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Bill is Rescued But Mistaken for a German Spy and is Imprisoned

Chapter Forty-Nine

Helen couldn’t wait to go to work the next day and see John, and as usual, he was waiting for her by the time clock. “Fuel filter,” he said as she approached. “Fuel filter,” her smiling reply. When she got to her workstation, Millie asked, “What’s this about a fuel filter I heard you two talking about at the time-clock?” Helen just punched her lightly on the shoulder as she had seen the men around her do from time to time, “What fuel filter?”

As Helen sat at her workstation welding the number

‘38’

next to the heart enclosing her initials, a car with Western Union written boldly on its sides pulled up in front of 4718 Winona Terrace. A young man wearing a Western Union uniform and cap got out, climbed the three steps to the front stoop and knocked on the front door.

It was a cold day in late January. Helen would remember it as the 28th. Jean was in the kitchen washing the breakfast dishes, and she wondered who would be knocking on her door. Hardly anyone ever stopped by to visit, especially since Bud died. Walking past the front window and wringing her hands on her apron, she noticed the Western Union car parked out front, and she almost collapsed as her knees suddenly went weak. It could only mean one thing.

Opening the door, the young man asked, “Mrs. Bowers?”

“No, I’m Mrs. Bowers’ mother. What can I do for you?” already knowing the dreaded answer.

“I have a telegram for Mrs. Bowers,” handing her the telegram, “I’d appreciate it if you’d sign here,” handing her a clipboard and a pencil. Jean’s hands were shaking so much it was difficult to sign where the delivery boy had pointed. Handing the clipboard and pencil back to the young man, she said, “Thank you,” and gently closed the door.

Standing there with the telegram envelope in her hands, she wanted to open it, but it was addressed to Helen. She tried to shake it so she could see

its contents through the glassine window, but try as hard as she could, the telegram wouldn’t budge. She walked into the living room and put it on the mantle over the fireplace under the photo of her and Bud taken on their wedding day, so many years ago.

Helen’s day at work went by quickly, interspersed with stealthy glances at John and a few whispered “Fuel filters”. Although she still loved Bill, he hadn’t been there for her when she needed him, and she still hadn’t heard from him yet. Maybe her attraction to John was just a young girl’s passing fancy, and when he got tired of her, he would move on to the next apprentice welder like Millie had warned her. Right now, she didn’t care. What she was feeling was fun, exciting, and new, and she hoped it would last, and help her get through the long days as she waited for Bill to return home.

Although she knew she would probably never leave Bill for John, her relationship with John made her feel wanted again. Sleeping with him, however, was out of the question. Not as long as she was married, although she knew there might be situations when it might be difficult for her to say “

NO

”. She’d have to be careful and not let things get out of hand. Now that she had some time to think about it, she regretted sending Bill the “Dear John” letter. It just seemed the right thing to do at the time.

After getting home from work, she walked in through the front door and cheerfully called out, “Mom, I’m home, where are you?”

“I’m in the living room, Helen. Why don’t you come in here and talk to me.”

Helen hung her coat in the front hall closet, took off her scarf and gloves, and put them onto the shelf over her coat. Walking into the living room where her mother was waiting for her, she wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Her mother was sitting in Bud’s favorite chair, smoking a cigarette with a Martini on the nearby table.