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go
because Andrew says I should.' 'Andrew?' Her mind was on Mac, not Noelle.
'My older brother. I s'pose he's right. He usually is. But I miss you. I wish
you'd come back.'
'Thanks, Noelle. I miss all of you, too, but my course load is
extra-heavy...'
It wasn't a good excuse but it was the best she could offer. She didn't know
why
she hadn't told Noelle that Mac was in Kenya. Maybe it sounded too final.
The letter to Mac inviting him to Kenya had been real. She had seen it. Why
had
it come when it came? Why did it seem tied in with Luisa's barging into the
Church House? Why did it all seem to have something to do with Korea? Finally
she went to the library to look up books and articles about the Korean War.
She
took a stack of papers and magazines to- her carrel to go over in. moderate
privacy. What she read did not comfort her. She could not relate it to the
young
man who had taken her into the Church House, given her his full concern as
she
poured out her anger and anguish, helped pull her back into perspective. Nor
to
the young man with whom she drank coffee and talked about books, about stars,
about music, about the kids and their problems. Who kissed her with a
wonderful
totalness. Who had her love.
The Korean War was the first war in which Americans had fought where there was
a
complete collapse of morale among prisoners. One of every three American
prisoners of war, she read, actually was guilty of some kind of collaboration
with the Communists.
No.
There is no objectivity in history. This was one writer's point of view. It
had
nothing to do with Mac.
She shoved the article away, knocking it to the floor. Picked it up. Leafed
through another journal. Almost worse than the collaboration was the lack of
loyalty among the men, the lack of any esprit de corps. P.O.W.s scrambled
over
each other for privilege. For food. Informed on each other.
On the next page of the magazine was an article attacking Pope Pius XII for
proclaiming the dogma of the bodily assumption of the Virgin Mary. It made
about
as much sense as what she was reading about the lack of morale in Korea.
A shadow fell across the page and she turned to see Nan, the pianist.
'Cam? Are you okay?' 'Sure. I'm fine.'
Madeleine L'Engle,62
Nan glanced at the magazine. 'This doesn't look like physics.'
'Nan, do you know much about the Korean Wars' Nan shook her head. 'I'm a
music
major. Why?' 'Luisa's brother Frank was over there.'
'And?'
'It seems to be a total hole in my education. If I spend the summer with
Luisa
I'll probably see Frank, so I thought I'd better. . .'Her voice trailed off.
Her
words sounded lame. 'Nan, do you know if Frank was a prisoner of war?'
Nan shook her head. 'I'm not sure. I think maybe Luisa did mention it.'
'Thanks. And, Nan, if you don't mind, don't tell Luisa I asked.'
Nan laughed. 'Luisa's my roommate and I love her, despite myself. But
remember,
I live with her. Give me some credit.' 'Thanks.'
'And take care of yourself, Cam. Stop skipping meals. I'm giving an all-Bach
recital in Page Hall Saturday afternoon. Will you come?'
'Sure. Of course.'
'And then we'll go out somewhere 'Good. That'll be fun.'
Nan left, with an anxious glance over her shoulder at Camilla, who turned to
another article. She felt vaguely queasy, and wondered what she had eaten
that
had upset her. It seemed that the young Americans were not prepared for any
kind
of deprivation, for unfamiliar food, for ideological indoctrination.
Affluence
had made them soft.
No. Not Mac. And certainly a lot of the men who fought in that war did not
come
from affluent backgrounds. Some of them went to escape grinding poverty. The
writer was making stupid generalizations. She shoved the magazine aside,
opened
another.
Read. Frowned. Pushed her hair out of her face. Read. It
afterwards and eat.'
A Live Coal in the Sea»63
was the first time an enemy had tried to convert prisoners of war to their
way
of thinking. The writer of the article was convinced that some of the
prisoners
believed what they were told, that the Americans were warmongers, and it was
the
Communists who were working for peace. These men were willing to make
broadcasts
praising Communism and downgrading democracy.
The articles explained nothing, certainly not Kenya. It was not so much that
Mac
had gone to Kenya as the way he had gone, abruptly, without warning, as
though
she didn't matter, as though the love growing between them didn't matter. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]