Chapter 2

THE CORRAL THEATER 1949

I woke up the next morning, more sober than for ... I couldn't remember. But I felt like hell. My hands were shaking and my head felt funny. Gene came in, opened up, and gave me a pint, not the best stuff but better that I usually drank. I had this image of me standing there, ripping off the top and guzzling the bottle down, feeling the hot relief, burning at first, then peace.

Instead I put the bottle in a pocket of the overalls, nodded thanks to Gene and mumbled something about the clothes. I went outside into a brilliantly sunny day. It was cold in the shade but more than a hint of warmth in the sun. There was not a breath of air.

I'd thought that with the big meal I'd eaten the previous night, I wouldn't be hungry. I walked east on Douglas, almost to the Chevy dealer. There was a breakfast place that had simple but good hearty food. For two bucks from the five that John gave me, I had ham steak and eggs, biscuits and all the coffee I could drink. With a smile, the waitress gave me a tall glass of cold milk. She remembered me from before when I was a beat cop and would stop off after the night shift. This was the first time she had seen me clean in a long time.

On the way back uptown I stopped off to talk to Gene for a few minutes. He was cleaning the mirror behind the bar but stopped and grabbed two cups and filled them from the coffee pot always there at the end of the bar.

"Crane, I've got to say, you clean up pretty good! You should get yourself looked at, it's lookin' like the jaundice is getting worse!"

I looked down and then looked him in the eye. I wanted to really thank him. I started to talk but he beat me to it.

"I might be outta place here, and if I am tell me. I can be a blunt old fool. I like you, Crane, always have. I remember what you were like before you went off to the war, and it's sad, the way you are now. People talk about war and fighting like it is a manly, gallant thing to do. I don't think that way, never have! War is sometimes necessary; a man's gotta take care of his own. But war kills people; it ruins lives.

"I'd like to help you if you'll let me. I know you're still a man. You look like hell but you got some pride left! I felt good leaving you here alone last night. I didn't have to worry none 'bout someone breaking into the bar, like it's been happenin' up on North Broadway. I knew you weren't gonna take no booze I didn't give ya. I trust you man!

"I'd like you to know you can stay here any night. You can have a glass at night and a pint in the morning. I'll give you a couple of bucks for breakfast. You can use the shower like you did last night. I like the way you left everything clean! I just ask that you maybe clean up the bar a little, sweep up, things like that. Okay, Crane?"

I couldn't answer, with tears in my eyes I nodded and walked out.

It was a little warmer. I crossed to the train station and sat on a bench in the sun. I was lookin' at myself, and it wasn't good. I thought of my kids. With a heavy heart I sat there, dozing a little in the sun. Later I looked up at the clock on the tower and saw it was maybe time I could go over to see John at the movie theater. I could sweep the floor or something for him. It sounded good — to do something for someone.

I got to the corner down from the Corral and could see the girl, (Annie was it?), standing there in the sun, ringing her bells. The Saturday shoppers would walk by and for her cheery, "Merry Christmas" would drop a few coins, maybe a folded up bill into the kettle. I walked a little closer as I saw four or five others, three men and two women dressed like she was, in the dark wool uniform.

They started singing and I realized they were going from kettle to kettle, maybe to draw more attention to the kettles or maybe just to sing Christmas carols. They sang several of the old standards and then started in with "Joy to the World." On one of the stanzas, Annie did a solo. The crowd hushed and you could hear her clear contralto voice rising above the traffic on Douglas.

Before I hadn't really been listening to the words but this time they jumped out at me. I don't know, I guess it was Annie doing the singing, or her voice was so pure and clean ... but then maybe I needed those words at that time. If anyone was cursed, it was me.

As the carolers finished and the crowd cleared, I stood there, watching Annie. She had her uniform on, as I'd said, but the bonnet was off today and the sun made her hair shine, almost like a halo sitting on her head. She looked like a porcelain doll: clean-cut features, an aurora of innocence hovering over her.

As I walked over, her face lit up with a huge smile, and as she put out her hand and said, "Good afternoon, Crane! You look nice today."

Her hand felt comfortable in mine soft but capable. Somehow I got the feeling it was a no-nonsense hand, one made for doing, for working and not just an appendage to decorate with paint and jewelry. Managing a small smile, I saluted her with my hand and turned towards the Corral. Hesitating at first, and then giving in to some atavistic need, I thrust my hand in my pocket and with a quick movement put the three dollars change from breakfast in the kettle and turned hurriedly back to the theater.

It was about an hour before opening and John hadn't had a chance to sweep up between all the seats. He was glad to have me there to help. I started working, not feeling too good. There was a sharp pain where I knew my liver was. I started sweating and had to sit down for a bit. I got the job finished and went out to get a soda from John. I felt dehydrated and knew I needed some liquid.

I went in and sat, waiting for the people to arrive and the movie to start. I dozed a little and woke up to hear Gene singing to his horse, Champion:

I pulled out my pint to have a small nip; to be honest I didn't want it, it was a habit! I felt like crap. I tried a swallow anyway and gagged as I broke into a sweat again. I put the bottle back into my pocket and managed to fall asleep.

I awoke when John turned the lights on; everyone was gone. As I walked up the aisle with him, he turned to me and asked, "You don't look too good — you got a place to sleep tonight?"

I mumbled a faint, "Yes" and walked over to Gene's place. There was only one customer and Gene asked if I wanted a shot. I shook my head no and asked if it was okay if I went in to lie down.

On his nod, I went into the storeroom and collapsed on the cot. I realized later my body was totally worn out. It was a strange night. A vision of "little girl in the dirt," came to me but somehow different. She had a "Mona Lisa" smile on her face. Later the face was Annie's on the emaciated little girl body. By that time, I was half delirious.

The next morning, Sunday, the bar wasn't open, so I took my time shaving and taking a shower. I noticed Gene had left a stack of used clothes on the table in the storeroom. The clean clothes felt good on my body. I felt a little better but shaky. I made some coffee and emptied the pot sitting at the bar, a cup at a time, looking into the mirror.

I thought about pouring some of the bourbon into the coffee, but I wasn't sure I could drink it. I wasn't hungry at all. I felt ... apathetic. I went back and lay down on the cot. I woke to darkness outside. I felt like there were large rodents inside my body, gnawing away. Even the thought of drinking water made me dizzy. I staggered down the street to the Corral.

I had to stop every few doors. A cold wind had come up, and I didn't have a coat. I felt like my body was shutting down, as if it had independently decided it didn't want to live like this anymore. At that point, I wasn't going to argue with it.

I made it down to the Corral again. Leaning against the poster of Gene Autry, trying to catch my breath. I could hear music, horns playing softly in the distance. Was this it? Was this what it was like to die?

The music came closer; I could now hear singing, a song heard years ago:

Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,

With the cross of Jesus going on before.

I could see them coming, a band playing music, dressed in the uniforms Annie and Bill had been wearing. There were trombones, trumpets, baritones and a bass drum ... a tambourine clanging loudly, drawing the eyes of passersby. I could see Annie in the first row alongside a small dark haired girl, both playing alto horns. Behind the band was another group, dressed the same way but without instruments, as they marched past I could hear the singers, continuing:

Gates of hell can never 'gainst that church prevail;

We have Christ's own promise and that cannot fail.

I started walking on the sidewalk, following their progress. When they got to the corner of Broadway and Douglas, they pulled up in a semicircle facing the Kress Five and Dime, standing in the bus stop. They started playing Christmas carols and a crowd gathered round, watching the free entertainment.

I watched and listened, my body numb by this time, my mind floating free.

A man stepped forward, raising his hand slightly, as if asking for silence. He started talking:

"I was in the war to end all wars. I got caught up in the killing lust, and I got angry with God. I swore at him! Forgive me, I cussed him out. How could he do that to us?"

I heard him, almost as a memory. Something tugging at me.

"Friends, I was standing where you are a few years ago. I was angry at the world! My wife had left me, and I was angry with her! However, that night a man asked me to let go of my anger, to talk with God again. I fell down on my knees that night, and I did talk to God."

I felt something break within me, my body, my mind. I leaned forward, pushing through the crowd and fell to the ground. I rose up to my knees, crying, face awash with tears, not knowing who it was I called out to, man or God, "Help me! Oh, help me!" and with that the world suddenly turned dark and I faded away.

I heard noises, faintly, like I had earmuffs on. I opened my eyes, it was dark ... I closed them.

Later, the bright sunshine on my face woke me up. I could hear clearly. A nurse in uniform put her hand on my forehead and then a thermometer in my mouth. Taking it out a couple of minutes later, she smiled and put her hand on my cheek.

An Army Colonel walked in with a uniform on, a doctor from the insignia on his collar. "I'm Colonel Carnes but I prefer either Doctor, or Phil."

I tried to talk, throat dry, my voice hoarse.

"Here, have some water. You were under sedation."

Drinking some, I tried again. "What happened?"

"Well, Mister Hanson — may I call you Crane?" At my nod he continued. "Well, Crane, your body just quit. You collapsed in front of Kress and the ambulance took you to St. Francis. It was touch and go. It looked like your liver was going to quit; you came close to dying. Your body did start responding, and after you stabilized somewhat you were brought over here to the VA Hospital. All they had was your name but the guy from the Salvation Army thought you were a vet, and they checked with us.

"I'll talk to you some more later, but we want to keep you here for a few weeks. Your body chemistry is all messed up so I want you in the hospital for at least a week until you gain a little weight. You have lost over thirty pounds from when you were here a couple of years ago.

"Later, I want to move you to the physical therapy ward for about a month. I understand you don't have a place to live now, and it will give us a chance to help find you something. Also, you don't have to, but we have a group of guys, like you that went through terrible experiences during the war. They meet once a week for lunch and just talk to each other. Their experiences are such that a person that hasn't experienced that can't really understand."

"Okay. Can I have visitors?"

"Let's give it another day, and I'll see. Are you hungry?"

I had to think about it for a minute but realized that I was. "Please, I am hungry. Anything is okay."

The doctor laughed and said, "Well, not anything. Let's start with some Jell-O and maybe some soup a little later. After you eat the Jell-O you need to sleep some more."

Time passed. The nurse brought me some chicken soup. Tasted like it anyway, but I didn't want to question those little off-color, meaty things floating around — I might find out the answer! It was hot though, and made me sleepy again.

It was night, time for more blood tests. The glass of water tasted great.

Sunshine again, a new day. The doctor stopped by to tell me he had okayed visitors. "What about my kids, Doc?"

"I'd rather wait for anything emotional until next week, okay? Later today we need to talk about what happened to you and what's next."

Bill came in, with his Salvation Army uniform on.

"Bill, it's good to see you. I'm not sure whom to thank for what, but I'm sure you had a key part in it! Anyway, thanks!"

"That's okay, Crane. God put me in a position to help so I did. You are looking so much better now. I hate to say it, but you look like death warmed over, which is a huge improvement, by the way," the Major said with a chuckle. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah, Bill. Several things. I'd like to talk to that guy that was talking when I collapsed. I need to talk to someone who has gone through hell like I have."

"That one is easy. That was Ike Johnson. He got that moniker 'cause his head looks like Eisenhower's does, pretty thin up there! He's a great guy. If he can help in any way, it'll make him happy."

"Okay, Ike it is. Could you get hold of my wife and tell her what's happened? She probably won't want to see me, but I need to see the kids. I feel terrible about what I've done to my family. I wrote her address on a piece of paper on the nightstand. I don't know if she has a phone."

"Sure, Crane. The Corps Officer over there is a good friend of mine. We get together for dinner a couple of times a year. I'll give him a call and have him stop by and see her."

"I've been meaning to ask, I've seen that term, "Corps" and why do you always wear a uniform, anyway?"

"I'll talk to you more about when you are feeling better but the Salvation Army is basically just a church with a strong service and missionary focus. The organization and the uniform come from the founding of our church. Each separate church location is called a Corps, and I'm a Major in our little army," Bill said with a deprecatory laugh. "Was there anything else?"

"Yeah, could you get me some writing materials? I'd like to start writing some of my experiences. Somehow, I feel if I can put down what I saw and lived through, my mind might deal with it better. Moreover, I'm really lonely. The Doctor says I can have as many visitors as I want as long as they are not too emotional or stressful for me."

"Sure, Crane, I'll take care of both of those things for you.

Later the nurse came in and said, "Are you accepting lady callers?" with a twinkle in her eyes.

Not knowing whom it might be I just shrugged my shoulders.

A few minutes later Annie came bouncing in, dressed in a long black wool skirt and a white turtleneck sweater with a black beret perched on her head. She was holding a bouquet in her hands; it was made from holly and pine cones arranged around some poinsettias.

She looked like she had walked off the pages of a storybook as she asked, "How are you, Crane? You do look better!"

"I guess I'm okay. I feel like I wrestled a bear and lost! You look wonderful; where is your uniform?"