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Show The major source of my discomfort in my f a t h e r ' s presence was t h a t Brian and I f e l t so g u i l t - r i d d e n . In a d d i t i o n to letting my parents think we had been married in Mexico, there was the l i e about B r i a n ' s ' l o s t o r d e r s .' "Somehow they've l o s t h i s orders, Mama," I told her when she asked about the length of B r i a n ' s ' l e a v e . ' "We're c e r t a i n ly not going to c a l l and ask them to send him some new ones! Maybe they've forgotten about ^him a l t o g e t h e r . Then he wouldn't have to go to Vietnam." We wanted d e s p e r a t e l y to b e l i e v e the t a l e ourselves, that his military f i l e had been l o s t and t h a t no one had r e a l i z e d that he was AWOL. But we were faced with proof of the l i e. We had run out of money, for the Marine Corps had stopped sending my allotment as soon as Brian was reported AWOL. I had borrowed from my mother's meagre r e s e r v e s , but she had barely enough to buy g r o c e r i e s , e s p e c i a l l y with an e x t r a mouth to feed. And Brian c o u l d n ' t bear to ask h i s mother for help, nor would I ask anything more of my f a t h e r . Somehow we f e lt that such requests would be regarded as an admission of our inadequacy as marriage p a r t n e r s and of B r i a n ' s cowardice. Cowardice. It was B r i a n ' s word, not mine. In my mind, each day that he was AWOL was another day t h a t he stayed a l i v e. We talked of going to Canada. Rumors had r e c e n t l y begun to filter through the newspapers t h a t young men c a l l e d for the draft were ducking i n t o Canada. The draft-dodgers were regarded as deserters by the Johnson Administration. "Deserters," Brian said, shaking h i s head. "Desertion is Punishable by death, you know." I gasped. "Not r e a l l y !" |
