“Which one are you descended from?”
“Neither. They had a third brother who was too young to enlist, so he stayed home and worked the farm. Pretty much my whole family has served, or at least the men. Buckmans have been serving the country since the War of 1812,” I explained.
“You’re kidding!” commented a horrified Big Bob.
“All of you?” asked an intrigued Luke. He was a young teenager and the idea was fascinating, at least in a sense.
I nodded and chewed my pizza. Once I swallowed I gave the family history. “Marilyn saw some of this when she visited the house. We actually have lists and photos of servicemen. My great-great-whatever came over from England in the 1750s and bought property and became a farmer in Maryland.”
“The 1750s? What side was he on in the Revolutionary War?” interrupted Matthew.
“Neither. He was a farmer and wanted to stay out of it. Anyway, he had a bunch of kids and after the war they all thought of themselves as Americans. One of the younger ones joined the Maryland Militia, and was in the War of 1812, and ever since then somebody has been in the service.”
“Such as?” he asked.
“Well, his youngest son was in the Mexican War. He got his foot shot off, and went home and back to the farm. He had three sons, two of whom died in the Civil War, and the third had some more sons. For the next couple of generations, the boys joined the Navy. My great-grandfather was at the Battle of Manila Bay. So, after him, my grandfather went into the Army and served in France in World War I. My father was in the Navy during the Second World War. Now it’s my turn,” I finished.
Harriet and Big Bob just stared at each other. I was sure that Marilyn was going to get an earful after I left.
“We’re in ROTC, too!” piped up Luke, pointing at himself and John.
I looked at the two boys. “Really? Aren’t you a little young for that?”
“We’re in Navy ROTC,” he said.
I gave him a curious look, and John added, “Junior ROTC. Navy Junior ROTC.”
I remembered that Notre Dame actually had an NJ-ROTC program, although I never could figure out why. I think the kids enrolled to get out of gym. They also got to wear uniforms, and the ROTC Ball was the big prom type dance at the end of the year. “Junior ROTC? What’s that like?”
I let them yammer away about it. Neither Matthew nor Mark had joined it, but Luke, John, and Gabriel all joined. This was the closest to any form of service anybody in the family ever attempted. Finally I asked, “What happens if you quit?”
“You have to take gym. Why?” asked Luke.
I grinned back at him. “If I quit, they hand me a rifle and ship me overseas as a private. It’s a little different.”
After dinner everybody sort of moved out to the living room, where the kids turned on the television. The older boys all left, and Marilyn’s parents plopped themselves down in armchairs. I ended up on the sofa, with Marilyn curled up next to me. I whispered in her ear, “I don’t think your folks think much of me becoming a soldier.”
“It’s pretty unusual in our family. Nobody’s ever enlisted, at least as far as I’ve ever heard.”
“Bunch of draft dodgers!” I whispered, at which she gave me an elbow in the side. I laughed and whispered, “Don’t tell them I ran away from home when I was sixteen, or that I’m a pagan. That would drive them totally crazy.”
She grinned up at me. “You’re not a pagan. You’re a heathen. There’s a difference.”
“Trust me. As soon as they learn, I’ll be the main attraction at the next bonfire!” That got me some more giggles and we chatted quietly about the differences between our families. Despite the enormous differences, the Lefleurs were good people, and over the course of my lifetime, I ended up spending much more time with them than with my own family.
After a bit, I asked her, “What’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”
“Well, we have church at four, but other than that, nothing. What did you have in mind?”
“How about I take you out to dinner and then we go out for a while? Know any decent bars or clubs?”
“Not really.”
“Know any indecent bars or clubs?” I asked innocently.
“Only you would ask that!” She thought for a second, and said, “I’ll call some of my girlfriends and see what they say.”
“Okay. Tomorrow you can show me all the wonders of the greater Utica metropolitan area.”
“That will be a very quick trip,” Marilyn replied.
“Where am I sleeping tonight?” I asked. “I assume it won’t be up in your room.”
Marilyn glanced nervously across the room at her parents. Her mother was sleeping upright in her armchair, and her father was totally oblivious to us. “Keep your voice down. That isn’t even funny!”
“Sorry. Anyway, they can’t hear us. Down here somewhere?”
She pointed towards an archway to the side. “Over there, in the library.”
“And tonight? Any chance of us going out for a while?” I waggled my eyebrows lewdly.
Much to my surprise, Marilyn waggled hers right back at me. “Later, when the little ones go to bed, and my parents go upstairs, I’ll tuck you in. Think that will do?”
Suddenly my mouth felt very dry and my pants felt very tight. I nodded and cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah, good idea,” I croaked out.
“I’ve missed you, too.” she continued on with a grin.
I glanced over at her parents, still sleeping and watching television. Then I looked down at her. “Oh, yeah, I’ve missed you way too much!”
Marilyn giggled and gave me a quick kiss, and then snuggled back against me. In short order she was napping too.
About nine or so, Harriet woke with a snort, which wasn’t much quieter than her snores. (Tonight had been relatively minor, but when she gets going, bears run away!) She glanced around and then stood up. She nudged Big Bob from where he was dozing and then bent down and picked up a sleeping Ruth. Big Bob stood up as well and ordered Rafe and Gabe upstairs. All this activity woke up Marilyn, so she stood up and picked up Peter in his bassinet and carried it and him up the stairs. Suddenly I was alone. It was time for me to get ready for bed. I went out to the Galaxie and pulled my bag from the backseat, and then popped the trunk and grabbed my sleeping bag. I couldn’t remember the details of the library, but I wanted to be prepared.
Back inside, I turned off the television and moved through the arched doorway into the library. Much of it I remembered. There were the shelves of books, but all from the World’s Greatest Literature series of books, in the fake leather covers and the fine, thin paper, all unread. Big Bob had bought his library by the yard, and never read any of it. There was a fish tank, empty and unused in the corner. It had a worn leather sofa and a matching armchair, neither of which was all that comfortable, as I recalled. Heavy shag carpet in a burnt orange color, very ugly, but clean and soft. The room had a few windows, but they were completely covered by heavy drapes, and even in the day the room was dark.
I had to smile when I saw the picture on the wall. It was the most perfect reminder of the tastes of Big Bob and Harriet. They had bought, on their last vacation trip to somewhere really tacky, matching leisure suits for Big Bob, all four of the gospels, and all three of the angels. The picture was of the eight of them, standing together side by side, from tallest to shortest, wearing these ungodly awful blue-green polyester double knit leisure suits that looked like rejects from a bad Saturday Night Live sketch about the Seventies. They were so horrendous as to be fascinating, at least in the same sense that everybody watches NASCAR for the crashes. In another thirty-some years there would actually be websites devoted to really hideous and embarrassing pictures, and this photo would deserve to be on the main page!