Page 24 of All We Thought We Knew
People began to arrive. Church friends who’d watched me and my brother grow up. Neighbors. Even clients of the farm who’d purchased horses from us over the years and gradually became like family. All brought gifts for my brother and me. An alarm clock from the Johns. Floral bedsheets for my dorm room from the Pickerings. A new Bible for each of us from Pastor Arnold. There were even envelopes with cash inside. I greeted each guest, genuinely appreciative of their thoughtfulness. Mark, too, accepted handshakes and good wishes.
I’d just thanked our elderly neighbor Mrs. Gaddis for the curtains she’d sewn for me when Rusty arrived in a 1965 fire-engine-red Ford Mustang, a graduation gift from his folks. Some of my friends were with him, turning the gathering into a real party. The brand-new awareness that the world was ours now that we weren’t tethered to a brick-and-mortar school building offered a sense of freedom I’d never experienced.
We ate, laughed, danced, and ate some more, celebrating until the sun started its descent behind the hills. By the time stars began to appear in the sky, most of the guests were gone, with only Nash, his mother, and Pastor and Mrs. Arnold remaining.
I floated on cloud nine as I carried empty serving dishes to the kitchen while the adults chatted on the porch. Rusty and I had snuck off to the barn earlier, and he’d kissed me in a way that told me he was going to miss me too. But with him leaving for California in August, and me headed to Vanderbilt, neither of us wanted to commit to a long-distance relationship. We’d agreed to enjoy the summer together and leave it at that for now.
“I’d be happy to drive you boys to Nashville tomorrow.”
Pastor Arnold’s voice reached me as I made my way back intothe dining room. He must have been speaking to my brother, although I couldn’t see either of them in the living room.
My ears perked up.
I’d hoped to go to the city and do some shopping now that school was over. Neither Goldstein’s nor Strong’s Ladies Apparel had anything worthy of my new status as an incoming freshman at a prestigious school like Vanderbilt. Mark hadn’t mentioned taking a trip to Nashville, but if he and Nash were indeed going, I was determined to finagle a way to be included.
“That would be great, Coach. I think both of us would feel better if you were there. It’s a big step.”
I silently inched to the doorway, making sure to keep out of sight.
“It is, but it’s also honorable. I’m proud of both of you.”
I heard Nash mutter, “Thank you,” before Mark said, “The recruitment office opens at nine. We figure it’ll take a little over an hour to get to the city. We’ll have all our paperwork ready.”
Recruitment office? Recruitment for what? Mark and I were already enrolled at Vanderbilt, but maybe he’d finally convinced Nash to join us. Perhaps they were both planning to try out for the football team, even though Mark hadn’t shown any enthusiasm about playing college ball lately.
The screen door slammed.
I heard Mama tell Mrs. McCallum about the upcoming church bazaar as they entered the house. Mama oversaw the fundraiser, and she was always looking for donations.
“Pastor Arnold volunteered to drive Nash and me to the city tomorrow,” Mark said.
“I appreciate that, Pastor.” This from Dad. “The vet is coming to look at one of the mares first thing in the morning. Otherwise, I’d take them myself.”
Even though Dad never attended church services with us, he welcomed the preacher into our home whenever Mama suggestedthey invite him. I recalled the time I asked Mama why Dad didn’t join us in town on Sunday mornings. Granny had recently passed on to her glory, and her funeral was the first and only time I’d ever seen my father inside the church building.
“Doesn’t he believe in God?” I asked.
Mama’d caressed my cheek. “Of course he does, sweetheart. Your daddy loves Jesus. He just doesn’t feel comfortable around people.”
That simple explanation, I’d realized, described my father’s entire existence. He had no friends and only went to town if something was needed for the horses. Even at home he was quiet, preferring to listen to our chatter rather than join in. Mama didn’t seem to mind, so I’d never let it bother me. That is, not until recently.
Over the last months, he and Mark had grown closer. I’d often see them together while they worked on the tractor or walked the pastures. Many nights after dinner, when Mark and I normally sat on the porch swing and talked, he and Dad went off to the barn, leaving me alone and peeved. I should have been happy my brother was finally bonding with our father, but I felt left out. Neglected. Mark wasmytwin, after all.
Mrs. McCallum’s voice drew me back to the present. “It’s still hard to believe my son is going off to war.”
I waited for someone—Dad, Pastor Arnold, Mark—to speak up and tell Nash he was a fool. That going to Vietnam was the last thing he should do. Not only was it dangerous, but it was also unconscionable. The United States shouldn’t be involved in the politics of North and South Vietnam. We were sticking our nose into a civil war we knew nothing about. We certainly shouldn’t be dropping bombs and putting our troops in harm’s way. Even my US History teacher, Mr. Mott, grimly predicted the war in Vietnam could last for years if we continued traveling the path our country was currently on.
In the silence that followed Mrs. McCallum’s statement, I suddenly understood the trip to the city was for Nash. Mark must’vevolunteered to go with his friend to the Marine recruitment office for moral support. With the serious nature of the trip, I decided not to ask to go along. Shopping seemed rather trivial when compared to one of our schoolmates joining the military.
“God will be with them,” Pastor Arnold said. “He’ll watch over both of these fine young men as they fulfill their duty. We’ll all be praying they’re kept safe.”
I’d just reached for the bowl of what was left of the punch but paused at his words.
Who was he talking about? Mark had received a scholarship and would attend Vanderbilt with me in the fall. The most danger he’d find there was a frat party gone wild or a pretty girl who wanted to steal him away from Paula.
I tiptoed to the doorway where I could see them standing in a small circle in the center of the living room. Mark’s back was to me, so he didn’t know I was there when he said, “It’s my honor to serve my country, sir. I can’t go off to school, knowing my buddy was over there fighting while I played it safe.”
I gasped at his words. “No!”
