Bridge of Scarlet Leaves. Kristina McMorris

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СКАЧАТЬ jarred him from his reverie and he turned to face her. A warm half-smile rewarded her gesture. Then he glanced up as though recalling their audience, and the corners of his mouth fell. He squeezed her palm once, a message in the release, before leaning away.

      For the rest of the trip, this was how they remained. Divided by a wall they’d had no say in constructing. Through the night hours, she heard him toss and turn on the berth beneath her; through the daylight hours, his gaze latched onto the mountains and valleys hurtling past.

      Upon their debarking in Los Angeles, the contrast between Friday and Monday struck her like a slap. It seemed mere moments ago when she had stood on this platform, the same suitcase at her feet. Yet everything had since changed.

      “Extra, extra!” the paperboy in the station hollered. “U.S. going to war! Read all about it!” His pitch carried easily over the graveness of the crowd. In small huddles, customers followed his order with newspapers propped in their hands. Headlines blared in thick black letters.

      “Do you want me to come home with you?” Maddie asked Lane as they exited the station. The rustiness of her voice underscored the length of their silence.

      “Nah, you’d best get home.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Your brother’s got to be worried about you. It’s better if I check on my family alone.”

      Of course. Nobody back here knew about their secret excursion. Now was hardly the time to announce their blissful news.

      Lane added, “I’ll have a cab drop you on the way to my house, all right?”

      She agreed, relieved they’d be together a little longer before facing the unknown.

      A peaceful sunset glowed orange and pink as they approached the taxi stop. Lane swung open the back door of a Checker cab, inviting Maddie to slide in. He ducked in after her to take his seat.

      “Whoa there, buddy!” the driver called out. “Uh-uh, no way. I ain’t driving no Jap.”

      Lane became a statue, one leg in, one out.

      “You heard me, pal!” The cabbie white-knuckled his steering wheel. Bystanders paused to observe the scene, pointing, not bothering to whisper.

      “It’s okay,” Maddie assured the driver, “we’re getting out.” She scooted back toward Lane, who blocked her from rising.

      “No,” he told her. “You go ahead.”

      “But, Lane . . .”

      “I’ll take the next one.”

      “Well—what if they won’t—”

      “Then I’ll ride the bus.”

      The driver’s steely look bounced off the rearview mirror. “You goin’ or not, lady? Make up your mind.”

      Lane tenderly touched her chin. “Honey, don’t worry. I’ll swing by as soon as I can.” The surety in his tone caused her to relent. She made room for him to place her suitcase beside her. He had barely closed the door when the cabbie screeched away with the speed and power of fear.

      Maddie strained to keep Lane in her view until the taxi veered around a corner. Grip on her luggage, she sat back in her seat.

      Seven days, she told herself as they rumbled down streets that now felt foreign. In seven days God had created the Earth. In a single day mankind had turned it upside down.

      14

      Free hand curled into a fist, TJ waited for the call to connect. Any more pacing and his shoes would leave a permanent groove in the floor. His ear felt feverish against the metal receiver. Behind him in the living room, a floor model radio delivered seeds of hysteria. The quiet of dusk amplified the man’s reports: mandated blackouts, potential sub sightings, a climbing toll of Navy casualties, a list of precautions to keep families safe.

      At last came a buzzing on the line. Years lingered between each ring.

      “Answer it,” TJ snapped.

      Another ring . . . and another . . .

      “Allisters.” It was one of Jo’s brothers, didn’t matter which. They all sounded alike.

      “It’s TJ Kern. I was wondering—”

      “Who?” The question competed with chaotic conversations in the background.

      “TJ,” he repeated louder.

      “You callin’ about the meeting?”

      “Meeting?” TJ said, thrown off.

      “The block meeting.” The guy sounded annoyed. “For standing guard at the beaches. We’re figuring out shifts. You wanna come, we’ll pick you up on the way.”

      Jesus. Were enemies invading the coast? TJ had never even held a rifle before. Apparently it was time he learned.

      “Uh, yeah. Okay.”

      “Fine. See ya soon.”

      Then TJ recalled his greater concern. “Wait, don’t hang up.”

      A mumbled response trickled through, indiscernible amid the noise.

      “I was looking for Maddie. I know she and Jo were supposed to be up north, visiting—”

      “Hang on.” He yelled in a muffle, “Shut your traps, will ya?” The volume lowered half a notch. “Now, what’re you sayin’?”

      TJ rubbed his thumb over the knuckle of his fist, bridling his own annoyance. “I was asking about Jo.”

      “Hey, Jo! Phone’s for you!” TJ winced from the guy hollering into the mouthpiece. A rustling and a clunk followed.

      As TJ waited, relief swept over him. Jo was back in town. That meant Maddie must have stopped over at the Allisters’ on the way home.

      “Hello?”

      “Jo. Thank God. Is Maddie still there?”

      “TJ, is that you? Here, let me go in the other room.” More sounds of rustling with the handset and cord, then the chatter dimmed. “I swear, I can’t hear myself think in this place.”

      No wonder she retreated to the ballpark to find some peace.

      “I was just trying to find Maddie,” he said, “since I hadn’t heard from her yet.”

      “Oh. I don’t know. She didn’t tell me what time she’d be home from her trip.”

      “I—don’t understand. Didn’t you two travel together?”

      “Together? No. Why’s that?”

      He wasn’t in the mood for razzing, if that’s what this was. “To visit your СКАЧАТЬ