The Lines Between Us by Amy Green

Author:Amy Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction;Christian fiction;Suspense fiction;FIC042030;FIC014050;FIC026000
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2021-07-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

Gordon Hooper

January 22, 1945

After a long day’s work, hot water pouring down your back was a welcome feeling, during January in particular. Sometimes the other COs started singing in the shower—folk tunes and praise choruses from the Mennonite songbook, and even the occasional popular song when the Apostle Tom wasn’t around. One time, Shorty gargled a full verse of “Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral” before he choked on a high note.

The point was, fellows let their guard and their pants down at about the same time in the shower house. That made it the perfect place for a Monday night interrogation—and better, one where Dorie couldn’t possibly listen in and then tell me what I did wrong.

So when I saw Lloyd lift a stiff white towel out of the clean laundry bin an hour before curfew, I did the same, hauling along my kit with its toothbrush and government-issue soap that smelled like congealed disappointment.

“Going to wash up, boys?” Shorty barreled his way past us to the door before we could answer. “Better hurry, or I’ll get all the hot water.”

So much for a private conversation with Lloyd.

Not like you’ll find anything out anyway. Dorie probably gave you this job because she knows you’d mess up anything serious. You’re useless at this.

Stop it, I ordered myself, pulling up my coat against the cold wind. That’s what my father had always said about me. Useless.

But it wasn’t true. I could do this.

Once we’d taken three of the four shower stalls, I took a deep breath and started in on the interrogation as I undressed. “Awful, wasn’t it? Morrissey telling us about Jack like that yesterday.”

“Sure was.” Shorty’s voice from the stall next to me, usually animated, had tempered a bit. “Don’t think it’s sunk in yet.” Lloyd didn’t add anything, but I heard the spray of his water turning on.

“I wish I’d gotten the chance to . . . say something to him before he left for the lookout.” I cleared my throat over the rising emotion. Not now. “Which reminds me. Did either of you notice anything . . . strange about Jack before he . . . you know, before the accident?”

“Like the fact that he ate his cornflakes dry instead of putting milk in them?”

“No, Shorty. Strange like . . . something he was worried about or someone he was upset with. You know.”

I winced, grateful they couldn’t see my expression. Acting casual was not my calling.

Thankfully, it didn’t sound like Shorty noticed. “Nothing I can think of. Except it seemed like the Apostle Tom was extra mad at him just before he left. I said to him, ‘What’d he do, Tom, freeze your long johns?’” Shorty’s braying laugh was distorted by the water. “He just said something about Jack not being worthy of our respect.”

True, that was a step above Thomas’s general dislike. I’d noticed it too, on the day Roger joined the military. But Dorie told me she’d spoken with Thomas and didn’t think he had anything to do with it, whatever that meant.

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