"I do realize it".
He glanced swiftly at Marc, and after scrutinizing him for a moment he said, "Yes, I guess you do, but I’m going to finish my speech anyhow". He paused and then went on, "People have been trying to type us ever since we were born, Marc. I know it hasn’t been easy, it’s been tough as the devil a lot of the time, but we’ve stuck it out this far, and neither of us can afford to give up now". He paused again and said finally, "You can’t quit".
They both got up and started down the road toward the town. The sun was setting over the bush and the Algoma Hills were slowly changing from burnished gold to deep purple, but Marc did not look back. He did not look back until they had passed the last farm-house and were nearing the row of run-down cottages on the outskirts, and he heard the first whippoorwill calling from the bush. He turned and his eyes swept over the line of hills as they caught the last rays of light from the west, and then he began to walk faster, looking straight ahead of him again.
The Reisers were at dinner, his father at one end of the table and his mother at the other, and David sitting across from him, when the telephone rang in the hall, and Marc, who was nearest the door, got up to answer it.
It was the girl who worked in the telegraph office down on Main Street and because she had known Marc all her life, instead of going through the usual formalities, she said, "Marc, is that you?"
"Yes. Oh, hello…" he began, and then realized that he had forgotten her name. "Hello", he said again, more firmly.
"Where have you been all afternoon, for goodness’ sake?"
"Well, I…"
"There’s a wire for you from Ottawa. You’ve got an extra week’s leave".
"What!" gasped Marc. "What did you say?"
"Here, I’ll read it to you. ’Captain M. L. Reiser, 32 Elm St., Manchester…’"
"All right, you can skip that part of it. Read me the rest".
She read him the rest and asked him if he would like a copy delivered. "We’re pretty short-handed now, but Tommy comes in after school, and he should be back from dinner in a minute".
"All right", said Marc dazedly. "Send Tommy along with it".
He put down the phone and stared at the paneled wall above the telephone where he had once carved his initials, M.L.R., Marc Leopold Reiser.
"What is it?" asked David from the doorway.
"I’ve got an extra week’s leave". He said suddenly, "I’m going to phone Eric and ask her to marry me".
He could hear his mother and father talking in the dining-room and looking up at his brother he said, "Go and explain to them, Dave, please".
"O.K.", said David.
"Tell them…"
"O.K.", said David again. "I’ll do my best".
He disappeared, and into the phone Marc said to the long distance operator, "Montreal, please…".
There was a wait while she was getting the number and he went on looking at the initials M.L.R. until finally a woman’s voice said, "Hello".
"Manchester calling, just a moment please".
"Hello", said Marc. "Hello, may I speak to Miss Drake, please-Miss Erica Drake".
"Yes, I’ll get her. Can you hold on a minute?"
"Is that you, Mrs. Drake?"
"Yes…".
"This is Marc Reiser speaking".
"Oh", she said. "I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice".
"Is Eric all right?"
"No, not exactly. She-she’s badly overtired…". The voice dropped into silence and then he heard her say, "I’m glad you telephoned, Mr. Reiser. I hope-I hope there’s nothing wrong?"
"No, I’ve just been given some extra leave…".
"I’m so glad! Just a minute, I’ll get Erica".
He heard Miriam’s voice somewhere near the phone asking, "Mother, is that Marc?"
"Yes, thank goodness".
"Marc!" said Miriam into the phone.
"Hello, Mimi". He was beginning to be thoroughly frightened and he asked, "What’s the matter with Eric?"
"She seems to have cracked up. She came home on Saturday night, after your brother left, and just sort of went to pieces. Mother’s kept her in bed ever since. You are coming tomorrow, aren’t you?" she asked anxiously.
"No, I think I’ll probably leave tonight. Mimi", he said quickly, "is there any news of Tony?"
"No", said Miriam.
"But there’s still a chance, isn’t there?"
"I don’t think so", she answered after a pause.
"Where was it?"
"The Mediterranean. He’d been transferred to Malta". She said, "I’m glad about your leave, Marc".
"Thanks, Mimi".
"Here’s Eric…".
And then he heard Erica’s voice saying, "Marc-Marc, is that you?"
"Hello, darling. Eric", he whispered, swallowing. "Eric, darling…"
"Is it true about your leave?"
"I’ve got another week".
"Marc!"
He said in agony, "Don’t cry, darling-you mustn’t cry any more".
"It’s getting to be a habit, isn’t it? I’m sorry". There was a brief silence and then she said, "There, that’s better. When are you coming?"
"I’m going to try to make the train tonight. It’s the Vancouver train and it’s due in at Windsor Station at 11:15 tomorrow morning. Do you think you can meet me?"
"Yes, of course…".
"Are you sure you’re well enough?" he asked anxiously.
"There’s nothing the matter with me, really, I just…" She stopped and then said, "I’m just a fake".
"Eric…"
"Yes?"
"Eric", he said. He suddenly got to his feet, kicking away the telephone stool, and gripping the phone with one hand and the frame of the door leading into the back hall with the other, he said, "Eric, will you marry me?"
Her voice was suddenly very faint as she asked, "Do you mean now or afterwards?"
"I mean now-tomorrow, or the next day, as soon as we can get a license". He drew in his breath and said with a great effort, "Of course, if you like you can-well, you can think about it and tell me when I…"
"I don’t have to think about it, except that I guess-I guess I can’t quite believe it!"
"Neither can I", he said rather unsteadily.
After a pause he heard her asking, "Marc, are you…"
"Am I what?"
"Are you sure, darling?"
"Yes", said Marc. "I’m quite sure now".
There was a long silence and finally he said still more unsteadily, "I’m going to hang up now because I…"
"It must be catching. Good-by, darling".
"Good-by, Eric".
"And give my love to David!"
He put down the phone and after a while he turned and found his mother and father standing in the door leading to the dining-room. Whatever it was they had intended to say to him, when they saw his face, they did not say it.
He looked from one to the other and finally the words came out, wrung from his heart, "Please… give us a break!"
His father was the first to answer. He said, "Don’t worry, Marc. We’ll give you a break".
Later, as he was standing on the steps of the train looking down at the three of them, his mother and father and brother, his father said, "Tell Erica to come and see us sometime, Marc".