CHAPTER SIX
Tom walked across the street to Ed’s Bakery. As he opened the door, he was hit in the face with the usual bakery smells combined with the distinct aroma of……..strong coffee. Frank and Bobby were sitting at "the round table." It was a table in the very center of the place that could seat twelve guys comfortably as long as they only wanted coffee. Of course, it was perfectly round and had been the only place in town where local news and gossip was discussed. Men had been gathering here to tell age old stories or just gaggle. It had been that way ever since Tom could remember. They called out a welcome to him and he waived back. He stepped up to the counter and was about to order when the owner beat him to the punch.
“Two Fred specials, huh?” he asked.
“Is he that much of a creature of habit?”
“Pretty much. Go ahead and have a seat and I’ll bring them out to you. Fred likes to sit over there by the window so he can see what’s going on. Oh, by the way, my name is Ed. I’m the owner of this prestigious establishment.” Ed smiled real big and offered his hand of friendship.
Tom shook his hand, “Ed, it is my pleasure to meet you. My name is Tom. And, if that coffee tastes as good as it smells, I might just have to be a regular customer as long as I am in town.”
“You had best save your judgment on the coffee until you’ve taken a sip. Fred actually brings me his own imported brand of coffee here to fix just for him. He wants it one cup at a time so it’s always fresh. Sounds like a spoiled rotten kid, doesn’t he?”
Tom answered with a chuckle, “Well, to be honest, I guess we’re all a little peculiar in some sort of way. If everybody was the same, this poor old world would be a sad place.”
“You’ve got a good point there,” Ed responded as Tom turned to walk over to the big picture window that that faced the park.
As was the Elmhurst custom, Frank stood up from his chair, pointed at Tom and announced to the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like for you to meet a distinguished visitor to Elmhurst. Tom served our country in WWII and has some battle scars to prove it. S-o-o-o-o…..I proudly lift my cup of coffee, although it’s not a Fred special, in salute to my brother in arms.” He softened his voice a bit as he continued, “Tom, thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you did for our country. You‘re our hero.”
The afternoon crowd showered Tom with a hearty applause. Several men in the crowd stood up and saluted. As he walked toward the table that Ed declared as Fred’s favorite, many leaned over to shake his hand and welcome him to Elmhurst.
Tom smiled the best he could. Before he sat down, he looked at Frank who was still standing and insisted, “Folks, thank you. And, thank you, Frank. Yes, I served my country but I don’t deserve the title, ‘hero‘. Frank will probably testify to the fact that the real heroes never made it back home.”
Frank validated his statement as he took his seat, “You are so right, Tom.” Frank’s face took on a bitter-sweet smile as he, too, began to think about those who never returned. “Sounds like we both have stories we could tell.”
“But, we never want to get started.”
Frank looked into his coffee cup and shook his head. With a deep sigh, he added, “We’ve already said too much, haven’t we?”
“Yep,” was all that Tom could manage right then. The crowd had gotten quiet as the two men spoke. As they took their respective seats, people began to talk and laugh to somewhat relieve the tension. Those that sat next to Frank patted him on the back and steered their conversations onto other subjects.
Frank noticed the faraway look in Tom’s eyes as he stared out the window towards the park. He had wanted to honor his new comrade. What he hoped he hadn’t done was push him too close to a terrible edge. He had seen it in too many of his Vietnam buddies too many times. Although he entered into the conversation at the table, his eyes were vigilant for any more signs from Tom.
Ed brought over two cups of coffee and sat them on the table. “Now, when you get almost to the bottom of the cup, give me a heads up and I’ll put on some more. Do you need cream and sugar?”
“No, black will be fine,” Tom almost mumbled as he looked out the window to where Fred was standing. He was still talking on the phone. Every now and then, he would look over toward the bakery for a moment or two. Most of his time he spent nodding his head ‘yes’ and looking down at the ground.
Tom's mind went back to the day in 1942 when he entered the Elmhurst Cafe. The round table was filled, as usual, with the morning shift of farmers that started off their day discussing whatever the topic was for the moment. His dad was in his usual seat. Like Frank, he stood up and gave an Elmhurst coffee salute to him as he announced proudly that his son was leaving to join the Army. Everyone at the table had stood up and applauded like they did today. They shifted their chairs around so he could take his place by his father. That morning was filled with memories of men who had been in the first war. Tom remembered almost every story.
Then, his mind focused on another toast. This time it was in the tent of Lt. Col. Henry Mucci. He, Gary and Clifford had volunteered to go with a couple of Filipino guerillas and blow up an ammo shed on the back side of the prisoner of war camp as a diversion to the main attack. Col. Mucci had given them instructions on just how he wanted it done. After his instructions, he went to his duffel bag and pulled out four shot glasses, a half empty bottle and said, "This isn't the best stuff I've ever had, but it's the best I could snatch from my 'supplier.' Its vodka and I don't really like vodka. That's why I'm commanding you guys to drink some so I can empty this bottle and get me another one. I'm mean but I'm not stupid."
Tom smiled as he remembered the laughter. As the tent got quieter, Col. Mucci lifted his glass in a toast to them and said, "Here's to some mighty brave men. It's my command that you guys come back alive and help me finish this stupid bottle, ya' hear?" Again, the laughter came as they downed their vodka and left his tent to go on their mission.
Tom knew better than to start. Usually he was stronger, but, today had been quite demanding on him. He had lost sleep on his flight in. The trip to the cemetery was an absolute roller-coaster. For an hour and a half he had made two trips around the entire facility. There were no headstones with the name Dandridge on them besides his parents, grandparents and those gone before them.
His emotions had run a gauntlet from joy and amusement to confusion and fear. Fear began to play. Fear’s greatest playmate, the past, came over to taunt. And it’s taunting drew him toward an abyss.
‘I’m no hero. I’m a coward. Heroes can face anything. I couldn’t face my own family. MY OWN FAMILY. They were so much on my mind as we skirted the rocks and came up on the mountain side of that ammo shed. I never wanted those sweet thoughts of my Ellen and my ever laughing Billy to stop. But, they had to. I had to blow up that shed if I was ever going to get a chance to go home.’
Frank saw it coming but said nothing about it to those at the table with him. Nonchalantly, he sat up a little straighter and pulled himself to the edge of his chair. ‘There he goes,‘ he thought as he saw Tom claw through thin air. His head was shaking ever so slightly. He stood up slowly and held his hand up to get the guys to quiet down a bit. “Tom? Tom? Are you OK?” he asked in easy quiet tones. There was no answer. There was only a blank stare and animated gestures as the horror played out in his mind one more time. Frank knew that he was now totally immersed in a flashback.
The people at the table next to Tom got up and started to walk over to him to see if they could help. “No,” Frank said firmly but in a low tone. “Don’t touch him or talk to him. He might be going through a flashback.” Frank walked quietly over to him, knelt, and watched his face for a moment. “Tom? Tom? It’s OK,” he said quietly.
Tom was sitting right in front of him but his mind was on a continent far away and in a moment of time 60 years in the past. Frank could only listen as Tom continued to mumble incoherent words that gave those around him no real clue as to what was happening inside.
“The thoughts aren’t long enough. I want to stay. I want to hold them in my mind some more. My mind? I want to hold them in my arms. Oh, Jesus………Jesus. If you’ll only get me out of this place alive……….gotta be with my Ellen and Billy again. But, I gotta get out of here. Sweet Jesus……..I’ll be in church every time those doors open. Yes, Ellen on one side, Billy on the other. Just like Momma always wanted me to. I can see the shed. But, it’s darker the closer we get to the shed. There’s the hole the rebels had dug and hid for us. Quick. I’ve got to get into it before the guard…….made it. The guard turned to pace the other way. Where’s the second guard? On the other side?”
One of the guys slipped out the door of the cafe and walked briskly in Fred's direction. When Fred looked up at him he said, “Fred, come here. Quick.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We think your friend is having a flashback.”
“OH, GOD. NO!”
When Fred got into the bakery, he hurried up to Frank who was kneeling beside Tom and watching his face. Frank looked at Fred and said in hushed tones, “All we can do is stand by him until he comes out of it.” He looked at several of them as he said, “Guys, hang on. This might not be pretty.”
“C’mon, Gary. Bring the explosives quickly. Scoot back. Scoot back. Can’t see the other one, Gary, but I know he’s there somewhere. Okay .Okay, now. You and Clifford scram back to the radio man. Tell Sgt. Scriven that they should hear the explosion in about six or seven minutes. I’ll go in, set this for 5 minutes and I’m right behind you. No absolutely not. Get a head start… When I set it…… I can run scared. I’m scared and I want to run. Gary, don’t argue with me. The rebels said they would not be far away. I’ll be OK…. Gotta be OK. My Ellen and Billy…. Ellen, oh, Ellen. No. I’m not going in this window until I see y'all's backsides scampering. Now git.”
“Tom, can you hear me? It’s me, Fred. You remember me? Tom? It’s Okay. It’s Okay.”
Frank took charge and stated, “Just let him go. Fred you get on that side of him, I’ll stay on this one. No, Steve, come here. You get on that side. Sorry, Fred, Steve’s bigger and stronger than you. If Tom starts fighting, it might take more than two good men to hold him.”
“You’re right, Frank. I’d say by the way that his hands are shaking that there’s plenty of adrenaline shooting through him right now.”
“Dear God, where’s the other….don’t know….I DONT KNOW.. I can’t see him. Safe at the corner. Rebels built a step. Feel for it. Ah, two croaker sacks….c’mon. Here? Yes.
“What was that? A noise? Who? Must be the other…..a rat. Don’t scare the rat. Three feet up from the sacks. Ah, ye-e-s-s. The window is open. Step in quietly. Can’t see. There. I’m in. Four steps forward should be …… What’d I step on… it’s a guard. Where’s my pistol? Take the safety off. The door. Oh, my God, the light. There’s only two. I can…… Looks like they’re gonna rush me. I can still… There’s another one at the door. He’s got a machine gun. Oh, no. Don’t tell me he’s gonna shoot. Here they come. Gotta fire……..gotta fire………machine gun."
Tom screamed and fell onto the table and knocked the coffee over. Frank and Steve grabbed him. “It’s Okay, Tom. It’s Okay. We’re here. You’re alright,” a misty-eyed comrade said as he tried to bring him back.
Tom was breathing harder and harder. Sweat was running out of every pore of his body. He stared at his helpers but he recognized none of them. The voices were familiar but his flashback wasn’t completely gone. He tried to pull away from them but couldn‘t. Panic was all over his face as his eyes darted back and forth. Vainly he shouted out, “No…..no. Leave me alone……leave me alone. I’m an American….I……I.”
You wouldn’t think that this would be the right time for an eleven-year-old little boy to come running onto the scene. But, it worked well. When Arthur came through the door of the bakery, he saw the crowd around Tom and saw two big guys having to hold on to him. His big smile quickly vanished from his face as he heard Tom screaming in terror. He blurted out, “Mr. Tom. Mr. Tom. What’s wrong? What's wrong?”
The sound of a young child didn’t fit into a Japanese fire fight. It was just the thing at that moment to snap Tom out of it. The voice of the one who brought him so much joy ushered him back into the real world. He stopped screaming and looked around. The ‘awful’ began to melt away into the ’right now.’ The adrenaline stopped as quickly as it came and left him destitute of strength. As he collapsed back into his chair, he pulled away from Frank and Steve and gathered up Arthur into his arms and pulled him onto his lap. Just like all the other flashbacks, the emotional drain brought him to tears.
The tender heart of his new friend was overwhelmed. Arthur clung to Tom and cried with him for a moment. Tom spoke softly to him, “Yes, Arthur. I’m alright, now, son. I’m alright. It’s just something that happens sometimes to those who have been in terrible things. But, I’m Okay. I promise. I‘m Okay.”
Big Ed and his son Eddie, from Arthur’s football team, motioned them to move over to the next table. Big Ed had a couple of fresh cups of coffee and Eddie had some big wet towels to clean up with. Tom started to apologize, but Big Ed, “Nothing doing. This ain’t the first time someone spilled coffee and as long as I’m open it won’t be the last. Besides, after you taste that coffee you might be running to me to make me apologize for the way I made it. Just don't forget that the old codger you're hangin' with is the one who gave me the recipe.”
Big Ed laughed real big at his own joke and several of the onlookers joined him. It took the edge off of the situation. Most of them stood there watching Tom and Arthur console each other just to make sure that everything was alright.
Frank and Steve motioned everybody back to their tables to give them some space. As they did, they mouthed the words, “He’s gonna be fine.”
As he pulled Arthur back so that he could see him smile, Tom assured him, “See? I’m smiling. I’m really Okay.” Then his gaze fell on the table where Ed and Eddie were cleaning up two spilled cups of coffee. He pointed to them and said, “See there? Now you can tell your sweet momma that even big folks spill stuff.”
Arthur giggled as he wiped away his tears. “Huh-uh. You can tell her yourself. She sent me over here to invite you and Mr. Fred for dinner. She’s fixing spaghetti.”
"She what? I can’t...." Tom began as he started to decline the invitation.
Frank Runyon called out, “Has she got enough for one more?”
“How about twenty more,” came a voice from across the room. “I don’t know of anyone that would turn down Olivia’s spaghetti.”
Bobby chimed in, "As many socials that I have been to at Elmhurst Christian Church, I don't remember anyone passing by that big pot of spaghetti and not getting a couple of big helpings."
Tom still had it in his mind not to go when Arthur looked at him and said in a soft voice, "Please, Mr. Tom. I want to spend some more time with you."
It wasn't what he said but the way he said it. After a few seconds of looking at his new friend eyeball to eyeball, Tom chuckled and replied, "I don't see how anyone could turn down a request like that."
Arthur just giggled and clapped his hands together a couple of quick times as he slid off of his lap and took a seat beside him at the table. There was a grin on Arthur's face that probably peaked in the back of his head.
Tom reached over and tousled his hair and told him, "Son, when you get bigger you are going to have to beat the girls off with a stick, you slick little charmer you." As he reached for his coffee he thought to himself, 'Son? I called him Son. Out of all the kids I've helped out of trouble, I've never called any of them Son right off the bat. Tom, you've finally done it. It took you 82 years but you have finally gotten old.'
Tom took a sip if his coffee to see if it was too hot to drink. Finding that it was tolerable, he took a few good gulps. Fred pushed the creamer and the sugar dish over to him. "Tom? Don't you want something to dilute that down wit
h?"
"Nope, not right now," he said as he let out a deep sigh and stared at the remainder in his cup. "Maybe on the next one. But this one I need to go down straight." Tom took another big gulp and put his cup back down on the table. He tried to put it down softly but his hand was shaking so much that it jangled a couple of times. As the cup sounded a clunkety-clunk, Tom gave a quick look towards his old friend and sheepishly grinned an apology.
Fred couldn't help but notice the "super tired" look on his face. Even the boyish grin couldn't help hide it. He had seen only two other flashback struggles in his lifetime. In both of them, the Army physician prescribed several days of bed rest and a change of scenery. Fred began flirting with the idea of cancelling the dinner tonight to give Tom a rest. However he just couldn't come up with a way real quick. Not knowing Tom's plans for being in Elmhurst, he had no idea whether an opportunity like this would ever come up again. He had to speak to Olivia and let her know what happened.
"Well sir, if y’all will excuse me," he said as he stood up, "I need to order another round of coffee. A-a-n-n-d, if two old codgers like us are going to invade the Hollis residence, I need to see if Olivia needs me to pick anything up before we get there."
Tom leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and said to Arthur, "I thought he would never leave. Now we can talk about him like he was a dog."
Arthur imitated Tom's move and cracked, "You better believe we can." He made a hand motion toward Fred like he was trying to shoo away some chickens and continued, "Yeah, go ahead and leave us alone." He leaned over in Fred's direction and held his hand up to his mouth as if he was about to say something he didn't want Tom to hear, "Besides, Sgt. Tom doesn't know that I'm the biggest tattletale in the county."
The two of them looked at each other and laughed. Fred saw the refreshing change that this little exchange had already made in Tom's countenance. He thought to himself, 'When Tom finds out that he's been talking to his great-grandson all this time, he's going to come so unglued that it'll take him a long time to get himself back together. H-m-m-m. I know that doesn't sound right but I believe that that's just exactly what's going to happen."
He loudly cleared his throat as his way of joining in the joke, "I can certainly tell when I'm not wanted. But, you two haven't heard the last from me." He turned to go outside so he could have a private conversation with Olivia and almost ran into Eddie who was coming back to the table. "Oops, I'm sorry Eddie. I didn't see you."
Eddie replied, "That's Okay, Mr. Fred. I heard the conversation as I was coming over and I was watching for you to turn. I was just coming over to redeem my promise to Arthur."
He slid a little plate in front of Arthur with not one but two butterscotch filled doughnuts on it. "My dad said that I should bring you two doughnuts. He said that anybody who could teach his know-it-all son a few things deserves two doughnuts." He chuckled as he looked at Arthur and then Tom before he finished, "And you know something? He's probably right." He shrugged his shoulders at Arthur, "But that's a dad for ya', isn't it? Y’all enjoy. See ya' tomorrow, Arthur." He turned and walked back to the kitchen.
"You bet," Arthur answered, "and thanks for the doughnuts, Eddie."
Eddie looked back at Arthur and waived his hand.
"I'll be right back," Fred said as he started towards the door. "You two behave if you think you can."
As he walked by the adjoining table, Fred leaned over and said to the two men, "Morris, you and Walter keep a close eye out on those two while I step outside, will ya'? Those two are two bad hombres."
When Tom heard that, he hunched his shoulders up, put a big, mean frown on his face and said to Arthur, "Yep. That's us alright. Two bad hombres."
Arthur mimicked his actions and said through his frown, "Yep. We're the baddest of the bad."
Neither one of them could hold their frowns very long. Their little comedy routine brought them to laughter and high fives. Those that had been watching their little charade laughed along with them.
Fred noticed the years coming back into Tom's countenance. He prayed inside himself as he stepped toward the door, "Yep, God, you've brought Tom back for some long-awaited healing. Help us to bring him back home where he belongs. Help us bring him back to the Tom he really is. Give us the wisdom to say and do what we need to. I don't know what you've had him doing all these years, but his family needs him now.'
As he stepped outside, he could still see the two of them through the big picture window and he continued, 'And, God, Tom needs his family, too.'