Bluegrass Dawn: Bluegrass Single #2 (Bluegrass Singles) (2 page)

CHAPTER ONE

Keeneston

December 1, 1969

Jake Davies took the porch stairs two at a time. The cold weather caused him to shiver, or it could have been his nerves. Tonight was going to change the rest of his life. He just hoped it changed for the better.

He rapped his hand on Marcy’s front door and waited for her mother to answer.  After dating for over a year and a half, they had developed a routine of sorts. He’d finish working on the farm and then he would wash up and go to the Faulkner house. Sometimes they ate dinner together. Sometimes he took Marcy to the new Blossom Café for a milkshake. Sometimes they’d sit at the pond and he’d just hold her.

The door opened and Mrs. Faulkner opened the door with a worried look on her face. “Good evening, Jake. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Mrs. Faulkner was plump with graying hair and little glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her eyes darted around as she twisted her apron. “It’s such a shame what they are doing to you young boys. The tension on the news—I can’t wait for this war to be over.”

Jake tried to relax, but as he walked inside he found the television already on and the news reporter outlining the upcoming events. His stomach plummeted as he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“How is your mother handling it? She’s more than welcome to come watch. I know you don’t have a television.”

“Thank you, ma’am. My mother said she didn’t want to know. I think she’ll sneak into the kitchen and listen to the radio, though.”

“Jake!” He looked up and saw Marcy racing down the stairs. Her shoulder-length hair was flipped up at the end and held back from her face with a wide black headband. Her short skirt made her mother shake her head. But it made Jake smile. He loved the short skirts she wore with tights and knee boots.

Gosh, he loved her. They had been inseparable since their night in jail. They had been through the death of his father, and then two of their friends from high school during the Vietnam War. They had talked about life after the war and after she graduated high school in six months. He had already talked to her father and received permission to ask her to marry him. He just needed to find the perfect time to propose.

Marcy grabbed his hand and pulled him to the couch. “I can’t believe they are doing this. All these men fighting and now they’re doing a lottery—why, Father James is even thinking he’ll have to leave the church to help provide comfort and guidance to the troops. And did you know Jimmy White was injured? Norma said he might have lost the use of his right arm.”

Jake gulped and nodded. He’d heard about Jimmy. John Wolfe had told him yesterday, but he hadn’t wanted to worry Marcy. Every morning he would run into John at the Blossom Café when he delivered fresh eggs and bacon to Daisy Mae and Violet Fae Rose, the owners of the Blossom Café. The café had turned into the town hub as soon as it opened on Main Street in Keeneston.

The quaint town had been founded back in the days when Kentucky was the western frontier of America. It had kept its small town charm even as larger cities grew up around it. Flags flew on every light pole, windows sparkled, flowers bloomed, and in the winter garland and white Christmas lights lined the street.

“But, I’m sure you're going to be fine. I mean, there are 365 days of the year. What are the chances your birthday will be drawn early enough in the draft lottery that you have to go overseas?” Marcy was trying to sound positive, but he could hear the worry in her voice.

“Congressman Pirnie is representing the United States Military Affairs Committee . . .” the voice of an old man with white hair and big, thick glasses said as the equally old congressman stepped in front of the cameras. So, these were the men deciding the fate of America’s youth.

Marcy fell silent and Jake gripped her hand for support as he kept his eyes on the clear bowl of little blue balls that were about to change the lives of every man in America.

“We are going to ask him to choose the first one . . .” the head of the Selective Service committee said as the congressman stepped forward and reached his hand into the bowl. His hand grabbed many balls, but they dropped back into the bowl until only one small blue ball remained clutched in his fingers. He handed it off and another man cracked the ball like an Easter egg and pulled out a piece of tightly rolled paper.

Marcy squeezed his hand and Jake leaned forward as the camera kept a steady image of the man’s hands unrolling the paper with the first birthdate on it.

“September 14
th
” the man called out.

There was a collective gasp and Jake felt his stomach drop. He’d just been drafted. He was to report in one month for service.

Marcy felt tears pressing on her eyes. She had to be strong. She couldn’t believe it. They were so happy and now he was being forced to leave to fight in this pissing contest of a war. No, she wasn’t going to be bitter. It wasn’t Jake’s fault or any of these young men being forced to serve. She needed to keep a brave face and make sure he and the rest of the boys over there knew they were loved and supported back home.

“I can’t believe it,” Jake mumbled as he sat rigid next to her.

“You can enlist and serve four years like my brothers. They had the ability to go into another branch of the military and have less of a chance ending up in the jungle.”

“Come on, Father, let’s let these two have some time together,” Mrs. Faulkner whispered as she pulled her husband from the room.

“What do I know about fighting? Killing? I guess I will have to learn and learn quickly.”

“Jake, no matter what happens, I will be waiting for you here. I will love you forever and you will come back to me.” Marcy threw her arms around his neck and felt him slowly loosen up as she gripped him for all she was worth.

“I can’t ask you to do that, Marcy. I could be gone for two years or I could be gone forever. You’re young, beautiful, and smart. You shouldn’t put your life on hold for me while I go off to fight this war. It’s not fair of me to ask that of you.”

Marcy fingered Jake’s class ring that hung on a necklace around her throat. “You’re not asking me. I’m telling you. I love you and nothing will change that.”

“But, marriage, children, a house of your own . . . you’re giving that all up to be with me?”

“I’m not giving it up. I’ll have all of that with you because you will come back to me.”

Marcy saw the panic in his eyes. She saw Jake trying frantically to come to terms with his new future.

“The fourteenth birthday in the draft is April 11
th
,” the voice said on television.

Marcy saw Jake whip his head around and look at the television. “What? What is it?”

“That’s William Ashton’s birthday. It looks as if there will be several of us from Keeneston leaving next month.”

“And there will be women who love you who will pray for you and wait with open arms for you to come home safe.”

Jake shook his head. “I need to go. I’m sorry, Marcy. I need to process this somehow. I’ll see you tomorrow after school, okay?”

The hardest thing Marcy had ever done was to rise up on her tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Whatever you need, Jake. I’ll always be here for you.”

CHAPTER TWO

Marcy descended the gray concrete stairs of the Keeneston High School with her arms wrapped tightly around her books. She had hoped school would be a diversion to the dark thoughts running through her head, but it only made them worse.

She hadn’t slept the night before due to her worry, and it seemed the draft was all they could talk about in school. Many brothers, cousins, neighbors, and friends had been drafted. In all, ten men from their small town were involuntarily leaving in a month to begin the process of deployment. Another fifteen men had already volunteered or were going to volunteer to avoid being drafted.

“Marcy! Oh, my gosh, I heard about Jake and had to see you.” Betsy Ashton slammed the door to her powder blue Mustang and rushed up the stairs. Marcy was wrapped into a hug before she could even say hello to her best friend.

“Oh, Betsy. I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so sorry about William.”

“At least they will be over there together. I feel better about that.” Betsy wiped a tear from her eye and dragged Marcy down the stairs. “We have to stick together and help each other out. I have to learn how to run his farm before he leaves next month. What do I know about breeding and training race horses?”

“Betsy, you’ll have those horses running faster than they ever did just to get a scratch on the nose from you,” Marcy laughed. Betsy had such a good heart that you couldn’t help but fall in love with her.

Betsy laughed and squeezed Marcy's arm. “I sure hope so. Now, how are you doing?”

Marcy let out a long breath. “Every time I close my eyes I see him lying in the jungle . . .”

“Oh, Marcy!” Betsy enveloped her in another hug and let her cry. Normally Marcy would be embarrassed. Having grown up with two tough-as-nails brothers, crying meant she just got picked on more. But she held nothing back at the thought of losing the love of her life. “We’ll have each other and we can do anything if we work together.”

Marcy gave a sniffle and nodded as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “You’re right. We have to be strong and show them every day what they have to look forward to upon return. No more tears until they leave.”

“I have to go meet William at the farm and learn the stud book.” Betsy shot her a wry grin. “It’s not nearly as interesting as you would think.”

Marcy couldn’t stop the giggle that came out and soon they were laughing together. Only her best friend could make her smile at a time like this. As Marcy watched Betsy hurry back to her Mustang, she wondered how she was going to hide her misery and fear from Jake.

*     *     *

Jake tossed the bales of hay to the top of the stack. Over and over again, he picked up rectangular bale after rectangular bale and carried them to the back of the barn to stack them neatly. Even though it was cold out, he’d shed his coat and rolled up the sleeves on his flannel shirt. He had to think about the future and stacking hay helped him think. No longer could he think of a happy life married to Marcy. Now it was how many bales of hay his mom would need to get them to spring on her own. How to teach her to plow the fields in the spring and how to plant the vegetables they would need.

He had talked to Mr. Tabernacle, their neighbor down the road, and Tabby agreed to help as much as he could. He was too old for the draft but was supporting the troops in a different way. He was going to help all the families that were left behind. William told Jake that Tabby was going to check on Betsy every other day and help her keep the farm running smoothly. And Jake knew that his mother would appreciate having him stop by for dinner every now and then just so she wouldn’t have to be alone.

But what about Marcy? She would be alone. She had her parents, but that wasn't a lot in her world. After being together the past year, Jake came to realize her mother was anything but supportive. Jake wrapped his leather-clad hands around the twine and lifted the hundred-pound bale and carried it to the back of the barn. The thought of Marcy being left behind to be romanced by all the men who had somehow escaped the hell caused by the draft sent the bale of hay flying through the air. Images of Marcy alone also filled his mind. Could he ask her to wait for him? The guilt tore at him because he knew he could never just give her up.

*     *     *

Marcy sat and stared at her parents. Moving! They were moving. How could they do this to her? “Your brother Scott is getting married before he ships out. He wants us there to help with his new wife,” her mother stated as she folded laundry.

“But what about me?” Marcy cried. “I’m graduating in six months. And what about Jake? And my friends? And my life here?”

“Stop being so melodramatic, Marcy. You can finish high school in South Carolina. And it’s not like Jake will be here waiting for you. He’s going to be fighting for his country far away from Keeneston. If Jake hasn’t asked you to marry him yet, he’s not going to. Plus, your brother Kevin says he has a lot of friends dying to meet you. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

Marcy felt like stomping the ground if it hadn’t just fallen out from underneath her. “Mom! How can you even suggest that? You know I’m with Jake.”

Her mother let out a long breath and sat down on Marcy’s twin bed. “Dear, we need to talk about that. He’s been drafted and if he goes overseas, you know there is a good chance he’s not coming back. It’s better to move on with your life now while you have these good memories.”

“No. I refuse to toss him aside because of this draft. If he dies over there . . .” Marcy paused and took a deep breath to control her emotions. “If he dies over there, it will be with the knowledge that I’m here supporting and loving him.”

“I hate to do this, Marcy, but you’ve left me no choice. You’re coming, end of discussion. We leave after school lets out for Christmas.” Her mother stood and picked up the basket of laundry. “You better talk to Jake and let him know. Then I expect you to come home and start packing. You forget you have two brothers serving and they deserve your loyalty.”

“But not my life. We’ve always done everything for them. When have you ever put me first? It’s always Scott’s football games or Kevin’s basketball games. It was never my track meets. Those just got in the way of their games. It was always them!”

“That’s a woman’s lot in life. It’s better you learn it now. Do you think it will be any different when you get married? Then it will be moving for your husband’s job and cooking the dinner your husband wants to eat. It’s just the way it is and you need to grow up and see that women play an important role in holding the family together,” her mother snapped.

“It’s not going to be for me. Jake loves me. I’ll be happy to cook him whatever he wants, but I’m not going to stop being me either. He would never want me to do that. And if I ever have kids, I'm going to love them all equally. And if I have a daughter, she’ll be able to do whatever she wants to with my support!”

Marcy stormed past her mother and ran down the narrow stairs. She paused to grab her coat and to glare at her father.

“Marcy, darling, you need to accept this,” he said from over his newspaper.

“And you need to let Mom decide what to make for dinner,” Marcy shot back as she slammed the front door.