Enemies in Love

Enemies in Love Instantly smitten, two souls are torn by overpowering love of an enemy they were born to hate A Tailgunner’s Diary Unable to penetrate the barriers, he volunteers to die in the skies over Germany - Life Expectancy is eleven missions What am I doing in Chicago Separated by his family’s move to LA, he yearns for his highschool sweetheart That’s All Brother The ‘flip’ name they Christened their B-24 bomber . The Box in the Attic Diary stored in the Attic for fifty years 2010 by Wesley Carrington Greayer All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publishers, except, by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper or magazine. First printing. This story is true, only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. It chronicles the author's youth through his return from combat after flying thirty-five missions over Germany with the Eighth Air Corp during WWII. It covers his romantic and aerial battles until he completed his tour and returned home to find his highschool sweetheart . 'married'. Dialogues are a product of the author's imagination but are in keeping with events reported. Mission log entries are from the author's actual ‘Mission Log', which he recorded upon his return from each mission on a 4' x 4' piece of drywall next to his bunk. The log entries record mission targets, bombs dropped, flight times, crews lost, and other significant events during each mission. Descriptions of other events are the author's recollection of his experience; any resemblance to real incidents or persons, living or dead, is entirely intentional . Dedication To the airmen of the Eighth Air Force who suffered the highest casualty rate of any US combat group in WWII and who died solitary deaths in the frigid skies high above Europe. To our children, Gregg, Dawn, and Robert, who would not be here had I perished with my comrades. To my granddaughter, Amanda, who offered me sage advice on my first novel. To my granddaughter, Meredith and my grandsons, Daniel and Isaac. A special thanks to my wife, Susan, who was six-years-old when I enlisted and who rescued me from bachelorhood when she became my wife. Acknowledgments I am indebted to the men and women who struggle every day to produce meaningful art, and who sustain one another in countless writers’ groups throughout the country. Without their support and encouragement, none of us would have the courage to face the blank page day after day. The following is but a short list of authors, editors, writing instructors, and agents who have provided hope. Ruth Adams, Shaye Areheart (Editor), Louise Glynn Barr, Loretta Barrett (agent), Sandra Blanton (Agent), Drucilla Campbell (Editor), Sally Conley (Agent), Ray Corn,, Helen Duggins, Lilian Gafni, Bob Gifford, Helen Gorey, Robert Gorman, Gil Hamblet, Ray Harris, Russ Herrington, Julie Jeffery, Mary Ann Joyful, Dave Kenney, Jack King, Beverly Knudson, Bill Lashbrook (deceased), Mary Liz Lowe, Ludmilla Luckevich, Jean C. Mangels, Greg Miguel, Dave Milam, Tom Mooney, Janette Moote, Martha Morehead, Eleanor Nicholson, John Nursall, Jean Shriver, Cat Spydell, Dave Turner, Dr. Ross Winterowd (Writing Professor). Greayer Enemies in Love 3 (310) 377-6500 A Tailgunner’s Diary [email protected] Prologue The Box in the Attic Two years ago, on a bright, sunny, California day, Brian, Helen, and Alex returned to the old homestead, a huge white house on a hillside overlooking the slate-blue Pacific, to do the necessary. It comes to each of us . eventually, . one day you must dispose of your parents' belongings; that is a given. This was that day. The ache of their passing had long since passed and they were in high spirits as they confronted their chore. There was little to do; they had made all the major decisions. Helen would take the jewelry, silver, and china; Brian wanted the sculpture and paintings, and Alex would take Pop's books. They only had to divvy up the memorabilia and then turn the relatives loose. What the relatives Greayer Enemies in Love 4 (310) 377-6500 A Tailgunner’s Diary [email protected] didn't want, they could give to Goodwill. When Brian and Alex arrived at the house, Helen came bounding over and gave each of them a hug and a peck on the cheek. She said, "Hi Alex. Hi Brian. The place looks great. Mom's Agapanthus and Impatiens are in full bloom." Basking in the morning sun, their birthplace welcomed them. They felt the first pang as they climbed the brick staircase between the cool, green lawn on their left and the flower beds, ablaze with color, on their right. They could almost see Mom and Pop greeting them from the upstairs family room balcony. Pop had hung bird-feeders all round the eaves. A red, See-Rock-City birdhouse sat on the balcony railing, and a hummingbird was feeding at the bird feeder. This wouldn't be easy. Like old times, they gravitated to the octagonal game-table in a corner of the huge family room; the oak surface worn smooth by the many wild games of quadruple-solitaire they played there. Helen slipped quickly through a French-window onto the balcony and refilled the bird feeders. When she peeked inside the birdhouse, a red-crested finch, sitting on the jacaranda tree, put up a hell of a ruckus and flew at her. Fleeing indoors and hastily closing the door, Helen said, "Cranky little devil." Gazing out over the red tile rooftops, toward the sea, Brian said, "This always was my favorite spot. Can’t you see Mom and Dad lounging here sipping their breakfast tea?" Alex nodded. "Adding the birdhouse and bird feeders was a great idea. Too bad none of us can afford to live here." Helen said, "Don't need any reminders, thank you." Then, with a faraway look in her eyes, she said, "I couldn't live here anyhow; . I'd get too weepy." Turning toward Alex, she said, "We know what we came for, let's get this over so we can get out of here." Then, in a more spirited voice, she kidded them. "Which one of you sports is going to treat me to lunch?" Helen was much too optimistic. They got no lunch that day. How do you divide thirty-eight photo albums, sixty-seven teapots (all with date and place of purchase carefully noted), and enough needlework to fill a museum? Pop owned every tool and gadget known to man, but neither Brian nor Alex had a clue, so they left them for cousin Tom. After that, there was just junk left, stuff with no value. But each item they tried to toss had invisible tentacles; memories attached to each inanimate object. Their stacks of worthless memorabilia grew larger: an ancient doll, a worn out Derby, a chipped baseball bat, a broken cane. Helen said it first. "What are we looking for?" "Nothing." Alex said, "We know life isn't forever. and, let's face it, we had a lot to be thankful for." "We were lucky." Brian said, "They were always happy and healthy." "And don’t forget, wealthy." Alex said, "We didn't have to think about them too much; they let us live our own lives." "Yeah, right." Brian said, "Especially if you lived on Mars." Alex laughed. "I only did the necessary, such as sending birthday and Christmas cards." Brian said, "You were always out of the country; what else could you do from Siberia?" Greayer Enemies in Love 5 (310) 377-6500 A Tailgunner’s Diary [email protected] Helen said, "And as with most parents, they were always, parenting. It was their job, after all." Alex nodded . " And though "we children" were all grown with families, professional degrees, and successful careers, we still received advice on every aspect of our lives." Brian called him Father, Helen called him Dad, and Alex called him Pop. In a way, these differing titles reflected their different relationships. Brian seemed to handle it best, but he had to go through ten years of therapy to overcome Pop's excessive parenting when he was just a kid. Anyhow, that morning before Alex set out to meet his siblings to divvy up the booty, he was reading the comics over a cup of coffee and he saw Mel Lazarus' witty strip, Momma. It captured the essence of their relationship with their parents perfectly. Momma's daughter Lucy was visiting, and said, "You know, Momma, when some girls spend time with their mothers like this, they actually find it dull, boring, very, very monotonous, and even unbearable." . After a pregnant pause, Lucy said, . "I don't find it unbearable." Alex shared this with Brian and Helen and they all laughed heartily, . as their parents would have done. Yes, that cartoon said it best. They had them pigeon-holed. Like most children they could easily believe in the immaculate conception; that's the only way they could explain their presence. No way could they envision their parents ever copulating. Oh, their Mother was a charmer, . no mistake, . with her soft southern accent she was always the life of any party. She had suitors lined up from here to Kalamazoo, but she rejected them all until that day she saw their Father. She snagged him at a St. Patrick's day dance. They all had heard her tell the story a thousand times, . how her girlfriend asked if she saw anyone interesting and she replied, "Only that charming older gentleman over there." How she could call him charming was a mystery to them.

Load more