The High Calling Page 9

  “I will, Miss Kat.”

  As Kat left the room, Mrs. Massey was coming down the hall. “It means so much, Nurse Winslow, that Bobby’s come to trust you,” she said.

  “Bobby and I have prayed, and I’ll be here tomorrow before he goes into surgery. Everything’s going to be fine. You just wait and see.”

  Kat took the woman’s thanks and made her way to her station. She picked up her purse, said good-bye to the other nurses, and left the hospital.

  As she stepped outside, her hat nearly blew off in the stiff March wind. She hung on to it and scurried down the sidewalk that led toward the parking lot. She had not gone far, however, when she heard her name being called and looked up to see Brodie Lee. He was loping easily toward her, and she suddenly thought how rarely he walked anywhere. He had more energy than any man she had ever known.

  He stopped in front of her, grinning crookedly. “I’ve been waitin’ for you.”

  “When did you get back, Brodie?”

  “About two hours ago. I called your house, and your dad told me what time you got off.” He took her arm and propelled her along. “Come on. We’ve got some catchin’ up to do. I haven’t been around to watch you lately. Tell me what mischief you’ve been gettin’ into.”

  As Brodie hurried her along toward his car, Kat reflected on their strange relationship. Brodie had been in and out of her life for the past three years. He would fly in, stay for a few days or a week, and then be gone for long periods. He had held several jobs, including flying for the U.S. Postal Service and flying transports. He had even volunteered to help the Loyalists in the civil war in Spain, spending the last part of 1938 there and staying through until the war was over in April of 1939. He hadn’t been to the Winslow farm now for several months, and as Kat got into the car, she asked, “Where have you been?”

  Brodie started the car and said, “Mostly just hopping around the States, delivering mail again. After that stint in Spain, I decided to stay out of dangerous situations for a while.” He gunned the car out of the lot, breaking every speeding law on the books, as always. “There’s gonna be a change in my life.”

  “That’s good. What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve decided to get a job sellin’ ladies’ shoes. Then I’m gonna marry you and sit on the front porch every day after work readin’ the paper.”

  “I can just see that,” she said with a laugh. “You can’t sit still for ten minutes.”

  “You just don’t know me, Kat. I actually hate activity. I’m a natural-born bum.”

  “You are not! You’re the most active human being I’ve ever met. You’re like an ant in hot ashes.”

  He denied all this and finally pulled up in front of a diner. “How about if you buy me lunch? I’m pretty well broke.”

  Kat just laughed and shook her head as the two got out of the car, went into the diner, and seated themselves. When the waitress came, Brodie winked at her and said, “This is our anniversary. We’ve been married twelve years.”

  The waitress, a small young woman with snapping black eyes, said, “You must have gotten married when you were ten years old.”

  “Actually I was twelve and my wife, Gwendolyn here, was eight. She liked older men.”

  The waitress laughed. “All right. What’ll you have?” She took their order and as soon as she left, Brodie started fishing in his pocket but came up empty-handed. “Give me some change, will you? I wanna plug the jukebox.”

  Kat gave him some change, and he went over and made his selections. By the time he returned to the table, Frank Sinatra was softly crooning “I’ll Never Smile Again.”

  “That’s the way I feel the whole time I’m gone,” he said. “I’ll never smile again until I see you.”

  “That’s sweet, Brodie.”

  Jimmie Davis picked up the tempo with “You Are My Sunshine,” and Brodie joined in with him, singing slightly off-key. “I like this song,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I’ve been keepin’ up with the popular music.”

  Tommy Dorsey’s orchestra was next, playing an older tune, “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You.”

  Brodie, who appeared to know the words to every popular song ever written, sang along with all of them. When the last song was over, he said, “You know what? I read in a magazine article about a test they did with some chimps at the Philadelphia Zoo. They played a bunch of wild jazz for them and scared the chimps half to death. They ran all over the place hiding under benches. But when they played this recording by Tommy Dorsey, the apes became tranquil and just sat there.”

  “You made that up.”

  “I did not! It was in the newspaper, so it must be true. I guess it proves jazz is just a fad, but ballads will never go out of fashion.”

  “Or it may have proved that the chimps didn’t have very good taste.”

  Brodie grinned at her. He reached over and put his hands over hers and held them until the waitress returned with their order. She put the food down, saying, “Happy anniversary.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll wait on you when you get old.”

  As the waitress left, he said to Kat, “I guess you wanna ask a blessin’.”

  “Yes, I do.” They both bowed their heads, and Kat said a short prayer of thanks. She was worried about Brodie, for she knew he lived a dangerous life and God was not a part of it. As they began to eat, he asked her about her own life. She told him about Bobby and some of the other patients at the hospital.

  “And what’s next? Are you gonna work at the hospital until you’re old and gray?”

  Kat bit into the hamburger and chewed it thoroughly. “I’ve applied to several missions organizations.”

  “So you won’t be staying around here?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Brodie swirled the dark fluid around in his coffee cup and then looked into her eyes. “You still tryin’ to read God’s mind?”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that, Brodie. I’m still trying to find out what God wants me to do.”

  Abruptly he asked, “You still hearing from that limey Braden?”

  “Once in a while. I don’t know if his wife appreciates it, though. Her twins are two-and-a-half now, you know. And he loves them as if they were his kids too.”

  “Wow—time sure does fly.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?”

  “Is he still making airplanes at his pop’s factory?”

  “No. He left that position to join the Royal Air Force. He’s a wing commander.” This caught Brodie’s attention, as she had known it would. When his eyes widened, she added, “He shot down five German planes.”

  “Now, that’s really something!” Admiration shaded his tone, and he nodded with appreciation. “I’d like to get in on that action.”

  “Didn’t you get enough fighting in Spain?”

  “It wasn’t much of a fight. The Germans had all their best planes, and all the Loyalists had was a few rickety crates. It was hard enough just to get them into the air. We had no chance at all of winnin’—not with Germany pouring their men and planes in there. Their Condor Legion was an awesome fightin’ force.”

  He took a big bite of his burger. “You really should consider marryin’ me, you know. If we were married—”

  “Brodie, it would scare you to death if I said yes. You know it’s true. Now let’s have some dessert.”

  ****

  Kat got out of the car in the hospital parking lot, and Brodie leaned out the window. “Don’t forget. Tomorrow night we’re doin’ the town. Bring plenty of money along. It may be expensive.”

  Kat smiled and shook her head. He never changed. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She got into her own car and drove home, where she was energetically greeted by Michael, Samuel, and Temple. As usual, they tugged and pulled at her, each vying for her attention. They were nearly eight years old now, and she marveled at how much they had grown. They were all tall, getting their height, no doubt, from their m
other.

  “You should take us to the movies tonight, Kat,” Temple said. “There’s a gangster movie on. Lots of people get shot, I bet.”

  “I’m not taking you to one of those awful movies, Temple.”

  Samuel, the quietest of the boys, asked, “Will you help me with my homework?”

  “I sure will, but you’re so smart you don’t need much help.” She reached over and hugged him, and he hugged her back. He was more affectionate than his brothers, and she could tell he was going to be a fine man.

  Michael piped up, “I got an A on my arithmetic at school today, just like you said I would.”

  “In that case, you deserve a reward.” She searched into her purse and pulled out a Hershey bar. “There.”

  “Hey, what about me!” Temple yelled. “I got a C.”

  “A C doesn’t deserve a candy bar. You get an A and we’ll see. What about you, Sam?”

  “I got a B.”

  “Well, you get half a candy bar, but don’t you boys eat them until after supper.”

  The three ran off yelling, and Kat went to the kitchen, where Missouri Ann was fixing supper.

  “That smells good, Mom. What is it?”

  “It’s chicken potpie and some hot-water pastry, and we’re gonna have rice puddin’ for dessert. You look plumb tired.”

  “I am a bit. Let me go change, and then I’ll help you.”

  “There’s no need of that. I was cookin’ ’fore you were born. I reckon I can handle one more meal.”

  “I know you can, but I want to help.”

  “You help enough workin’ at that hospital and then helpin’ take care of these rascally boys.”

  “How’s Dad today?”

  Missouri Ann turned away from the stove and hesitated for a moment. “He’s still not feeling too great today.”

  “I’m worried about him, Mom.”

  “Well, there’s no sense in worrying. I’ve been talking to the good Lord, and He’s promised me that your pa’s gonna be just fine. And when Dr. Jesus says a man is gonna be all right, there’s no need to worry.”

  “I wish I had your faith.”

  “You’re pickin’ it up as you go along, just like all the rest of us.” She peeked in the oven to check on the potpie. “Oh, there’s a letter come for you. I put it on the table over there.”

  Kat picked up the letter and read the return address, her eyes brightening. “It’s from International Missions. I sent them an application, but since they hadn’t answered yet, I thought they weren’t going to.” She read the letter silently for a few moments. “Ma, they’re offering me a position with them!”

  “Is that so? Does that mean you’ll be a missionary?”

  “It says here they want me to do medical work in England. They’ve got mission stations all over the world.”

  “Don’t they have doctors of their own there?”

  Kat was reading the letter more closely now. “I’d be working with very poor people off the streets of London. And their nurses also do some work in one of the large London hospitals.”

  “Do you think you’d like to go there?”

  “You know, ever since I applied, I thought this would be the mission organization that would take me. Of course I had no idea where they would send me.” She lowered the letter and shook her head. “You know, it’s the strangest thing. I suddenly feel that this is exactly what God wants me to do. Oh, Mom, isn’t that wonderful!”

  “It’s the Lord speakin’ to you, child. You’ve been seeking Him about your callin’ for three years or more now, and the Scripture says that everyone who seeks finds. Does it say when they want you to go?”

  “Almost right away. In a month.”

  “Reckon you know how much your pa and I will miss you. And the boys. They’re gonna plumb perish without you.”

  “It’ll be hard for me too. I’ve never really been away from home before.”

  “Well, you won’t be alone,” Missouri said with a smile.

  “Yes. The Lord will be with me.” Kat put her arms around the large woman. “I’ll miss you.”

  Missouri returned the embrace. “We’ll have to break the news to your pa. He’s gonna be awfully sad. Why don’t you go up and tell him.”

  “I’ll have to tell the boys too. Maybe I’ll take them out to a movie or something tonight and tell them when we get home.”

  “That Temple. He wants to see one of those awful gangster movies.”

  “There’s another movie on—a cartoon called Pinocchio. It’s harmless enough, I hear. Maybe I’ll take them to see that.”

  Kat went upstairs and found her father in his room. He had been lying down, but he sat up at once, propping a pillow behind his back. “Well, daughter, you’re home.”

  “How do you feel, Dad?”

  “A little better. I don’t think I have the flu, and I don’t need it.”

  “I’m glad you’re getting better. Dad, I’ve heard from one of the mission boards that I applied to. They’ve accepted me.”

  “That’s wonderful! Sit down and tell me all about it.”

  She sat on a chair near the bed and read parts of the letter to her father. They talked about the types of conditions she might encounter in her new work and all that she would need to do to get ready to leave.

  “I can’t tell you how proud I am, Kat. We Winslows have some missionaries over in Africa and other places, and now we’ll have one in England. I’ll miss you, though. We all will.”

  She looked out the window for a moment. “I’m a little apprehensive.”

  “About what?”

  “Well, I’ve never been away from home before—not really. Just on short vacations. But now I’ll be far away from everyone I know.”

  Lewis reached over and took her hand. “You’ll do fine,” he said warmly, his eyes approving. “You’ll be sharing the Gospel with people who need the Lord, and that’s what being a missionary is, whether it’s in Africa or in England.”

  ****

  “I tell you, there ought to be more fellas around like that Rhett Butler,” Brodie proclaimed, taking his eyes off the road to turn to Kat. “He had the right idea.”

  “That was such a good movie! He reminds me a little of you.”

  “Me!” Brodie grinned. “Well, he’s not quite as goodlookin’ as me, but we’re probably about the same height.”

  “I don’t mean the way you look. Nobody looks like Clark Gable.”

  Brodie feigned a crest-fallen look. “Why, you sure know how to hurt a fella.”

  “But you are a lot like Rhett. He joined the Confederacy when the cause was lost, and that’s what you did in Spain, isn’t it?”

  Brodie seemed unable to talk about his own better qualities. “Shucks, I just wanted to go see what all the shootin’ was about. Found out too.”

  “Weren’t you ever scared, Brodie? You don’t seem to be afraid of anything.”

  “Oh, I’ve been scared of lots of things.”

  “Tell me one.”

  “You remember a couple years ago when Orson Welles did that program of his?”

  “You mean the ‘War of the Worlds’ broadcast?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Well, I might as well confess. I was over in Georgia doin’ some crop dustin’, and when I got home that night I was all by myself, having a few beers. My buddies hadn’t come in yet. I turned on the radio and heard this announcer. You know how it went. The Martian monsters were setting fire to everythin’, pulling up power lines and bridges. Then they were wadin’ across the Hudson River. Well, I was just drunk enough to believe it. It scared me pretty good. I thought they were gonna kill us all!”

  “What did you do?”

  “I went outside and looked north toward New York and waited for the end to come.”

  “And you were really scared?”

  “You might say I was plumb uncomfortable.”

  “When did you find out it was a hoax?”

  “Oh, when the boys come in a little later,
I told ’em about it, and they laughed and said it was just a fool radio program.”

  “I remember that. It scared me too.”

  “I don’t know why it would,” Brodie said curiously. “You always say you’re ready to go meet the Lord. You shouldn’t be afraid of dying.”

  “I’m not . . . but even if you know you’re saved and going to heaven, it’s different when you’re actually facing it. I guess death frightens everybody because we haven’t done it before. There’s no way to practice it.”

  The two continued talking about the radio program until he pulled up in front of the house. As she had known he would, he reached over and tried to kiss her.

  “Thanks for taking me to the movie, Brodie.” She fidgeted with her purse in her lap. “I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve been trying to think of a way to bring it up all night.”

  “Are you going to preach me another sermon?”

  “No. Not this time.” She hesitated, then said, “I’ll be leaving soon.”

  He listened as she told him of her plans, and when she had finished, she said, “I really believe this is God’s will for me. It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”

  “So you’re going off and leavin’ ol’ Brodie, huh?”

  “You’ll get along fine. It’s my folks I worry about—and the boys.”

  He was quiet for a moment, absently running his fingers around the steering wheel. “I’ll miss you, Kat.”

  “I’ll miss you too, but I’ll write. And you can write me back.”

  “Well, I ain’t much on writin’ letters, but don’t forget me.”

  He got out of the car and came around to open her door. He walked to the steps with her, and when she turned to him, he said wistfully, “I feel like an orphan.”

  “Don’t be foolish. You go for months at a time without seeing me and you do just fine.”

  He reached out and ran his hand over her hair. He said nothing for a time and then leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Good-bye, Kat.” He turned and walked back to the car.

  As he drove away, Kat was puzzled. I expected him to try more than that when he said good-bye. It was not like Brodie Lee to give up on anything as easily as he had this night.

  She quietly slipped into the house, knowing everyone would be asleep. When she got to her room, she took her journal out of her drawer and wrote: March 26, 1940: God has called me to England. At last I know what He wants me to do!