In The Unlikely Event Part 14

WINTER BREAK.

PRESIDENT TRUMAN VISITS LITTLE WHITE HOUSE.

JAN. 21 (UPI)-The President flew to Key West, Florida, yesterday for a lengthy visit to his "Little White House" retreat on the Navy base at the southernmost point of the United States. His arrival was greeted with full presidential courtesies-simultaneous 21-gun salutes from USS Gilmore and USS Yosemite in the harbor, and the playing of ruffles and flourishes followed by the national anthem by the Marine drum and bugle corps.

The President is able to continue working at this remote location thanks to thrice-weekly mail courier service from Washington. The USS Williamsburg, equipped with duplex radio teletype equipment, was dispatched ahead of the President's visit and moored at the Navy base. It will provide a cla.s.sified circuit to the Navy Department and the White House.

This morning President Truman enjoyed his daily walk to the beach one mile away, where he swam in the Atlantic Ocean and watched his staff engage in a vigorous volleyball match. The movie "The Model and the Marriage Broker" will be shown in the living room this evening.

Mrs. Truman remained in Washington at the bedside of her mother, who is ill, and was unable to join her husband. They spoke on the telephone last night, which they will do every evening. He also spoke on the phone with his daughter, Margaret, who is performing in Birmingham.

14.

Kathy On Tuesday afternoon, January 22, Kathy Stein sat at her desk finishing her final exam in English lit, stealing glances at her watch, praying she'd finish in time to make her plane from Syracuse to Newark. She had a taxi lined up to deliver her to the airfield, and the second she turned in her blue book she raced out of Sloc.u.m Hall, taking the steps two at a time, never mind the ice, and was relieved to see the cab waiting. She tossed her bag into the backseat and told the driver to step on it. He handed her a line about the weather. "You want to get there in one piece, or not?" Well, yes, she wanted to get there in one piece, but she wanted to get there. The driver had the heat turned up to what felt like 100 degrees but there was nothing to do about that but roll down her window. "It's not enough I have a sore throat?" The driver coughed to make his point. "You want me to get pneumonia?"

She paid him, leapt out before he'd come to a full stop and ran for the field. When she saw that her plane would be half an hour late, she relaxed. She was one of four students from Syracuse waiting to board American Airlines Flight 6780 heading to Newark Airport. Like her, they'd finished their exams and were going home for a break before second semester began. Kathy was the only girl among them, making her wish her roommate, Jane, had been able to come. She kidded around with the boys while they waited, bought a pack of Juicy Fruit and a copy of Silver Screen to distract her during the flight.

The weather was nasty, but who cared? Her cousin Phil would be meeting her at Newark, and he'd promised to bring his friend Steve Osner. Not that she and Steve had talked about officially dating or anything, but he liked her-she could tell. There was definitely an attraction between them. Not to mention that sweet Happy New Year kiss. She wasn't going to worry about the difference in their ages. Everyone knew that wives outlived their husbands.

The plane had already picked up pa.s.sengers in Buffalo and Rochester when it finally landed in Syracuse. Kathy boarded and was seated next to an older man, who introduced himself as Robert Patterson. When he asked what she was studying she hid her movie magazine, not wanting him to think she was some dumb girl. He was very friendly. Told her he had a son and three daughters. Told her he was the former Secretary of War under President Truman. Gads, Kathy thought, he was someone important, someone famous.

He wanted to know her plans for the future. Said it was never too early to have goals. She was embarra.s.sed. She'd never really thought beyond graduating from the college of home economics, marrying someone with possibilities and having a couple of kids. "I'm going to work for a food magazine," she said, trying to impress him. Working for a magazine sounded glamorous to her. She'd have to live in New York. She was pretty sure that's where the magazines had their offices. Or she could commute.

By the time they began their descent into Newark, she had it all worked out in her head. She'd marry Steve Osner, work for a magazine in New York until they had children and live in Elizabeth, in the same pretty neighborhood as Steve's parents, where the streets were named after poets-Kipling, Browning, Byron, Sh.e.l.ley. When she'd mentioned to Steve that she loved the names of the streets around his house Steve had seemed surprised. "Really?" he'd asked. "English poets?" Oh, well, the required freshman English lit course would fix that.

It had been a b.u.mpy trip, and she was starting to feel queasy. "I don't like it when I can't see the ground," she told Secretary Patterson.

He told her to focus on something straight ahead. Don't look out the window. She figured he knew, being a former Secretary of War and all. So she focused on the fasten-seat-belt sign, willing herself not to give in to the waves of nausea rolling over her. Focus...focus...think about Steve, who'd be there when she landed. Should she give him a hug? Would that be too forward? "I actually hate it when I can't see the ground," she said.

Secretary Patterson took her hand. He smiled at her. "It will be okay," he said in a very rea.s.suring voice. She nodded. It would be okay.

Steve Steve and Phil cut American history, their last cla.s.s of the day, to meet Kathy at the airport. After umpteen years of American history they still hadn't made it to World War II, never mind Korea. Phil borrowed his mother's car that morning, a blue Ford convertible, but given today's foggy, rainy weather, they couldn't put the top down the way they'd planned. Who in their right minds would put the top down in the middle of January, anyway? a.s.suming Steve and Phil were in their right minds, and some people might dispute that, starting with their American history teacher.

He and Phil couldn't wait until graduation. They already had summer jobs lined up at Shackamaxon Country Club as parking attendants. Both the Osners and the Steins were members. Maybe Phil's cute cousin would spend time around the pool. Yeah, that'd be good. He wouldn't mind getting a long look at Kathy in a bathing suit. Ever since they'd kissed on New Year's Eve he'd been thinking about her. He and Phil were already trying to decide which fraternity to pledge when they got to Syracuse next fall. Kathy had given them the lowdown on each. Not that they'd know if they were accepted at the college until April, but with their grades, SAT scores and sports, they weren't worried.

Newark Airport was just three miles from Jefferson High School. They hit some traffic on Route 1 because of the rain but they still made it in plenty of time. They parked in the airport lot, then ran from the car to the terminal. No umbrellas for them. Only pansies carried umbrellas, they told themselves, shaking the water off their heads. They planned to meet Kathy at the gate. Instead they met her mother, Phil's aunt, who decided to pick up Kathy after all. "In this weather I didn't want you boys to have to drive all the way to Perth Amboy, then back to Elizabeth."

Steve tried to hide his disappointment. He'd had a different idea about how the afternoon would go, and it didn't include Kathy's mother.

Laura Laura Barnes didn't like this weather. She looked out the window of her first-floor apartment on South Street, holding the baby in her arms. Today's flight was nothing, she reminded herself. Just a Convair 240 on a milk run. Something Tim had done hundreds of times. He could do it in his sleep. Not that he would, but still...On the kitchen radio Patti Page was singing "Tennessee Waltz." Laura began to dance around with the baby in her arms. Heather squealed with delight. Laura paused again at the living room window. This fog is crazy, she thought. They never had fog in January. And all this rain. It must be the January thaw.

Her three-year-old was still napping. If only she could get the baby to sleep, she'd be able to rest her back, which was killing her. She was pregnant with their third child, expecting in July. She and Tim were both secretly hoping for a boy after two girls, though neither would admit it. On Valentine's Day they'd be moving into their new house down the sh.o.r.e, with enough room for three children, not to mention two full baths. She'd never had her own bath-well, she'd be sharing with Tim, but still-a grown-ups only bathroom.

Their apartment was already feeling cramped. Even though her parents owned this house and lived upstairs, which was a huge help, she was ready for the move. They'd worked on the new house all weekend while her parents watched the girls. She measured for curtains in the bedrooms, and lined the kitchen shelves with wallpaper in a pretty pattern left over from her cousin's new kitchen, while Tim worked on building a cedar closet in the attic.

Before driving back they'd stopped for a sh.o.r.e dinner to celebrate their anniversary. She promised that next time she'd at least taste the lobster. Tim laughed. He was more adventurous than her in every way, but he didn't seem to mind. Only a month ago he'd returned from Korean airlift duty. Then it was a round-trip to Tokyo. She was so proud of her husband. He'd seen the world. Someday, when the children were grown, she'd travel with him.

She'd already prepared a meat loaf for supper. Tim loved her meat loaf. She just had to pop it in the oven. The potatoes were peeled, sitting in ice water, ready for boiling. She'd take out the frozen peas at the last minute. Bird's Eye vegetables were a G.o.dsend, never mind what her mother said. Of course, nothing beat her mother-in-law, Helen's, cooking. She'd be at work now in the Osners' fancy kitchen, watching over Dr. Osner's little girl while preparing dinner for the family. Maybe someday, when Helen retired and had more time, she'd help out Laura, moving down the sh.o.r.e and taking care of the three kids. Then Laura could go back to school, get her degree in education and teach kindergarten or first grade. At the very least, Helen could show her how to fix those fancy meals she made for the Osners.

The baby jumped up and down in her arms until she started dancing again. She sang along with Patti Page. "I was dancin' with my darlin' to the Tennessee Waltz..."

Miri Miri and Natalie rode the #24 bus from school, got off at the corner of Sh.e.l.ley and Magie, then walked down to the Osners' house. In the kitchen Fern was dunking Oreos in milk while Mrs. Barnes prepared dinner. Whatever she was browning on the stove smelled delicious. The salad leaves were drying in a cloth towel, waiting to be torn into an ebony bowl with Corinne's initials in silver. CMO for "Corinne Mendelsohn Osner." Someday, when Miri was married with her own house, she would have the same salad bowl with her initials in silver. MAM for "Miri Ammerman McKittrick"-if she married Mason. But would Irene ever forgive her for marrying a boy who wasn't Jewish? Maybe she would just spell out MIRI and leave her husband out of it.

"Will Tim fly over our house today?" Fern asked Mrs. Barnes.

"I expect so," Mrs. Barnes said. "Any minute now, unless they were delayed by the weather."

Fern pretended to feed an Oreo to her cowboy bunny. "Roy Rabbit might be a pilot when he grows up."

"I hope he's smart," Mrs. Barnes said, "because you have to be smart to be a pilot."

"Don't worry," Fern said. "Roy Rabbit is very smart."

Natalie grabbed a bunch of green grapes and she and Miri headed for the den, where the windows looked down on a stand of j.a.panese cherry trees, bare now, but come spring she knew they'd be heavy with pink blossoms. She wished it could be spring now. Then she and Mason wouldn't have to worry about where to go to be alone and warm.

Natalie tuned the television to the Kate Smith show, though it wasn't quite four o'clock, while Miri made a quick phone call to remind Irene she was at Natalie's for the afternoon. Then both girls settled on the floor. Miri popped a grape into her mouth. Natalie rested her head on Miri's lap. "Play with my hair," she said.

Miri lifted one soft curl, then another.

"What are you thinking?" Natalie asked, looking up at her.

"Guess," Miri said.

"I'll bet it's about Mason."

"Not really."

"I'll bet you think about him every minute of every day."

"I think of him a lot but I wasn't thinking of him just now."

"Are you in love with him?"

"I've only known him thirty-eight days, not that I'm counting."

"My mother says she knew from the minute she first looked into my father's eyes she was going to be with him for the rest of her life. She says it came to her in a flash, like lightning."

"I haven't had that flash yet," Miri said, which was a complete lie. Didn't she know it the night they danced together in Natalie's finished bas.e.m.e.nt? And if not then, at the Y, the first time they kissed? Who was she kidding? But what went on between her and Mason was private. That's how she knew it was special. Every other time she'd liked a boy she'd blabbed to all her friends about him. But not this time.

"Are we still best friends?" Natalie asked out of nowhere, winding a piece of gray wool she'd found on the carpet around her finger.

"I can't believe you have to ask," Miri said.

"It's just that lately you've been so..." Natalie stopped, searching for just the right word. "Remote," she finally said, looking satisfied.

Miri was stung. "You go to New York for dance cla.s.ses three days a week and you're calling me remote?"

Natalie sat up. "I didn't think you even noticed I was gone. You're always with Mason, or you're babysitting with Suzanne." Natalie smoothed down her curls. "Even at school you hang out with Robo more than me."

"I do not."

"You sit with her every day at lunch, laughing."

"You're at the same lunch table."

"But n.o.body laughs with me."

Miri looked at Natalie and realized it was true.

Christina Mr. Durkee, who taught bookkeeping at Battin, asked Christina to a.s.sist with his late cla.s.s. Christina was his star pupil. If she didn't mess up, she'd be graduating first among the girls in the business program.

Today she'd be working late at Dr. O's office. Mrs. Jones and her daughters were coming in for checkups. Daisy scheduled their appointments after hours because Mrs. Osner was afraid if Dr. O's regular patients discovered Dr. O was treating colored people they might be upset, they might even switch to a different dentist. Dr. O, on the other hand, believed Mrs. Jones and her daughters deserved the best dental care. He had Daisy set up a plan for them with a sizable discount because, after all, she worked for the Osners and her girls were polite and doing well at school.

As long as she left school by 3:45 p.m. she'd make it to Dr. O's office in time. While the students were at their desks, taking a test, Christina grabbed her raincoat and umbrella. She was glad she was wearing old shoes in this crazy weather. She heard a plane overhead but when she looked out the window she couldn't see anything the fog was so dense.

Suddenly, the building rumbled. The girls looked up from their test papers, a few of them rushing to the windows in time to see a twin-engine plane thunder out of the fog, heading straight for them. One girl screamed. Another crossed herself and started a Hail Mary. Christina was sure the plane was coming through the window into the cla.s.sroom.

"Get back from the gla.s.s!" Mr. Durkee shouted. "Duck and cover!" But there was almost no time. The engine of the plane went quiet as it barely sailed over the roof of the school. The first explosion caused the windows to rattle, the second, louder explosion shook the building.

"Oh my G.o.d-Jack!" Christina cried. "Jack...Jack..." She ran from the cla.s.sroom with Mr. Durkee calling after her, "Christina-stay inside. Christina!"

She flew down the two flights of stairs, then used the white marble steps from the first floor to the street, steps the students were not allowed to use. Outside, she rounded the corner of South and Williamson streets and raced toward the flames, toward Mrs. O'Malley's house, where Jack rented a room on the second floor.

Miri Kate Smith hadn't even sung "G.o.d Bless America" when the program was interrupted by an announcement, an announcement so horrible it left her and Natalie immobile. A second plane had crashed in Elizabeth, this time near Battin High School. Before they had time to digest what they'd just heard, the sound of a long, low wail came from the kitchen. Without a word the two girls were on their feet, racing down the stairs. They found Mrs. Barnes doubled over, holding on to the kitchen counter. "No...please, G.o.d, no!"

Natalie pulled open the door to the finished bas.e.m.e.nt, closed it behind her and disappeared. Miri grabbed a plastic gla.s.s from the counter, filled it with water and tried to give it to Mrs. Barnes, but Mrs. Barnes, who had always seemed so in control, so calm, no matter what, knocked it away.

The deep voice on the radio continued. "An American Airlines Convair, en route to Newark Airport from Buffalo, with stops in Rochester and Syracuse, has crashed and exploded..." Now Mrs. Barnes screamed, fell to the floor, banging her fists, pulling at her own hair. Fern squatted beside her. "Barnesy...stop, please stop." Miri had never heard Fern or anyone else call her Barnesy.

Mrs. Barnes didn't let up. She wailed, "Tim...Timmy!"

"Barnesy!" Fern cried. "Barnesy, you're scaring me."

Miri didn't know what to do so she picked up the phone and dialed Dr. O's office. When Daisy answered, Miri cried it was Mrs. Barnes's son flying that plane and Mrs. Barnes was on the floor and wouldn't get up.

Daisy told her to stay with Mrs. Barnes, not to leave her for a second, and she and Dr. O were on their way. Miri knew from health cla.s.s when someone was in shock you should keep them warm, so she sent Fern upstairs to get a blanket, then, as an afterthought, a pillow, too.

Fern came back with a pillow and quilt from Natalie's room and Miri draped it over Mrs. Barnes, who had gone quiet and white as a ghost, lying on her back on the floor. Miri slid the pillow under Mrs. Barnes's head. Her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. Miri wondered if she was in shock or if it was something worse. Fern sat close to Mrs. Barnes, stroking her hand. "Barnesy, I need you to take care of me. Roy Rabbit needs you." She nuzzled Mrs. Barnes with her toy rabbit. But Mrs. Barnes didn't respond.

Laura Laura heard the explosions but it was the general fire alarm that filled her with dread. She knew Tim was due in at about that time. The noise of the alarm woke the toddler, Evie, who started screaming. Laura ran to the girls' room, lifted Evie out of her crib and patted her back. "There, there, sweetie, everything's okay." That started the baby, Heather, crying. When word came over the radio that it was a plane, an American Airlines Convair, Laura knew for sure. She lay down on her bed with the toddler and the baby cradled on either side of her and began to sing, "Hush, little babies, don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."

Steve At first he and Phil didn't get what the commotion at the American Airlines counter was about. It wasn't until Phil's aunt screamed-a chilling scream you could hear throughout the terminal, a scream that would haunt him the rest of his life-that they understood something had happened to the plane. Phil rushed to his aunt's side with Steve right behind him, but she had already collapsed and two airline employees were trying to get her to her feet. Phil tossed the keys to the blue Ford convertible to Steve. "Drive it back to my house, okay?"

"Sure," Steve said. "Whatever I can do to help, you know?"

But Steve didn't have any idea how to help. He called his father's office from a phone booth. His father would know what to do. His father would offer to come and get him and Steve would say, Okay. But there was no answer at his father's office. He wished he'd never come to the airport. He wished he'd stayed at school, then gone to the Y to shoot baskets.

n.o.body asked if he was okay enough to drive, which he wasn't, but somehow he made it back to Elizabeth, to Phil's house, where he pulled the blue convertible into the driveway, turned off the ignition, rested his head against the wheel and gave in to the emotion washing over him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried, felt his own tears hot and wet running down his face, his throat tight, his nose snotty. He took in a couple of big gulps, willed himself to stop, then got out of the car and started out for home, kicking at stones, leftover chunks of gray snow, whatever was in his way. f.u.c.k f.u.c.k f.u.c.k!

Christina Hundreds of people were running with Christina, all of them separated from the roaring fire by just a dozen yards. But only she was screaming Jack's name, until she turned the corner and saw it wasn't Jack's house on fire. It was the wooden house down the street and the house next to that, and where there used to be a three-story brick apartment building was rubble and thick black smoke-the whole area a blazing mess, with flames so blindingly bright red and orange she had to turn away. She covered her ears with her hands, against the screaming sirens.

There was no sign of the plane, or the people on it. She was stuck in a nightmare where something terrible was happening but she was powerless. She willed herself to move but she couldn't. Her feet were too heavy, as if they were encased in wet cement and she couldn't lift them. When she looked down she saw her feet were covered in mud up to her ankles-mud from the rain and the fire hoses.

Jack is safe, she told herself, working for the electric company in Westfield or Cranford or some other nearby city. Jack is safe. Unless, because of the weather, he's not. No, he is. He has to be.

Christina, who never showed her emotions in public, didn't try to restrain herself this time. She cried out as she saw a woman, her own clothes on fire, frantically pushing a small child rolled up in a rug at a neighbor. The woman tried to rush back into the flaming house, screaming, My baby, my baby, but others held her away. People were running from the burning houses. A boy with his jacket on fire was grabbed by a man, who threw off his overcoat and wrapped the boy in it, putting out the flames.

The girls from the modern dance club in their blue leotards were on the scene, with the gym teacher. Groups of other students who had club meetings after school were hugging each other and crying. A few of them called to her, but she didn't answer.

She caught a glimpse of Jack's landlady, and in an instant she was chasing after her. "Mrs. O'Malley...Mrs. O'Malley..." Christina called, until Mrs. O'Malley stopped. "Mrs. O'Malley, I'm Jack McKittrick's friend, Christina. Was he home? Is he okay?"

Mrs. O'Malley gave her a puzzled look. "Jack?"

"Yes, Jack McKittrick. He rents from you."

"Are you his sister?"

"No, I'm his friend, Christina."

"I always thought you were his sister."

What was she talking about?

"He's not home," Mrs. O'Malley said. "I don't know where he is."

"At work," Christina said. "He's at work. Right?"

"I hope so, dear."

- THE WORLD MAY HAVE BEEN falling apart but at Dr. O's office everything was serene. Christina pulled down the hastily scribbled note taped to the office door apologizing for the emergency that had taken both Daisy and Dr. O away. She got out of her muddy shoes before unlocking the door with the key Daisy had given to her at Christmas. She was safe now. She prayed Jack was safe, too. She scrubbed her feet in the toilet, flushing again and again, wiped herself clean with disposable towels and changed into her white lab coat and shoes. She had no clean socks, no stockings. She'd have to wear her shoes with bare feet. She pinned up her dark hair, washed her face and gargled with Lavoris. Only then did she sit in Daisy's swivel chair, in front of the Remington typewriter and the leather appointment book, calmly calling patients, asking them to call tomorrow to reschedule.