For the next two years she pursued him shamelessly, not giving up until he popped the question. Lest something jinx it, Velta saw to it that they were married within a week of his proposal.
Unfortunately, there were no North Korean Communists in Palmetto. Years after his triumphant return home, Ronald was still at a loss as to what to do with the rest of his life. He had no grandiose ambitions. Though he was dashingly handsome, he had no desire to capitalize on the Medal of Honor the way Audie Murphy had. He didn’t aspire to movie stardom.
Orphaned and penniless, he had joined the army only so he would have a place to sleep and food to eat. He had been an ideal soldier because there was always somebody telling him what to do and when to do it. His officers had ordered him to shoot straight and kill the gook commies and, because he was an excellent marksman, that’s what he had done. On the afternoon that he wiped out twenty-two Koreans, it never occurred to him that his actions would merit a medal.
He was popular with people. He had a charisma and magnetism that folks just naturally gravitated to. Everybody liked Ron Sperry. However, hanging out with the guys and telling amusing stories in the pool hall didn’t produce revenue. He drifted from one meaningless, futureless job to another.
With each one he began, Velta’s spirits rose. This would be the one that catapulted them to riches. The Medal of Honor gave them instant respectability, but never the riches and social acceptance Velta craved. Even a Medal of Honor didn’t establish you with Southern society if you had no distinguished grandfather and lots of family money to go with it.
Velta had ranked fourth in a family of nine children. Her father had been a sharecropper until he dropped dead behind a plow mule, leaving destitute her mother and all the offspring who weren’t already married. The family had to rely on the charity of oth
ers for food and shelter.
More than poverty and hunger, Velta feared scorn.
When the laurel wreath around Ron’s head began to wilt, she surmised that people were laughing behind their backs. She berated him for squandering their one chance for fame and fortune. She threatened him and cajoled him, but he simply lacked the initiative to work for a living. She refused to let him reenlist in the army. That would be too demeaning, an admission of defeat, she had told him.
At her wits’ end, she had already made up her mind to leave him when she got pregnant with Jade after six years of barrenness. Velta had then clung to the hope that a baby would prod her husband into doing something worthy of his previous success as a soldier. But after Jade’s arrival it was Velta who had gone to work in Ivan Patchett’s factory.
The last ten years of Ron’s life had been studded with jobs acquired and jobs lost, big dreams that never came to fruition, promises that were diluted by ever-increasing amounts of liquor.
One day when Jade was at school and Velta was at work, he died while cleaning his rifle. Mercifully, Sheriff Jolly had ruled his death accidental. The local VFW had donated the money for Velta and Jade to travel to Arlington National Cemetery to give Ronald Sperry a hero’s burial.
Looking at his photograph now, Velta didn’t feel a whit of yearning for him. Ron had been handsome and sweet and ardent till the day he died, but what good had he done her?
Jade, on the other hand, missed him to this day. Velta resented the girl’s fond attachment to his memory, just as she had been jealous of their mutual, blind admiration while he was alive.
He had often pulled Jade into his lap and said to her, “You’ll do all right, little doll. You’ve got my looks and your mama’s backbone. Don’t ever be afraid and you’ll do all right.”
Jade was going to do better than all right. If Velta had anything to do with it, Jade was going to make a better marriage than she had.
“Neal Patchett called a while ago,” she said, smiling for the first time since Jade had come in. “He’s a charmer, that one.”
“He’s slime.”
Velta was taken aback by Jade’s vehemence. “That’s an ugly thing to say.”
“Neal is ugly.”
“Ugly? Why, half the girls in the high school would give their right arms to have him calling them.”
“Then half the girls can have him.”
“I’m sure it’s not too late for you to return his call.”
Jade shook her head. “I’ve got to read a chapter in history before tomorrow.”
“Jade,” Velta called peremptorily when Jade headed for her bedroom. “It’s rude not to return a telephone call, especially from someone like Neal.”
“I don’t want to talk to Neal, Mama.”
“You spend hours on the phone with that Parker boy.”
Jade rolled her lips inward and held them for several seconds before saying, “I’ve got to study. Good night.”
Velta switched off the TV and followed Jade into her bedroom, catching the door before it closed. “You spend too much time studying. It’s unnatural.”
Jade removed her skirt and sweater and conscientiously hung them in her narrow closet. “I have to keep my grade point up if I want to get a scholarship.”