The Merchant Marines
Section Two- Seventy dollars per month.
*New to this short story? Before beginning Section Two, you might wanna read Section One here.
Section Two
Jack was sitting over by the pool at the bottom of The Falls with Margaret when Joe walked up, so he had a seat by Rick and Henry over by the fire they’d built.
“Heya Joe, whaddya know?” Henry said as Joe sat down on the rock beside them.
“Boy look at Margret, she sure is hugged up to ole Jack over there huh? I bet she heard that he’s a Navy man now,” Joe said in a jealous tone.
“Sure she has,” Rick said. “Just wait until next month. I’ll be able to join too!”
“I’d give anything,” Joe kicked dirt into the fire. “The whole damn war will probably be over before I’m old enough to join!”
“Oh I hope it is over by then, or I might have to go too,” Henry said. “We’re the same age Joe, you and I.”
“Awe Henry, ole Uncle Sam wouldn’t want you anyway, you coward.” Joe kicked at the dirt again. “Besides, your father already has you all set. Aren’t you going off to boarding school this fall?”
“Yes, I leave next month for Connecticut.”
Rick piped up, “Well us ‘Po Folks’ ain’t got no golden ticket like you do Henry. Some of us are going to have to make our own way, and the Navy is paying over seventy-dollars a month.”
“I’d enlist for nothing,” Joe said. “Hell, I’d pay them!”
“Well Joseph,” Henry said. “If you're so determined to go get shot at, why don’t you just go on ahead and sign up?”
“For a smart guy, you sure are dumb sometimes Henry,” Joe said. “Didn’t you just say that neither of us would be old enough for almost two more years yet?”
“Yes, of course I know that. But I bet that the US government doesn’t. Just say that you’re of age.”
“That won’t work,” Joe argued. Don’t you have to show them some papers or something? Otherwise anyone could say they were anyone else.”
“Hey Jack!” Rick hollered. “Did you have to have any papers down at the Navy office to enlist?”
Jack looked perturbed at having been interrupted. “No.” He hollered back, then turned his attention back to Margaret.
“See. What did I tell you?” Henry said. “They’ll never know. Just put that you’re eighteen if you want to go get shot at so bad.”
“Oh shut up, Henry,” Joe said, as he stood up. “I’m going home, I forgot that I told Pop I would help him at the warehouse in the morning before school.”
Joe took the long way back home– Maybe Henry is right, he thought. Jack did say that they hadn’t made him show any paperwork. What if I can just say I’m eighteen? How would they know any different? I could be on a ship in just a few weeks. I could go with Jack! He passed by the house twice running the thought over and over in his mind. When he finally did turn in, he just lay there in the bed awake. He must have woken Bill when he came into the shared bedroom, because as he laid there his younger brother asked him if he’d heard any news of the war.
“I listened to the radio down at the filling-station.” Joe whispered, careful not to wake the other three sleeping boys.
Bill was the next oldest of his younger brothers. He was fifteen, just eleven months younger than Joe. Frank was next, he was twelve. Then came Ed, he was ten, and Bubba, the littlest one, was just seven years old. The two older boys shared a bed, as did the three youngest.
“What did you hear?” Billy asked.
“Good news!” Joe whispered excitedly. “It said that we whipped those Japanese good at Midway, an island way out in the Pacific Ocean. We’re really taking the fight at’em now.”
“Will you have to go fight them? Will, will we…”
Both the boys lay there staring at the ceiling. Joe placed his hand on his little brothers; Billy’s smaller, softer hand gripped his big brother’s tightly.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he assured his little brother. “They say this will be the last war, and now that we’re taking it to them it’ll be all over, way before you're of age to fight. Now go to sleep brother.”
Joe laid there listening to the crickets keep in time with the chorus of breaths from his sleeping brothers. All through the night he lay awake and still, while he fought a mythical war with himself. He’d heard Pop come in late as usual, probably after midnight. He’d heard his Mama scurrying around in the kitchen, and hushed voices. Then he’d heard them go to bed. Just a couple hours later they stirred again. Joe left his sleeping brothers in bed, grabbed his boots and joined his father when he heard his mother in the kitchen again. Joe could see the tired hiding behind his Pop’s eyes when he greeted him in the kitchen. They both stuffed a piece of cake, wrapped in a handkerchief, in their pocket. They would share his dad’s thermos of coffee a little later with the cake. Gosh, Pop makes less than a hundred dollars a month, he thought to himself as they walked out the door.
Thanks for reading! This is the second of four sections, and I intend to publish them twice a week. Look for Section Three on Wednesday. I’d love to hear what you think in the comments.
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I read all of them. We've you get your book done, let me know. I'll buy it. Great story.
I found it. Thanks