Read Of Windmills and War for Free Online Page B

Maybe someday God
will help us make sense of this.
    Danny

5
     
     
    Over the next couple of weeks, Danny lived in a fog. He went
to school, continued to work for Mr. Chaney at the grocery store, and shoveled
snow when it fell. But he merely went through the motions, his mind and his
heart thousands of miles away. His mother seemed to understand. She told him
she’d lost a young sister when she was just a girl. She encouraged him to talk
about Hans and not hold in his grief, or let her know if she could help. But it
was too hard. Too soon. He knew it was crazy, but it seemed like talking about
it only made it more painful. In some strange way, it validated the truth that
Hans was dead.
    At first his father seemed sympathetic, but only for a day or
two. Then came the grumbled comments across the dinner table.
    “Nothing you can do about it, so stop all this moping
around.”
    “You never met the kid. Get over it.”
    “Enough of this. Grow up and take it like a man.”
    Whenever one of these missiles came his way, Danny just let
it roll over him, ignoring the intended barb. For some reason, he felt
completely numb, unwilling to muster any kind of response. Always, his mother
would later commend him for not taking his father’s bait, but truth be told, he
just didn’t care anymore.
    Joey called near the end of February before crossing the
country to his new home aboard the USS Oklahoma . He seemed anxious to
go, but regretted not getting to see his family before he deployed. Danny
thought he sounded a little homesick, but couldn’t be sure. He wondered if Joey
would have come home if Dad hadn’t kept his grudge all these months. The
thought depressed him. He’d give anything to get to spend some time with his
brother. Who knew how long it might be before he’d be stateside again?
    Gradually, as winter gave way to spring, he began to feel
the fog lifting and made an extra effort to pour himself into his school work.
He took as many hours at the grocery store as he could. When April finally
rolled around, he started looking forward to the Cubs’ new season and another
chance at the pennant. Still, never a day passed that he didn’t think of Hans.
He always looked for a letter on his pillow when he came home from school, then
glanced at the picture on his mirror and tried to be thankful for the
friendship they’d shared instead of living with the grief.
    Then one sunny afternoon in late April, Danny hurried home
from school and took the porch steps two at a time. In less than two minutes,
he scratched Sophie behind the ears, threw an old knotted sock down the hall
for her to chase, said hi to his mom who was peeling carrots at the kitchen
sink, and sliced himself a piece of pound cake for a snack.
    “Good heavens, what’s the hurry, Danny?”
    “Opening day! Cubs and Cardinals in St.
Louis .
Don’t wanna miss it!”
    As he flew down the hall and up the stairs, he heard his mom
yell, “Danny, don’t forget to feed Sophie, and by the way, there’s a—”
    He missed whatever else his mother said when he flipped on
the radio on his bedside table and tuned it to WLS. Just as he was ready to
plop down on his bed, he saw it—an envelope resting on his pillow. His heart
nearly stopped until he realized the handwriting was that of Anya, not Hans.
    He turned the volume down on his radio, picked up the
letter, and studied the postmark as he reached for his letter opener. He
noticed she’d sent the letter on April 1—three weeks ago.
     
    Dear Danny,
    I thank you for the letter you wrote after hearing our sad
news. It was kind of you and we were grateful for your prayers. It’s been hard,
but we’re trying to put our lives back together as best we can. Mother has had
a very difficult time. She stays in bed most days, and I’m very much afraid she
may never be the same. I try to cheer her up, but it doesn’t seem to help.
    I hope you don’t mind, but one day I read all of your
letters to Hans. I often spend time