Six weeks later, on Christmas Eve, as Toby walked off a stage to thunderous applause at the army post in Pusan, he was handed a cable, informing him that Millie had died while giving birth to a stillborn son.
Toby was free.
14
August 14, 1952, was Josephine Czinski’s thirteenth birthday. She was invited to a party by Mary Lou Kenyon, who had been born on the same day. Josephine’s mother had forbidden her to go. “Those are wicked people,” Mrs. Czinski admonished her. “You’ll be better off stayin’ home and studyin’ your Bible.”
But Josephine had no intention of remaining at home. Her friends were not wicked. She wished that there was some way she could make her mother understand. As soon as her mother left, Josephine took five dollars that she had earned by baby-sitting and went downtown, where she bought a lovely white bathing suit. Then she headed for Mary Lou’s house. She had a feeling it was going to be a wonderful day.
Mary Lou Kenyon lived in the most beautiful of all the Oil People mansions. Her home was filled with antiques and priceless tapestries and beautiful paintings. On the grounds were guest cottages, stables, a tennis court, a private landing strip and two swimming pools, an enormous one for the Kenyons and their guests and a smaller one in back for the staff.
Mary Lou had an older brother, David, of whom Josephine had caught glimpses from time to time. He was the most handsome boy Josephine had ever seen. He seemed about ten feet tall with broad, football shoulders and teasing gray eyes. He was an All-America halfback and had been given a Rhodes scholarship. Mary Lou had also had an older sister, Beth, who had died when Josephine was a little girl.
Now, at the party, Josephine kept looking around hopefully for David, but she did not see him anywhere. In the past, he had stopped to speak to her several times, but each time Josephine had reddened and stood there, tongue-tied.
The party was a big success. There were fourteen boys and girls. They had eaten an enormous lunch of barbecue beef, chicken, chili and potato salad and lemonade, served on the terrace by uniformed butlers and maids. Then Mary Lou and Josephine opened their presents, while everyone stood around and commented on them.
Mary Lou said, “Let’s all go for a swim.”
Everyone made a dash for the dressing rooms at their side of the pool. As Josephine changed into her new bathing suit, she thought that she had never been so happy. It had been a perfect day, spent with her friends. She was one of them, sharing the beauty that surrounded them everywhere. There was nothing evil about it. She wished she could stop time and freeze this day so that it would never end.
Josephine stepped out into the bright sunlight. As she walked toward the pool, she became aware that the others were watching her, the girls with open envy, the boys with sly, covert looks. In the past few months Josephine’s body had matured dramatically. Her breasts were firm and full, straining against her bathing suit, and her hips hinted at the lush, rounded curves of a woman. Josephine dived into the pool, joining the others.
“Let’s play Marco Polo,” someone called out.
Josephine loved the game. She enjoyed moving around in the warm water with her eyes tightly closed. She would call out, “Marco!” and the others would have to reply, “Polo!” Josephine would dive after the sound of their voices before they got away, until she tagged someone, and then that person became “it.”
They began the game. Cissy Topping was “it.” She went after the boy she liked, Bob Jackson, but could not get him, so she tagged Josephine. Josephine closed her eyes tightly and listened for the telltale sound of splashes.
“Marco!” she called out.
There was a chorus of “Polo!” Josephine made a dive for the nearest voice. She felt around in the water. There was no one there.
“Marco!” she called.
Again, a chorus of “Polo!” She made a blind grab but reached only thin air. It did not matter to Josephine that they were faster than she; she wanted this game to go on forever, as she wanted this day to last until eternity.