Date: 8/3/2011

glee :P

Six minutes to six, said d great round clock over d in4mation booth in Grand Central Station. D tall young Army lieutenant who had just come from d direction of d tracks lifted his sunburned face, and his eyes narrowed to note d exact time. His heart was pounding wit a beat that shocked him because he could not control it. In six minutes, he would see d woman who had filled such a special place in his life 4 d past 13 months, d woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been wit him and sustained him unfailingly.
He placed himself as close as he could to d in4mation booth, just beyond d ring of people besieging d clerks...
Lieutenant Bland4d remembered one night in particular, d worst of d fighting, when his plane had been caught in d midst of a pack of Zeros. He had seen d grinning face of one of d enemy pilots.
In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days be4e this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course u fear ... all brave men do. Didnt King David know fear? Thats why he wrote d 23rd Psalm. Next time u doubt urself, I want u to hear my voice reciting to u: Yea, though I walk through d valley of d shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, 4 Thou art wit me." And he had remembered; he had heard her imagined voice, and it had renewed his strength and skill.
Now he was going to hear her real voice. Four minutes to six. His face grew sharp.
Under d immense, starred roof, people were walking fast, like threads of color being woven into a gray web. A girl passed close to him, and Lieutenant Bland4d started. She was wearing a red flower in her suit lapel, but it was a crimson sweet pea, not d little red rose dy had agreed upon. Besides, this girl was too ung, about 18, whereas Hollis Meynell had frankly told him she was 30. "Well, what of it?" he had answered. "Im 32." He was 29.
His mind went back to that book - d book d Lord Himself must have put into his hands out of d hundreds of Army library books sent to d Florida training camp. Of Human Bondage, it was; and throughout d book were notes in a womans writing. He had always hated that writing-in-habit, but dse remarks were different. He had never believed that a woman could see into a mans heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on d bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had got hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written, she had answered. Next day he had been shipped out, but dy had gone on writing.
4 13 months, she had faithfully replied, and more than replied. When his letters did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him.
But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. That seemed radr bad, of course. But she had explained: "If ur feeling 4 me has any reality, any honest basis, what I look like wont matter. Suppose Im beautiful. Id always be haunted by d feeling that u had been taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose Im plain (and u must admit that this is more likely). Dn Id always fear that u were going on writing to me only because u were lonely and had no one else. No, dont ask 4 my picture. When u come to New York, u shall see me and dn u shall make ur decision.
Remember, both of us r free to stop or to go on after that - whichever we choose..."
One minute to six - he pulled hard on a cigrtte.
Dn Lieutenant Bland4ds heart leaped higher than his plane had ever done.
A ung woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In her pale green suit, she was like springtime come alive.
He started toward her, entirely 4getting to notice that she was wearing no rose, and as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.
"Going my way, soldier?" she murmured.
Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Dn he saw Hollis Meynell.
She was standing almost directly behind d girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump; her thick-ankled feet were thrust into low- heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose in d rumpled lapel of her brown coat.
D girl in d green suit was walking quickly away.
Bland4d felt as though he were being split in two, so keen was his desire to follow d girl, yet so deep was his longing 4 d woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld his own; and dre she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible; he could see that now. Her gray eyes had a warm, kindly twinkle.
Lieutenant Bland4d did not hesitate. His fingers gripped d small worn, blue leadr copy of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even rrr than love - a friendship 4 which he had been and must ever be grateful.
He squrd his broad shoulders, saluted and held d book out toward d woman, although even while he spoke he felt shocked by d bitterness of his disappointment.
"Im Lieutenant John Bland4d, and u - u r miss Meynell. Im so glad u could meet me. May...may I take u to dinner?"
D womans face broadened in a tolerant smile. "I dont know what this is all about, son," she answered. "That ung lady in d green suit - d one who just went by - begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if u asked me to go out wit u, I should tell u that shes waiting 4 u in that big restaurant across d street. She said it was some kind of a test. Ive got two boys wit Uncle Sam myself, so I didnt mind to oblige u."



Blogs
Main