The Homecoming (30 page)
His dad smiled widely, almost as if he was about to laugh. Was he hearing anything Shawn was saying? It didn’t seem like it was sinking in.
“Could you lift my head a little bit?” his father asked.
“What? Sure.”
As he did, his father reached his hand beneath his pillow and pulled. Pinched between his fingers were two sheets of wrinkled paper. “You looking for this?” he asked, handing it to Shawn.
It was his mom’s letter.
“I’ve had it under my pillow for over a month, read it every night.”
Now Shawn smiled. He couldn’t believe it.
“And I know exactly what she was talking about now, about the gospel, I mean, what Jesus did for us on the cross. I don’t think I ever understood it before. I thought the most important thing was me doing things for God. But the most important thing was what Jesus did for me, and me putting all my hope there. I don’t know when the lights came on, but when they did . . . I’m actually looking forward to heading out of here now.”
Tears rolled down Shawn’s face. Tears of joy, of relief. “I’m so glad, Dad.”
“You going to be okay now?” his father asked.
“More than okay, Dad. You get some sleep now. I’ll be fine.”
The next day, it was clear . . . the war in Europe was very near its end. At 8:00 p.m., British commander Field Marshall Montgomery reported to the supreme allied command that all enemy forces in Holland, northwest Germany, and Denmark had surrendered. The Russians were on the verge of capturing Berlin.
Across the Atlantic, it was early afternoon in the Philadelphia area. Shawn had taken another turn watching his dad for Katherine and Mrs. Fortini. He was sitting in his father’s favorite chair looking at some photo albums he’d brought down from the attic. He’d grown used to the rhythm of his father’s gentle snoring over his shoulder. Today was supposed to be Shawn’s last day before heading back to Long Island to resume his flight duties at Grumman.
He carefully turned a page in the photo album when the snoring simply stopped. At first, Shawn thought nothing of it. He listened closely a few moments and didn’t hear him breathing at all. Shawn got up. “Dad, you okay?” He shook him gently, but he didn’t respond. Shawn checked his pulse, but he could already tell.
He was gone.
Ian Collins had received a great mercy, dying peacefully in his sleep in his bed at home.
Shawn stayed with him a few moments more, then walked next door. Katherine and Mrs. Fortini instantly knew what happened the moment Shawn walked through the door. Shawn didn’t cry until he saw them. Then Mrs. Fortini hugged Shawn, and she began to cry too. Shawn looked up and saw Katherine sitting at the dining room table, her head down, also crying. He comforted them with the news about how peacefully he died, then asked, “Where is Patrick?”
He was playing at Kevin’s around the corner. So Shawn walked over there, regaining his composure along the way. Patrick and Kevin were playing in the front yard. As soon as Patrick saw his dad, he ran over and wrapped his arms around him. “Daddy!” he yelled.
Shawn bent down and said quietly, “Patrick . . . Grandpa’s with Mommy and Grandma now.” It took a moment for the news to sink in. Patrick looked into his father’s eyes, saw the tears beginning to form, and understood. He collapsed in his father’s arms, sobbing. Shawn held him for a moment, then picked him up. “Sorry, Kevin, Patrick’s grandfather just passed away. I’ve got to take him home.” Kevin nodded, a look of confusion on his face.
Halfway home, Patrick stopped crying. As they turned into Mrs. Fortini’s driveway, he said, “I think I can walk now.” They walked inside holding hands.
Mrs. Fortini had put on a pot of coffee and had a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Patrick. Shawn excused himself, saying he needed to go next door and call Dr. Matthews, then start making the necessary arrangements.
Respecting his father’s wishes, Shawn arranged for a wake and funeral mass three days later, conducted by Father O’Malley down at St. Joseph’s. It was followed by a short graveside service. Shawn, Katherine, and Mrs. Fortini put all their rationing coupons together and hosted a nice lunch in Mrs. Fortini’s home for Father O’Malley and the handful of neighbors who came by. Patrick held up quite well through it all.
After the crowd had left, Shawn said, “I’ve got to report back this afternoon. The colonel said he could only give me a couple of extra days when I called him after Dad passed. But I’m going to pull some strings when I get there, see if I can’t get a week or two off real soon. I hate leaving you guys.”
“We understand, Shawn,” said Mrs. Fortini. “We’ll make do until you come back.”
Shawn looked at Katherine. “Thanks for all the help these past few days. It’s meant a lot having you here.”
He bent down and gave Patrick a big hug. “I’ll get back here just as soon as I can. This war should be over any day now. If that happens, I think they may let me come home for good.”
“Really?” Patrick asked.
“I think so. You be good for Miss Townsend and Mrs. Fortini till I get back.”
“I will.”
Shawn went upstairs to use the bathroom and get his duffel bag. Katherine quietly walked over to her purse in the living room, pulled out an envelope, and stuck it in the back sleeve of Shawn’s brief bag by the front door. Shawn came back down, grabbed his brief bag and hat, and, after a final wave, headed out the door.
Shawn arrived back at Grumman just after 8:00 p.m. He was surprised to find the factory closed; all the evening shift workers had been given the night off and the next day. The employees still at the plant and the test pilots were all laughing and celebrating the news.
Earlier that day, the German leaders who’d replaced Adolph Hitler had signed documents signaling Germany’s unconditional surrender. Tomorrow, May 8, the whole world would find out.
The war in Europe was over.
Shawn could hardly believe it. It had been coming for weeks, but now that it was here, it felt almost unreal. He didn’t even know how to respond. The sadness of his father’s death was still so vivid, but this news was so fantastic, he couldn’t help but laugh. He set his bags down on his bunk and decided to join a makeshift party already underway downstairs.
Someone had gotten hold of a bottle of champagne and passed it around. Shawn drank two glasses, even though he couldn’t stand the stuff. His fellow test pilots all began to reminisce and tell stories of their exploits over the past four years; occasionally someone offered a toast for their buddies who’d paid the ultimate price. Shawn thought about his crew from
Mama’s Kitchen
and wondered where they were tonight, how they were celebrating the news.
An hour later, Shawn slipped out the door and headed back up to his room, totally exhausted. He shifted his bags from the bed to a chair. As he did, his brief bag fell on the floor. A white envelope fell out. Written across the front it said: “Major Collins.”
He recognized Katherine’s handwriting. This couldn’t be good. He sat down on the bunk and opened the envelope:
May 7th, 1945
Major Collins
,
This has to be the hardest letter I’ve ever written. I’m writing this because I can’t see myself ever finding the courage to say these things to you in person. Mrs. Fortini is the only person I’ve talked to about any of this (just so you know, she understands the reasons for my decision but thinks I should have talked to you in person)
.
I’ll just say it. I’ve decided to move to New Jersey to pursue a relationship with Al Baker (you remember Al). I’ve been seeing him every other week or so for the last few months. I’m sorry I haven’t told you, but we don’t ever talk about my life on a personal level, and I couldn’t think of a way to bring it up
.
He’s been discharged from the service and works in his father’s business. They’ve offered me a job and a place to stay. Al has been asking me to consider this for a while, using his words, to “move things to the next level.” Hard to do that when we live so far apart.
I have loved working for you and love Patrick as if he were my own. I’m sorry for not being able to give you two weeks’ notice, but I can’t imagine being around you or him even a few days after deciding to leave (as I said, I am a terrible coward, the pain would be unbearable). Mrs. Fortini said she’d be more than willing to care for him until you find another nanny.
I wish you all the best, and will pray for you both every day. You are a wonderful man
.
Sincerely
,
Katherine (Miss Townsend)
“No, no, no,” Shawn said aloud. “Lord, she can’t do this. She can’t leave.” He looked at his watch. It was too late to call. He stood up. Should he drive over there? No, the car pool would be closed for the night. He could call a taxi, catch a late train, be there by midnight. But then he’d wake everybody up, scare them half to death at this hour.
Wait a minute, he couldn’t just leave. He was still in the military; he needed permission. The war is over, he thought, it’ll be all over the news tomorrow. His CO would have to let him go, he was sure of it.
He set his alarm to wake him at sunrise. He didn’t care if it meant going AWOL. One way or another, he had to stop Katherine from leaving.
May 8, 1945, was a day for the ages.
Millions of people throughout America, England, France, Russia, and so many other nations awoke to a world without Hitler, without Nazis, without bombs and battles and bloodshed. People alive on this day would remember it for the rest of their lives. The powers that be decided to call it V-E Day—Victory in Europe.
Shawn Collins would remember this day also, but for a different reason.
He did get up at sunrise and, after locating his commanding officer, was released to do whatever he pleased. “No missions today,” he’d said. “In fact, I don’t care what you do today, Major Collins. As for me, I plan to get plastered and stay plastered pretty much the entire day.”
Shawn got showered and dressed in his finest uniform then ate some breakfast at the mess hall. He decided that was long enough. They should be awake by now. He walked out to the phone booth he always used to call home, within eyesight of the main gate. As he dialed Mrs. Fortini’s number, he watched as one Grumman worker after another arrived, those who hadn’t yet heard the news. They were too far away for him to hear, but he saw the jubilant reaction as each one was told they had the day off and why.
Mrs. Fortini’s phone rang only twice.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Fortini?”
“Shawn, isn’t it wonderful? I just saw the morning headlines. My Dominic will be coming home soon.”
“I know,” Shawn said. “It’s almost too hard to believe.” There was a pause. Shawn didn’t know what to say.
“But I suppose that’s not the reason you’re calling. Is it about Katherine’s letter?”
“Mrs. Fortini . . . I don’t know what to do. I can’t let her walk out of my life. Is she there?”
“No, she’s not.”
“I’m too late?”
“Not exactly. Her bags are packed and by the door. She wanted to slip out before Patrick woke up. She’s next door, gathering a few things she left over there. You could call back in ten minutes or so.”
“No, I need to see her, to talk to her in person. Would you do me a favor? I’m going to send a telegram to her. I don’t know if it will do any good, but please ask her to stay long enough to read it. I’m going to hang up right now and get it sent. Would you do that?”
“I’ll ask her, Shawn. But she seemed pretty set in her plans.”
“Please try.”
He hung up and literally ran to the Western Union office nearest the Grumman factory. There was such a long line. He seemed to be the only one in line not jumping with excitement. As he neared the counter, he could hear the messages of those just in front of him, all about the war ending, and wasn’t it great, and how they’d be catching the next train home.
“Next.”
What should he say? What words could he say that might get her to at least give him a chance?
“Sir, we’re sort of in a hurry here.”
“I’m sorry,” Shawn said. “I want to get this sent right away. I’ll pay double or triple if I have to. But it’s got to be sent right away.”
“We can do that. So what’s the message?”
Shawn thought just a moment. “Okay, here it is . . .”
KATHERINE,
PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME. PATRICK NEEDS YOU.
I THINK I NEED YOU EVEN MORE.
WE NEED TO TALK IN PERSON—TODAY.
MEET ME AT THE EAGLE.
I CAN BE THERE BY NOON. PLEASE.
SHAWN
“Did you say
eagle
?” the man asked.
“She’ll know what I mean,” Shawn said.
“Whatever you say.”
Shawn walked out to the first busy street and hailed a taxi. “I need to get to the train station right away.”
“Why so glum, pal? Didn’t you hear? The war’s over.”
“I’m not glum, just in a hurry. I need to catch a train in twenty minutes.”
“Hop in.”
Shawn made it to the station just in time to catch the 9:00 a.m. train to Philadelphia.
The train was mobbed; he had to stand for most of the two-and-a-half-hour ride. Everyone was in high spirits. News of the war’s end dominated every conversation. Shawn could only think about one thing.
Losing Katherine.
How had he been so foolish not to at least give her some hint about his feelings? He’d taken her totally for granted. It was Katherine. She was Patrick’s nanny. She would never leave. He remembered what she’d said in her letter.
We don’t
ever talk about my life on a personal level
. He realized it was true. They never did. Obviously, she had wanted to, but he’d been afraid of where any such conversation would lead. Well, here’s where his great idea had led them. She was about to walk out of his life forever.
Lord
, he prayed,
please let her get my telegram in time.
Please don’t let her leave.
When the train pulled into the 30th Street Station, it took forever for Shawn to make his way through the mob out to Market Street. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, the city had been transformed, like New Year’s Eve at midday. Buses and trolleys were barely moving. The streets were packed with people hugging and kissing. Confetti was falling from the sky above. There was no chance of finding a taxi to take him a mile down the road to the Wanamaker’s Building.