Scene 9

Scene Nine...The Vet
Time: Late morning, Saturday, December 15, 1945
Place: Viridian Veterinary Clinic
Storyteller: Janet

My sister holds the vet clinic door open for Lucy and me. William is slouched in a chair, reading a magazine.

"Tom is okay isn't he? No more fights?" Betty asks.

He replies, "Couldn't be better. Time for booster shots. For a while there, I was afraid we'd have to change his name to Van Gogh."

Betty seems to understand that comment, but I don't. "What do you mean?"

"Vincent Van Gogh was a depressed artist who cut off his ear."

"That's sick. You better be kidding."

Doris appears out of nowhere and hands the cat to William. "Ear healing nicely; only a scar. It's Lucy's turn." She walks off with my precious dog.

"What's wrong with Lucy?" William asks.

"I found a lump." A tear falls over my cheek bone.

"Don't worry. Goldens get benign fatty lumps. How many jobs does Doris have?"

"Only two," says Betty. 

Turning to me with exaggerated beady eyes, he changes the subject. "Liar. You said your dad is a giant. I was afraid to meet him on Thanksgiving."

My sister laughs, "Daddy's 6'4". Janet's almost there."

"Shut up. I'm only 5'8". Rockettes can't be taller than 5'10 and a half inches."

"Girls stop growing at your age...unless they're giants," William teases.

Doris returns with Lucy. "It's a benign fatty lump. Goldens get them."

I stare at William. "Tell me the truth. Are you an animal vet or a real doctor?"

"Not a veterinarian. May I treat you three beautiful ladies to lunch?"

Doris answers, "Thanks, but my shift ends at 3:00. And Betty, the hospital called a minute ago. Doc went home with a cold or flu; they need you. Sorry."

"What about me? My stomach's growling." I look at William.

"Fine with me, if it's fine with your sister."

"Fine. Doris, please let the hospital know I have to take Lucy home on my way to work." 

"Rain check?" Betty says to William, who winks and opens the door for her and Lucy.

They dash towards the Ford.

He puts the cat against his Army issue shirt and zips the leather jacket. Tom's head is sticking out. "Come on kid." He means me.

All the way to Sal's, I cling to the motorcycle driver.

We're here. While removing his jacket and Tom, William asks, "What are those trees with red cluster...lining the driveway?"

"They're Christmas palms. The berries ripen just in time for the holidays. Let's eat on the deck, okay?"

A blue umbrella shades us; Florida sunshine in December. Sal is first to our table. "What to drink, Janet?"

"Shirley Temple; no umbrella, please."

"Water with lime." My pretend date is ready to order. "House salad with olive oil. Grilled snapper. Asparagus and carrots."

"Miss?"

"Fried shrimp. French fries. Hush puppies...may I have dessert?"

"If you can fit it in."

"Key lime pie."

After drinks arrive, William throws me for a loop. "Now that we're alone, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, Janet."

Holy cow. Is this Romeo trying to two-time Betty with her own sister? My heart skips a few beats.

Finally he gets to the point, "Where is Doris's brother?"

I'm relieved, but stunned. I can't talk. William shakes my arm to see if I'm okay. I'm not. Then the words escape. "He's at Normandy. Paul found Jonah's grave there."

"Oh, no. Does she have other siblings?"

"No. And no parents. And her grandma died last spring before she got home from Europe. She only has us."

"Thank God for that. I'm glad Betty is moving in with her."

"Want to help us move her stuff this afternoon? Paul has a pickup."

"Sure."

"Want to hear the rest of the story? It gets worse."

"How could it?"

"Jonah was my brother's chemistry lab partner...they were best friends. Senior year Paul was the star wide receiver; Dad was so proud. Jonah and Doris went to all his games; she was a freshman at U.M. They sat on the bleachers with Dad and me." I stop for air and then gulp. "The three of them enlisted together...Jonah, Doris, and Paul. July 1943. I can't talk anymore."

"I can't hear anymore, but thanks for telling me. I'll watch my tongue."

Our food is ready. We eat without conversation. Gail brings my pale green pie.

William reaches for his wallet. Instead of removing cash, out comes another photo. He passes it across the table to me.

"Lord have mercy, it's Lucy the Elephant!" I admire the six story elephant-shaped tourist attraction. "It's on the beach, but survived the '44 hurricane. When were you in Jersey? Who are those tiny people sitting on her toenails? Can I keep it?"

"No, you may not. Those tiny people are Bill and his girlfriend. It's my only picture of him."

"They could be anybody, but it's understandable that you want to keep it...however...since I named my dog after her, the least you can do is will it to me."

"Fair enough.  So you've seen Big Lucy?

"Yes, twice. We visit my grandparents up north. When I was twelve, Betty took me to New York City to see The Rockettes Precision Dance Company perform their annual Christmas show. I'll be up on stage with them someday."

"So it's Betty's fault that you dream of becoming a professional dancer."

"Not just any dancer. A Rockette."

"So you dance and she cooks?"

"And Paul fixes cars, and Dad plays golf, and Mom used to paint, but now she bakes."

"Don't tell me she still bakes?"

"Yes, but Betty's trying to teach her to cook, rather than bake desserts. We can't depend on my sister for meals now that she's moving in with Doris."

"How long has Betty been cooking?"

"Forever. She used to help Mom. Since Sam died, it's been the other way around. Betty cooks to sooth her nerves."

"Do you remember when Sam died?"

" June of '42. You triggered a memory. I was eavesdropping as Mom comforted her."

"Betty, we'll stay here with you. Your sister and I can go up north next year."

"No, mother. I don't want Janet to see me crying all summer. She's just a child; needs to have fun. I'll cook for Daddy and Paul. You two go."

"I can't leave you like this," mom says.

"Janet's so anxious to see the shore, boardwalk, and Big Lucy. What about grandma? How can we disappoint her?"

"June of '42. Midway," whispers William.

Instantly my head snaps back to reality. It's 1945.

"I'm too full to ever eat again. Thank you for the delicious lunch."