Season of My Enemy, page 15
Calvin watched her speaking, but he clearly seemed confused.
“Unless you don’t want to, Calvin. We understand.” Mom must have taken his confusion for other kinds of uncertainties. He hadn’t had the opportunity to become accustomed to home without Dad the way they all had. Suddenly, Dad’s loss felt fresh again.
Fannie forced her shoulders to relax. She touched his arm with light fingertips, and when he flashed her a look, she mouthed, “Tell them.”
“Sorry.” He pushed his plate back so he could rest his elbows on the table. He shrugged. “I thought maybe Fannie would tell you while I was upstairs.”
“Tell us what?” Mom’s face lost its joy as her lips fell into a small line. He glanced at Fannie.
“It’s okay, Mom,” she said. “Cal didn’t want to have to tell you. His injury. It’s his hearing.”
“His—”
“I’m deaf.” He looked around at all of them. “I can’t hear.” He bounced his foot and shifted. Then he shrugged. “Deaf as a rock.”
Now everyone did stare.
“It’s all right.” Fannie forced a smile at them, encouraging them out of their shock. Hadn’t he told her he could hear muffled sounds? Why did he exaggerate? “Everything will be all right.”
Mom recovered but sat down slowly. “That’s right.” She waited for his attention and then nodded. “It’s. All. Right.” She enunciated each word.
They were all staring still, their earlier joy stifling completely.
“Sure.” Calvin directed his eyes to his plate and focused on serving himself, effectively blocking out their further encouragements. Apparently, he did not feel the same.
CHAPTER 14
After dinner, Calvin excused himself to his old room to settle in. It was just as well. They needed time to absorb the news, each in their own way. No one crowded him anymore. Jerry headed outdoors without comment. Mom chased Patsy off to do the evening milking, with an added stern warning not to pester Calvin about his condition. Fannie helped her mom with supper cleanup, but they worked silently for a while.
“How did you know?” Mom finally asked, while she scoured the heavy pot. “Did he tell you, or did you guess?”
“He told me. I’d no idea.” She placed a plate on the shelf and lowered the dish towel in her hands as she turned to face her mother. “He said he wanted to tell you, but he was afraid to write it in a letter.”
Mom’s hands stilled in the sudsy water. Then she drew them out and wiped them on her apron, catching a sob. Fannie reached for her, and Mom sucked in a breath, stanching her tears. She shook her head and pushed away. “It’s going to be fine. God brought him home to us, and that’s the main thing. I just need to pray.”
“Maybe his hearing will return.”
Hope and doubt battled in Mom’s red-eyed glimpse. “We will pray for it, but it’ll be fine whether or not God heals him. Did Cal say it might be temporary?”
Fannie shook her head. She turned back to drying the rest of the dishes, removing herself into her own thoughts about Cal’s condition. Was there a chance he might regain his hearing? How had he lost it? All the blasts probably. They would likely learn more in time.
They finished the dishes in time for Patsy to come in with the milk pail and set up the strainer in the sink. Once the milk was strained and refrigerated, Mom glanced toward the doorway and then to Fannie and Patsy. “We’re not going to treat him like he’s broken, but he will need time. You just act like yourself.”
Fannie looked at Patsy. “He can understand a few things we say if it’s short and we give him time to see our lips. If we speak loudly, maybe he can hear a little.”
“Where did Jerry go?” Mom asked absently.
“I’m sure he’s processing Cal’s condition too.”
“Poor Cal,” Patsy whispered with a glance between them.
“You don’t have to whisper, Pats.” Fannie pushed away from the cupboard. “I’ll go find Jerry.”
“What about the workers? Did you mention them?” Mom’s question halted Fannie.
She shook her head. “I’ll tell him though, if you want me to. It’s something I’ll have to write down for him.”
“Let me know when you do.”
Fannie nodded and pushed out the door. She stood on the edge of the porch and glanced over the farmyard, searching for Jerry. Darkness edged the lawn. Shadows played around the buildings and bushes. She squinted across the field toward the outline of the woods. “Jer?” she called. “You out here?”
“Back here!” His voice called from behind the shed.
She strolled across the yard and walked around the back of the building. She found him standing there, his back to the wall, his gaze across the shadowy distant field while he picked at the bark of a short stick in his hands. He didn’t acknowledge her but swatted a mosquito on his arm with the end of the stick.
“Just thinking about Cal?”
“Yep.” He turned and pressed his shoulder into the shed wall. “I wonder if he really wants to be home. Maybe he’d rather be there fighting still.”
“What makes you say that?”
Jerry shrugged his other shoulder. “That’s what I’d want if it were me. Maybe he wishes he didn’t get sent home.”
Fannie leaned back against the shed. “Oh, I don’t know. I think he’s glad enough to be here. He’s just worried about what it’ll mean—not being able to hear.”
“Won’t matter none to running a tractor or doing just about anything else around here.”
“I know, but I’m sure it makes him sad. Can you imagine not being able to hear a bird sing?”
Jerry waved at a mosquito trying to land on his forehead. “Nope.”
“Mom said to treat him like normal. Not to push him, but to let him know that he hasn’t changed as far as we’re concerned.”
“He is changed.”
“Because he’s deaf?”
“I mean he’s different. I can tell. He’s been out there”—he raised his chin—“in the world. It’s made him different.”
“I suppose you’re right. I don’t know if it’s the world or the war, but he’s bound to have been affected.”
They fell silent then, and Fannie turned to the darkness. Stars popped out overhead but in patches. More clouds must be moving in. The mosquitoes soon developed a cloud of their own, biting and buzzing in her ears.
“I can’t take it anymore. I’m going inside.” She pushed away from the shed.
“I’ll come too.”
Inside the house, light spilled from the living room. Fannie wandered in to see that Calvin had come downstairs and was reading last Sunday’s paper. Mom was sitting on the davenport across from him, her needlework in her hands. Patsy was buried in a book on the other end. Jerry strolled over to Cal and tapped his shoulder.
“Checkers?” He pointed at the side table by the window where a couple of board games and a deck of cards sat in their boxes.
Calvin hesitated but then nodded. “Why not?”
Fannie breathed deeply, happy that Jerry had taken the lead in pulling Calvin into their world. “I’m going to go wash my hair. Church tomorrow.”
Mom kept at her needlework without looking up. “Fannie … if you don’t mind, I think we might stay home tomorrow. Give Calvin a little longer to settle in. Of course, you can still go if you want.”
“Oh. Well, not if everyone isn’t going. I want to stay with you and Calvin too.” Disappointment sank in, and it took her a long moment to realize she’d been hoping to see the prisoners in attendance.
No. Truth pricked at her consciousness. She’d hoped to see Wolf.
She lifted her chin and admonished herself. “I think I’ll wash my hair anyway.”
“Will you wash mine for me, Fannie?” Patsy spoke without raising her eyes from the pages of her book. “I love it when you wash my hair. It feels so good.”
Fannie laughed. “Sure. If you heat up the water when I’m done.”
“Holler when you’re done heating yours.”
An hour later, after they’d both gotten their hair washed and they’d tidied up the mess, their brothers were just finishing their game of checkers. Fannie noticed that Jerry had the pad and paper and had been writing notes to Calvin during the game.
Thank You for Jerry’s help, Lord. She needed to be purposeful in praying for Cal. It was not the time to stop now, just because he was with them. She strolled over to them and bent to hug Calvin. “I’m going to brush my hair and get myself to bed early.” She motioned putting her head on her hands, palms pressed together, and closing her eyes.
“See you at breakfast,” Cal said.
She nodded. Once inside her room with the door closed, she turned and looked at the made-up bed. She wasn’t really very tired. It was still early. She just wanted to be alone like Jerry had earlier. She still hadn’t really processed Cal’s arrival and condition herself. Jerry was right. Cal’s deafness wouldn’t affect the work he could do on the farm, but maybe he had other worries. He used to see a girl from time to time. Liza Brachman. He hadn’t mentioned her in his letters home, and Fannie didn’t know if they were waiting for each other or even if they had been serious. Yet maybe Cal wondered about her now—or wondered how any woman would receive his disability. Cal was handsome, and he’d never lacked for notice from girls, but maybe that would change.
She felt sorry for Cal to think of it, then just as quickly scolded herself. “Feeling sorry for him is exactly what he expects but doesn’t want.” She strode across the room and stripped out of her clothes. While she slipped a cotton nightgown over her head, she reminded herself that Cal’s hearing loss might not be permanent. That was something she wouldn’t hold off asking him about. She wanted to know what the doctors told him.
The next day, Calvin joined them late for breakfast. He looked well rested, yet there was something missing in his step. He moved with a kind of uncertainty, like this wasn’t home anymore or at least not the home he remembered. Mom set a plate of eggs and toast in front of him before he was halfway seated. She followed it up with a cup of rich, black coffee.
“Wow!” Fannie couldn’t hold back her surprise. Coffee rationing had kept them drinking their coffee weak for months.
“It’s a special Sunday,” Mom said with a smile. She served the rest of them and sat down with her own plate. “Let’s pray.”
They bowed their heads, and Mom led them in prayer. Was Fannie the only one thinking about how Cal couldn’t hear the words being said? Mom thanked God for Calvin’s return, for the good bean harvest, and for the food. She spoke in her normal voice, not raising it for Cal’s benefit. She asked for rain and said “amen.” The whole thing ended so abruptly that Fannie didn’t doubt Mom had also belatedly thought of Calvin’s separation from them in their prayer. Fannie tapped Cal’s leg when Mom finished, letting him discreetly know the prayer had ended. He raised his head as though he had listened intently to every word.
Jerry reached over his plate for the pad of paper. “We each need to have one of these by our sides,” he muttered. He scribbled a note in what Mom called his chicken scratching and held it up to Calvin. Want to take a ride to town later?
“You’re driving?” Calvin said with a smirk.
“You bet I am. Better than you,” Jerry said loudly. He held up his finger in a pause and proceeded to write down his remark.
“On a tractor maybe.”
Jerry laughed.
Mom was writing on the paper now. She held it out to Cal. With a quick read, his shrug was noncommittal. Fannie leaned over to see what she’d written.
We’ll be picking again in a few days. Think you remember what to do? Cal had helped Dad manage the workers in the past. He and Dale took turns driving the loads to the cannery. Sometimes they both went. Afterward, if the picking was done for the day, they might go fishing or stop at the grocer and bring back treats for the rest of them.
Cal chewed on a sausage and watched Mom like he was thinking about her question. Finally, he swallowed. “What do you mean? Where are the workers anyway? I didn’t notice anyone around.”
“They’ll be here.” Mom’s voice sounded cryptic to Fannie’s way of thinking. Did Cal notice?
“Hm.” He went back to finishing his breakfast. “I probably shouldn’t drive with people around.”
“Why not?” Fannie grabbed the tablet and wrote down the words she’d blurted.
“Not safe.”
“Pfft.” She made sure he saw her disbelief, rolling her eyes with disgust at the idea. She wrote again. Now was as good a time as any to ask her question. What do the doctors say? Will your hearing come back? She put the paper under his nose.
He looked at the words then shoveled the remainder of his eggs into his mouth. She waited, watching him. At last, he shook his head. “No. They say there’s probably permanent damage to the nerves. Besides that, my brain took a pretty big concussion. It can’t get the sound signals right anymore.” He pushed his chair away from the table and picked up his plate, turning his back as he carried it to the sink.
She bored the family with a hard look. Patsy jumped up and carried her plate to the sink. When she got where Cal couldn’t pass her, she deposited her plate and made swimming motions. “Want to go swimming in the creek later?”
He ruffled her hair. “We’ll see.”
“Hey!” She pulled away, wrinkling her nose in annoyance.
“I think I’ll go out and have another look at the fields.”
Jerry got up from the table. “Mind if I come along?” He gestured to himself and at Cal to make his question clear.
“Suit yourself.” Cal pushed out the screen door, and Jerry hurried to catch up.
Fannie scraped some butter onto her toast. “You didn’t mention who the workers are.”
Her mother poured a second cup of dark coffee. “I didn’t see the need.”
“Don’t you think he’ll mind?”
Mom looked at Fannie over her cup. “Mind?”
Fannie sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter either way. We need the help.” Cal not knowing about the PWs made her uneasy. What would he think of German soldiers here on their farm? Maybe even men he’d fought somewhere, for all she knew. She had loathed the idea of them coming here, and she hadn’t even seen the ugly side of war that Cal had. She’d hated them for simply being Germans and for what the Germans were doing to their American boys over there. She despised the fact that some of the fellows whom she’d grown up alongside, gone to school with, or pitched peas beside were even now fighting and dying at German hands. Others like Dale were getting captured and put into prison camps. Yet she’d seen none of it firsthand. Cal had.
The reminder made her nervous. What was more, she no longer felt the strength of her own hatred like she had earlier. As much as she’d wanted to hang on to those feelings of wanting to get even with the Germans in some private way, she couldn’t. The PWs worked hard for them. They never complained so that she heard. They were gracious, even thankful for the opportunity for good food and cool drinks—for an occasional dip in the creek. They didn’t seem to take the leniency of their captors for granted.
Except in the case of the water in the gas cans, Fannie reminded herself. Maybe she’d let her guard down too far.
The kitchen door swung open with a crash. Fannie nearly jumped out of her skin. Mom sloshed her coffee on the tablecloth. Cal stood before them, his face a black cloud of fury. “I can’t believe you’ve brought them here!”
There was no point asking who he meant. Fannie’s surprise was only in that she hadn’t expected to learn of his reaction to the news so quickly.
“Cal.”
“You expect me to work out there with them?” He ground his jaw so hard it bulged and his nostrils flared. “I’ll shoot them all down dead before I work side by side with them.”
“Calvin.” Mom’s jaw dropped as she stood to her feet. “You mustn’t say such things.” She spoke louder than they usually heard her speak, but Fannie doubted Calvin heard more than a muffle of thunder. It didn’t matter. He must have understood her expression.
“Do you have any idea what I’ve seen them do, Mother? Any at all? Can you imagine what it’s like to see your best friend blown to bits or a bullet tear through the brain of the man next to you?”
Mom teared up. “Son.”
“Or watch a man get tangled up in barbed wire while machine gun fire riddles through him until he’s nothing more than a—a rag?”
“Calvin. We need the workers.” Mom’s voice quavered.
Fannie stepped around the table and braced a hand on her mom’s arm. She looked hard at her brother. She pointed at herself and her mother. “We can’t do all the work alone, Cal. Dad’s gone!” She shouted, not in anger but in hope he’d hear something. “Dad is dead!” she repeated, feeling like a knife blade slid into her chest when she said it. “Pats is young.” She shook her head and felt the sting of tears but fought them back. “We can’t do it all alone.”
He knew they were arguing the point. She could see it mixed in his angry expression, but his fists didn’t loosen at his sides.
Fannie scrambled for the paper and wrote down the words. We can’t do the work alone without you and Dad and Dale. We can’t!!! She handed him the pad, but he flung it away so that some pages tore free and fluttered across the floor.
“Go ahead and bring them then,” he growled through gritted teeth. “But don’t expect me to take charge. There’s only one thing good for them, and if even one of them steps out of line, then that’s when I’ll handle things.” He pushed past them, jostling Fannie’s shoulder as he left the room.
Jerry came in, closing the door softly. “I heard,” he said. “I’m sorry. I tried to tell him easy.”
“It’s not your fault.” Mom shook her head wearily. “He’s had a hard time. I’m sure he’ll change his mind after he’s had a chance to think it over.”
Fannie looked beyond the kitchen door toward the living room and the stairway that stood between. The wake of Calvin’s anger made her shudder. She ran a hand over her arm where he’d shoved by, as though she could brush off his fury, but she couldn’t. Mom could be hopeful that Calvin would come around to see how desperately they needed the workers—and for him to take charge—but Fannie wasn’t so sure he would. She wasn’t so sure at all.
