A slim transistor radio hangs precariously on a thin branch. It bobs this way and that over the grass in tune to the music. “I’ve Got the World on a String” by Frank Sinatra. Suddenly the radio slides from the branch and lands with a gentle thud on the grass. Anne gasps flinging her wide white rimmed sunglasses from her head and grabbing at her radio. Breathing a sigh of relief as Lil’ Junior Parker starts up.

She turns back to her open book which is sits on a prickly striped blanket spread upon the grass. The sun glints above hot and red. She can smell the aroma of grilled meat and her mouth begins to water. Abandoning her book, a novel by Ira Levin, she grabs her white low-heeled sandals and makes her way to the glass doors along the back of the small bungalow she shares with her husband Jack. The coolness of the wood paneled walls of the small sitting room beckon her after the melting L.A. sun. But she continues on until she reaches the small cramped kitchen with its patterned blue and white tiles and humming Frigidaire. Her husband Jack is stands at the hot plate flipping a large brisket with one hand while holding a dripping bottle of Miller in the other.

Anne’s caramel colored arms encircle his waist and they sway together a moment. Anne sighs heavily. She and Jack have been married all of 4 months. The late Winter ceremony, held in St. Brigid’s Catholic Church back home in Manhattan, had been a quiet one. Only close family and friends. Her father Joe, Jack’s parents Bobby Sr. and Lizzie, and a few friends and neighbors, like old Mrs. Mcgillicutty from next door. Wheezing and chatty. Asking about her mother. As if she was still there, in their little home on Eldridge and had never left. Her mother was the only one who ever seemed to talk to Mrs. Mcgillicutty. Even her own children tended to look right through her. But her mother would go over and sit next to the old woman on her crumbling stoop. Anne had no idea what they talked about but there was always an air of rigidness in her mother’s back.

Then came the wedding. Her mother was not there – of course.

It was with mixed emotions that the ceremony was so quick. Jack had enlisted the previous month. He left for boot camp a week after their wedding. He was just over one hundred miles from her in San Diego but she felt as though he were light years away from her. The days were long, the nights longer. She spent many nights with small tears drying on her cheeks. She wished they’d stayed in New York.

He had been “too young for the Great War” and insisted on serving and determined to “be a part of the next one!”  He would get his wish –less than 4 months after they were married he would be sent off to a place North of Yeoncheon in Korea. 

Next Chapter: Lyllian, May 2017, Seattle