Two Halves: Chapter III

Chapter III: Two Plans

Amy looked at the last sentence Pete wrote. Apparently, he had felt so bad in how long it took him to return her first letter that he wrote her almost every day since. The only days he missed was when he traveled to Hawaii. Actually, he did manage to write on those travel days, he just mailed them all upon his arrival. But according to that last sentence she read, that was all about to end. This was her third time reading his latest letter.

“Amelia,” he wrote. When he called her by her birthname, she knew he was about to tell her something serious. She had explained to him that she was actually named after her mother Amelia but it was too painful for her father to call her that. So, she had become Amy. Everyone called her Amy ever since she could remember but she liked the name Amelia. Whenever Pete addressed her as Amelia, it helped her feel connected to her mom who died before she had any real memories of her. But Pete only used it on serious occasions and this occasion was no different. “It looks like I am being shipped to the Philippines. I won’t bother telling you what little I know about the place since you probably already know more about it than me. If you don’t now, I am sure you will head to the library and will gather all the information you need. Maybe you could send me places I should check out there like you did for here?”

Ever since Amy found out Pete was going to Hawaii, she spent her time after school in the library looking up all the facts she could find about the place. When she found an interesting place, she sent it to him and told him to go check it out. On his days off, he attempted to visit the places she told him about. He’d write back and tell her all about it. If he found any places on his own, he’d write and tell her about those as well. The two kept on-going lists of places they wanted to visit together after the war.

“I don’t want you to worry about me,” his letter continued. “I’m not the same guy you saw in July. I’m ready to go wherever I’m sent. After all, I have my lucky half-dollar now. I have confidence my luck will continue. No, I can’t explain it. I can just feel it.”

The back door slammed shut and Amy jumped. It was only 4:00pm, way too early for Ruth to be coming in which meant it was her dad. She sighed and slid the letter in her pocket.

“Oh,” her dad said staggering around the corner. “There she is. Bone of my bone. Flesh of my flesh.” He stumbled to her and put his hands on her shoulders looking her in the face. “Traitor.”

She was expecting the theatrics. He now knew she wanted to continue her education out of town. Not just out of town but out of state. Not just out of state but on the other side of the country.

As a university employee, her dad had always encouraged her and Ruth to continue their education. He wanted them to not waste their minds and to seek college degrees. From his university here at home. But after he had been put on probation with a return seeming less and less likely, that was the last place she wanted to be at. It was bad enough to live with the neighborhood drunk and to hear all the whispers as she walked by. Or worse, see all the pitying looks. Plus, all the bickering between her dad and Ruth had left her with a desire to leave town and to get as far away as possible. The thought to leave had never crossed her mind before. It had taken her a while to even recognize that desire in her. But when she did, she mentioned it to Pete in one of her letters. His response? Go for it. Get away. Surely, there is a way to accomplish it.

His encouragement gave her the confidence to stop by the guidance counselor’s office and check into scholarships. What she didn’t realize at the time is her dad would be notified of any scholarship she requested. When it was explained to her that her parent would be sent a letter informing him of any scholarship she pursued, she almost backed out deeming it to be too much trouble. But she reached her hand in her pocket and rubbed her half of the dollar bill and continued with the application.

So, she had been waiting for this conversation. “Hi dad,” she said the only thing she could think of.

“University of California?” he spat the words out and she had to wipe her face.

“Don’t worry,” she said getting ready to list the benefits she had been rehearsing the last two days. “I have an excellent shot at getting scholarships so you won’t have to pay for a thing.” Even if that wasn’t true, she refused to take a dime from her father. She was determined to do this without any of his so-called help. It was important that she distance herself from him in every way possible.

He looked at her for a moment. “What about our plan? You were going to go here. Stay here. You’re too young.”

“I’m not going tomorrow,” she said and stepped out of his embrace. “I’ll be 18 when I leave.”

He waved her off and walked into the kitchen. “Too young,” he said again.

She recognized that was a weak argument and knew she had him. He just had to come to terms that this was the plan. Instinctively, she reached in her pocket and began rubbing the dollar bill. “I am going to California and I’m going to study science.”

“Ha,” he yelled. She could hear him opening and closing cupboards and banging pots and pans around. “A woman scientist?” he exclaimed. She knew what he was looking for and she knew he wouldn’t find it. In anticipation for this conversation, she had poured the contents of every bottle down the drain. He may not have been very nice when he was sober but he was downright mean when he was drunk. If she was going to make it through this conversation she needed him somewhat sober. She knew this was as close as she would get to sober-dad.

“This is October 1941,” she said calmly sticking with the script she rehearsed. “Women can be scientists. Look at Marie Curie.”

“Yeah,” he said drolly, “look at her.”

“The point is, women can be scientists and make important contributions to the field.”

“But what about our plan for you to study history? We were going to go out in the field together. We had big plans.”

She sat down on a chair in the dining room. “Plans made when I was a little girl. Those were your plans. History is your field.” There was also the fact that there was no way he would be traveling to any ‘field’ to do any study at this moment. Those dreams of his were going to remain just that. Dreams.

It became quiet and still in the kitchen but she refused to even peek in.

“All the women in my life desert me,” he said slowly and joined her in the dining room. She could tell by his submissiveness that the alcohol from the bar was wearing off and he was sobering up a little bit. If he had been drinking when he said that last statement it would have come out as an accusation. Now he just sounded defeated and pathetic.

“I’m still your daughter,” she leaned forward and put her hands on his. “I still love you. I just need to get away for a while. Go and see the world.”

He looked at her but didn’t say anything.

“Pete says I’ll love California…” as soon as she said it she wished she hadn’t.

“Oh, the mighty Phantom Pete,” he said getting worked back up. “I should have known it was that boy’s idea. You’re too young to be writing a soldier.”

“Sailor,” she corrected and put her hands back in her lap. Phantom Pete was the name her dad used for Pete when he was sober. When he was drunk he called him your Precious Pete in a way that somehow managed to give her chills. “It wasn’t his idea. It was my idea. He just encouraged me to do what I thought was best.” She looked at her dad. “A courtesy I wish everyone would extend me.”

His eyes narrowed and she thought her mean and manipulative drunk-dad might still make an appearance. Instead, he sat back and shook his head. “Ungrateful,” his tone of voice turned cold. She recognized his drunk dad version was nearing the surface.

She refused to argue with him when he was like this. There was no reasoning with him.

Her silence prompted his to continue. “First, Ruth is running wild in the streets and I hear gossip about her. You don’t think I hear the gossip? But you? You were my steady one. My rock.”

He quickly fluctuated back to sober and desperate dad. Attempting to use guilt instead of bitter sarcasm. But she was not going to cave into it any longer.

“I’m going to California,” she said quietly but firmly.

They sat for a moment before he stood up.

“Where are you going?” she asked even though she knew.

“I need a drink. Something mysteriously happened to all my stash here.” He headed for the door. “Oh,” he stopped and turned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope. “Your Precious Pete’s mail.” He tossed the envelope on the table and walked out slamming the back door to announce his departure.

She exhaled slowly and took out the dollar bill. Her hands were trembling as she smoothed the bill on the table. Maybe Pete was right, maybe it was lucky. She reached over to Pete’s letter and opened it.

October 16, 1941

“Dearest Amy, good news! The dollar bill continues its lucky streak! I am not shipping out to the Philippines but will remain safely tucked away in Hawaii until at least the first of the year. I get to spend Christmas on the beach. How lucky am I? Continue to send me your lists of places to visit. I might be able to check off every single one now.”

She smiled. Pete was staying in Hawaii. She’d find a way to go to California after she graduated next school year. Two great plans. Surely this dollar bill held some amount of luck. At this very moment, she was going to believe it did.