems we’ve both been… We’re both stressed out and… The flowers were lovely, Jim, and your letters…it was rude of me not to take your calls or thank you. But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’ve made a decision. I just haven’t known how to tell you.”
“I’ve been a total ass the past few months—heck, for the past year. I’ve been so concerned about my own…myself, I’ve treated all of my friends badly—especially you, Trix. I… I haven’t been very good at showing you how much you mean to me.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about that!” Trixie laughed nervously. “But that’s only played a small part of my deciding that I need time—not just time away from you, but time to focus on myself. This past year…the past couple of years, I’ve felt like my entire world was falling apart. All of the Bob-Whites have scattered and we see each other less and less. Last summer, when you went to Basic Training, was like the final straw. It all became so real to me.”
“But, I told you…” Jim started to interrupt.
“Please!” Trixie stood up to emphasize her need to be heard. “You, Brian and Mart were already scattered, Honey was heading to Barnard and Diana to Binghamton, and the Bob-Whites were becoming nothing more than a fond memory. I knew you weren’t going far for Basic Training—and that it was only six weeks—but it was symbolic. Each of the Bob-Whites was gone. I tried to tell you how I felt when you came home…
“I understood. Why do you think I wanted you to come to Boston with me?”
“Let me finish! The only thing that hadn’t changed was my desire to be a detective— I’d been accepted into the program at John Jay, even though I’d be taking classes at community college to save money. I had the opportunity to study at the best CJ school in the country and become a real detective. I didn’t then and I still don’t know for sure if there will ever be a Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency, but I was still pursuing my personal dream. That’s the only thing that hasn’t changed!
“Then you came back, and when I tried to tell you how I felt—so lost—you wouldn’t let me explain. Your solution was for me to give up that dream of going to John Jay.”
“You never…I just wanted—want—us to be together.” Jim’s temper was starting to flare. “I thought that was what you wanted, too.”
“Would you let me finish?” Trixie stepped forward. “I don’t think you’ve ever understood how much John Jay means to me. For you, the solution to all of our problems has been to get married and move to Boston. Boston, Jim? Further away from my family and friends, much less John Jay? You’ve never considered that I might want both. And the harder I’ve tried to explain it to you, the more convinced you’ve become that…the more insistent you’ve become that I move to Boston.”
Trixie dropped back down onto the chair. “That’s the first time I’ve been able to finish what I wanted to say.”
“I…I’m sorry.” Jim stared at his feet, knowing Trixie was right.
“I know you are. But I’ve decided that I’m not going to Boston. I’m not going to obsess about the Bob-Whites scattering across the nation and who knows where without me. I can’t stop caring or worrying entirely, but it’s taking a back seat for now. I’m going to focus on my studies. Molinson is working at getting me a part-time job at the Sleepyside PD. I made Dean’s List this past semester and I can do it again. But I can’t do either if I’m as confused and upset as I have been the past few months.”
“Are you…are we… What about us?”
“I need a break. It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving you, Jim. I just need time apart—for myself--to be sure I can love you without sacrificing my other dreams.”
Jim stood up and started to turn, then looked down at Trixie. “I don’t want you to…I want us to share our dreams together. I don’t know what else to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything, Jim. I’d like you to understand, but you don’t have to. I’m not sure I do. Just give me some time and space.”
Jim started to lean down to kiss Trixie, but when she didn’t respond, he backed away. He stood silently before turning and heading back across the manicured lawn.
Trixie watched as Jim headed over to his Jeep. He didn’t seem happy, but at least he wasn’t storming off the way he had the night of the party. She just hoped she hadn’t destroyed everything she had with him. He was, after all, the most wonderful young man she’d ever met, if not the most stubborn, too.
"You got no motivation. Do you hear me, maggots? Listen up. I will give you motivation. You have no espirit de corps. I will give you espirit de corps. You have no traditions. I will give you traditions. And I will show you how to live up to them."
Gunnery Sergeant Henke strutted back and forth, ramrod straight, hands on hips. "GET UP! GET UP!"
Dan and a hundred and nineteen other recruits got up, sweating, knees sore, hands gritty.
The Sergeant mumbled to his three junior drill instructors: "What a miserable herd of..." Then to the recruits, "You scumbags are too slow. Hit the deck."
They dropped down.
“UP!”
They jumped up.
"HIT IT!"
They all dropped down.
The Sergeant continued to strut back and forth, stepping over the struggling bodies, stomping fingers or kicking ribs of those who appeared weakest. So far Dan had managed to not get picked out of the crowd, but he knew it would be just that much worse when he came into the crosshairs.
"Jesus H. Christ. You maggots are huffing and puffing like girls!”
“MANGAN! UP!”
Dan jumped up. “Yes, SIR!” He managed to respond, gasping for air.
“Not up to it, Mangan?”
“SIR. NO, SIR! I mean…SIR. YES, SIR!”
“What kind of name is that? Man-Gan? Think you’re a man? Man-Gan. You look more like Girly- Man to me. Are you a girly man, Man-Gan?
“SIR. NO, SIR!”
“Down! Girly-Man. HIT THE DECK!”
Dan dropped down with the others.
"GET UP! GET UP!"
Dan jumped up, every muscle in his body screaming at him to rest. He knew this was nothing; nothing compared to what loomed ahead, in Boot Camp and beyond.
“Down!”
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