Dart is minutes away from leaving for a second day of liberty in San Diego. Yesterday it took him just a couple of hours to complete his tasks so he could visit Ira Cotton, a buddy of his from the Haggard.
Last evening, he, Ira and Jo (a girl who lives at Ira’s parents’ house) went out to find some fun. They tried bowling but found there was a two-hour wait for a lane. Then they went to a local amusement park called Mission Beach and killed a few hours on rides and games. When the roller skating rink opened, the others convinced Dart to give it a try, so the three of them skated for a couple of hours. This morning, Dart is stiff and sore.
After skating, they feasted on salt-water taffy and french fries before going to a cheap restaurant for cheeseburgers and milkshakes. Finally, they headed downtown to see a couple of films called “A Close Call for Boston Blackie” and “Tars and Spars.” Dart finds himself becoming more enamored with dumb detective pictures, so he liked “Boston Blackie.” “Tars and Spars” was a pretty decent musical. (I’m guessing we couldn’t find either one on Netflix these days.)
He spent the night at Ira’s and will probably go back there tonight. He remarks that people seem so nice, wherever he meets them, but he sure thinks more of his friends should live in Ohio. It’s a little sad to think of all the connections he made in the Navy that he lost track of as soon as he was out. Only Hal Martin remained a friend through life – mostly because of the Lake Sunapee connection.
Dart writes that he doesn’t much care for California. There are big neon signs advertising all sorts of things plastered all over the hillsides. The building are not so much architecture as “design,” and the whole state seems to have the same streak of exhibitionism as Hollywood. The dress is flashy, yet too casual for Dart’s taste, and everyone he meets seems to be overly friendly, but shallow. (Except his friend Ira.)
He encloses some snapshots he and Ira had taken. Then he realizes he’s written three pages without mentioning the delightful phone call yesterday. Even though the phone had a strange hum in it when Dot’s voice hit a certain tone, he understood most of what she said. He wonders how Janie was able to get word to her so quickly. Won’t he get a kick out of the explanation she wrote in yesterday’s letter! “You laughed real live laughter, too. That was nice. Do it again for me sometime?”
“As I skated last night, I thought how nice it would be if you were there, too. I think it’ll be lots of fun to be able to do so much together. What’s the difference if we’re not too good at it, as long as we enjoy ourselves? ”
He writes his favorite sentence, “I love you” ten times. Then he wraps it up with, “In fact, I love you very much, all the time!”
# # #
Dot begins her letter on the evening of the 3rd, but is interrupted when Miss Olin asks her a favor. You see, Miss Olin’s brother Holly, who is the owner of this big house Dot lives in, has been very ill. Miss Olin is frightened that he’s getting worse, and she asked Dot if she would mind praying for him this evening. Miss Olin, you’ll recall, believes that Dot has a charmed life, and apparently, a direct line to the Almighty. Dot was flattered, but nervous because she’s never done anything like this before. She asked three other girls to join her – girls she thought would understand the request and take it seriously. They met in the parlor, read some Bible verses, and prayed for Holly’s recovery.
Now Dot’s beginning to believe in miracles because Holly was feeling much better this morning. He’s weak, but out of bed for the first time in days. Now he’s asking Dot to come downstairs and help move a piano. It’s just a small spinet that arrived today, but she was able to roll it from the hall to the parlor. “Don’t tell me that course with Charles Atlas doesn’t do any good!”
How grateful she is for her faithful fiance’ who came through again today with five letters! And she does exactly what I predicted several days ago: she really lets him have it about his complaint that his letters were boring and not much good. She goes on for a page or so about how good and interesting his letters are. “Dart, your letters are the furthest thing from boring. They never were, and I shall waste no time worrying that they ever will be. I love them because they are you and what you think and feel. They are so much like you that every time I read them I can almost hear you saying the words. You’ll be the best writer that ever held a pen if you make up your mind to be and don’t forget it.”
After declaring that she must study English and write to her family, she says, “Keep those masterful letters coming, Darling. They’re number 1 on my “Literature for a Lifetime” list, and the author is positively out of this world! You great big, gorgeous hunk of man, you!”