The end of the War left America euphoric. It had been bloody, and many families lost loved ones. Mothers whose children were coming home, busied themselves making their sons’ favorite meal. Never getting to feed that boy again had been the specter that was their constant companion. Mothers who had jobs, took off from work to spend time with their boys when they returned. They had enough of putting on a stoic face for the last four years. A random touching of his hair or arm. Staring at him while he eats or is reading. These things meant as much to a Mom as a hug. That knife-edge fear of losing him was over. Her little boy is home. Dads were proud of the contribution their sons made to the war effort. Taking his son to his familiar haunts to talk with his friends and treat his son as an equal was a Dad’s way of touching his arm or stroking his hair. Fathers were just as afraid of a knock at the door as Mom. They kept their emotions in check because the family will need stability if the worst does come to pass. That collective sigh of relief in the country meant taking stock of what is next. America had lots to be proud of and a good reason to be confident in the future.
Mary had graduated from high school. She was ready to take her typing and shorthand skills out into the workforce. She was ready to get a job. She had no desire to continue her education. She found a job in a shipping warehouse as a secretary. The warehouse was near the rail lines and had been responsible for shipping materials that were manufactured locally and needed for the war effort. They were busy transitioning to a peacetime economy. No one knew which direction that business was going after the war, everyone knew things were going to be better. Winning a war does wonders for a nations’ confidence.
Mary went to work for Mr. Walker who owned the “Warehousing and Shipping” business. Really, she was interviewed by Boo Stanley and hired by him. He oversaw the logistical side of the business. She was supposed to arrange and keep track of all the bills of lading.
Boo was thirty years old and had worked for Mr. Walker for eight years. He was not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but capable and very dedicated to his job. He had suffered from rheumatic fever as a teenager and was not accepted into the military. In his defense, he did try to enlist. For the entire four years of the war, from time to time he was faced with the question, “Why aren’t you in the service?” When trying to explain to people why he did not serve, he was met with skeptical glances. He was a big man and looked the picture of health. He began to imagine what people must think about him. In reality, not many people gave it a second thought when they met him. Only a few ever asked him. His being an asshole was really the reason for most of the questions.
The Walkers had a son named Robert. He was their only child and the heir apparent to the business. Bob was killed fighting in Anzio. The loss of their only child destroyed the couple. After hearing her son was killed, Mrs. Walker never smiled again. Mr. Walker became distraught. Choosing to turn his focus inward, he left his business for his supervisors to manage. That is how Boo gained so much influence in the warehouse.
Boo was working at the same desk and office the late Bob Walker used. This turn of events did little to help Boo with his sense of self. No matter how hard he worked, he always felt he was little more than a stand-in till someone else came along. He was a physically imposing man, but he never realized how that affects the people he was around. He averted the eyes of others, not because he had dishonest motives. He just imagined they did not like him. Which was true. They did not like him because of the way they perceived his intentions. His intentions were to try and navigate through life without getting his feelings hurt. His personal problems became a Gordian Knot. You cannot fix something if you do not know what is wrong.
Bob had left behind a Staghorn Italian stiletto on his desk. He used it as a letter opener. It was a fine knife. Great steel and a perfect handle made this knife a work of art. Like a great handgun, it was a pleasure to hold and look at. Just the right weight and balance. It also gave a sense of empowerment in one’s hands like a fine gun. Boo had a habit of staring down at the knife he was holding while talking to others. He had no idea how not looking at someone while talking to them was perceived. The only visual clue he gave, was as a man holding a knife. Mary and Mr. Walker understood Boo. They had no problems working with him, he did want to do a good job. That initial meeting with Boo, left most people with a bad taste in their mouths.
Mr. Walker, despite his absentee status, did let it be known that he wanted the returning veterans be given preferential treatment in hiring. This peeved Boo. He thought the end of the war meant he was not to be reminded that he did not do his part. This was front and center in his mind when three returning veterans entered his office to apply for jobs. They all looked nervous, this was the first step of their new lives and they wanted to leave the past behind. Boo looked up to see the first guy in line. He was skinny and drawn-looking. Malaria and dysentery on Iwo Jima have lasting effects. That nervous look on their faces gave Boo a false sense of power.
What was said next was in dispute. Two of the Veterans said Boo threatened them with a knife. What Boo missed when he looked up from his desk was the perfect follow-through of the Olympic Hammer Throw by that “Skinny Little Shit” (Boos’ description of the man). He could not see it because when he looked up the typewriter that was to break his zygomatic arch, nose, maxilla, and lower jaw was just six inches from his face and blocking the view.
The police and ambulance arrived quickly, and Boo was tended to by the nurses from the ambulance. He could not speak because of his injuries, but nothing was wrong with his hearing. Two of the men said he had threatened them with a knife. His secretary said she is not sure if he threatened them or not, but he was waving the knife around. The guy who threw the typewriter said nothing, he just sat down in a chair and stared at the floor. It turns out he was incapable of speech at that moment, he was in shock. Boo could not even speak to defend himself. The ambulance departed with two patients and clean-up began.
Thankfully for Boo, that “Skinny Little Shit” brought with him lots of highly skilled trauma surgeons when he returned from the war. For months he was to have all sorts of surgeries, oral and cosmetic. Being fed through a tube in your nose because your jaw is wired shut leaves a fellow plenty of time to reflect. The fact that the secretary did not know his motives was the worst part. He thought she knew him better than that. The fact that he could not even talk, left him to endure his time with the “Ghost of Christmas Past” in silence. He profited from his time of self-reflection and recognized what he needed to change. Luckily for him, the surgeons were not perfect in their work. Things were not quite symmetrical. He was left with the hint of what can be best described as a wry smile. He went from being the broody-looking hulk of a man to someone who looks like he has something funny to say on the tip of his tongue. Boo became “Ole Boo”.
Mr. Walker awoke from his stupor because of this incident. He knew and understood Boo. He took over Boo’s job and worked with Mary in the office. He stood by through all the surgeries and made sure that he knew his job was waiting for him when he was able to return. Mr. Walker also realized that he had lots of young people working for him. They had families and children to raise. He may not have a son anymore, but he can help provide a life for lots of young men and women. Lots of kids will have a good life because of him. He threw himself into providing a great job for his employees. He also started working on trying to get his wife involved in planning the company parties. Maybe that can help.