“But it'll never be the same again,” Jean whispered to herself, as she watched the doors close, the gangway pull back, and the giant bird head down the runway at last, and finally take off. And then at long, long last, it was only a speck in the sky, and feeling very small and very alone, she went outside, hailed a cab, and went back to the office where Arthur Durning needed her. At least someone still did, but she dreaded going home that night. And for the next years.
Tana had taken a plane which landed at Oakland airport, and it seemed a small and friendly place when she arrived. Smaller than both Boston and New York, and much, much larger than Yolan, which didn't have an airport at all. She took a cab to the Berkeley campus with her conglomeration of things, checked into the room that had been rented for her as part of her scholarship, unpacked her bags, and looked around. Everything felt different and strange and new. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day, and people looked relaxed in everything from blue jeans to cords to flowing robes. There was more than one caftan in sight, lots of shorts and T-shirts, sandals, sneakers, loafers, bare feet. Unlike Boston University, the Jewish princesses from New York were not in evidence here, wearing expensive wools and cashmeres from Bergdorf's. This was strictly “come as you are,” and it was anything but neat. But there was an excitement about it, too, and she felt exhilarated as she looked around. It was an exhilaration which stayed with her once classes began, and into the next month, as she ran from one class to the other every day, and then dashed home to study all afternoon and all night. The only other place she ever saw was the library, and whenever possible she ate in her room or on the run. She had lost six pounds which she didn't need to lose by the end of the first month. And the only good thing about the schedule she kept was that she didn't miss Harry quite as much as she had feared she would. For three years, they had been almost joined at the hip, even though they attended different schools, and now suddenly he wasn't there, although he would call her at off-hours. And on October fifth, she was in her room, when someone knocked on her door and told her that there was a call on the pay phone for her. She figured it was her mother again, and she really didn't want to go downstairs. She had a quiz the next day on contract law, and she had a paper due in another course.
“Find out who it is. Can I call back?”
“Okay, just a sec.” And then she came back again. “It's from New York.”
Her mother again. “I'll call back.”
“He says you can't.” He? Harry? Tana smiled. For him, she would even interrupt her work.
“I'll be right out.” She grabbed a pair of rumpled jeans off the back of a chair, and pulled them on as she ran to the phone. “Hello?”
“What the hell are you doing? Making it with some guy on the fourteenth floor? I've been sitting here for an hour, Tan.” He sounded annoyed and he also sounded drunk, to her practiced ear. She knew him well.
“I'm sorry, I was in my room, studying, and I thought it was my Mom.”
“No such luck.” He sounded strangely serious.
“Are you in New York?” She was smiling, happy to hear from him again.
“Yeah.”
“I thought you weren't coming back till next month.”
“I wasn't. I came back to see my uncle. Apparently, he thinks he needs my help.”
“What uncle?” Tana looked confused. Harry had never mentioned an uncle before.
“My Uncle Sam. Remember him, the guy on the posters in the ridiculous red and blue suit with the long white beard?” He was definitely drunk and she started to laugh, but the laughter faded on her lips. He was serious. Oh, my God.…
“What the hell do you mean?”
“I got drafted, Tan.”
“Oh, shit.” She closed her eyes. That was all they heard about. Vietnam … Vietnam … Vietnam … everyone had something to say about it… kick the shit out of them … stay out of it… remember what happened to the French … go to it … stay home … police action … war … it was impossible to know what was going on, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. “Why the hell did you come back? Why didn't you stay over there?”
“I didn't want to do that. My father even offered to buy me out if he could, which I doubt. There are some things which even his Winslow money won't buy. But that's not my style, Tan. I don't know, maybe secretly I've wanted to go over there and make myself useful for a while.”
“You're nuts. My God.… You're worse than that. You could be killed. Don't you realize that? Harry, go back to France.” She was shouting at him now, standing in an open corridor, shouting at Harry in New York. “Why the hell don't you go to Canada, or shoot yourself in the foot … do something, resist the draft. This is 1964, not 1941. Don't be so noble, there's nothing to be noble about, asshole. Go back.” There were suddenly tears in her eyes and she was afraid to ask what she wanted to know. But she had to. She had to know. “Where are they sending you?”
“San Francisco.” Her heart soared. “First. For about five hours. Want to meet me at the airport, Tan? We could have lunch or something. I have to go to some place called Fort Ord by ten o'clock that night, and I arrive at three. And somebody told me it was about a two-hour drive from San Francisco.…” His voice trailed off, they were both thinking the same thing.
“And then what?” Her voice was suddenly hoarse.
“Vietnam, I guess. Cute, huh?”
She suddenly sounded pissed. “No, not cute, you dumb son of a bitch. You should have come to law school with me. Instead, you wanted to play and get yourself laid in every whorehouse in France, and now look at you, you're going to Vietnam to get your balls shot off.…” There were tears rolling down her face, and no one dared walk past her in the hall.
“You make it sound intriguing, anyway.”
“You're a jerk.”
“So what else is new? You fallen in love yet?”
“Who has time, all I do is read. What time does your plane come in?”
“Three o'clock tomorrow.”
“I'll be there.”
“Thanks.” He sounded so young again, on the last word, and when she saw him the next day, she thought he looked pale and tired. He didn't look as well as when she had seen him in June, and their brief visit was nervous and strained. She didn't know what to do with him. Five hours wasn't very long. She took him to her Berkeley room, and then they drove into town for lunch in Chinatown, wandered around, and Harry kept looking at his watch. He had a bus to catch. He had decided not to rent a car to get to Fort Ord after all, but that shortened the time he had with her. They didn't laugh as much as usual, and they were both upset all afternoon.
“Harry, why are you doing this? You could have bought your way out.”
“That's not my style, Tan. You must know that by now. And maybe, secretly, I think I'm doing the right thing. There's a patriotic part of me I didn't know I had.”
Tana felt her heart sink. “That's not patriotism for chrissake. It isn't our war.” It horrified her that he had an out he wouldn't use. It was a side of him she had never seen. Easygoing Harry had grown up, and she saw a man in him she had never known before. He was stubborn and strong, and although what he was doing frightened him, it was clearly what he wanted to do.
“I think it will be our war soon, Tan.”