Russo moved close to him, a hard stare. “Listen to me. You got nothing more than me. You got no more shot at college than I do. Look around you. Banks and insurance companies, drug stores and doctors’ offices. You and me, we could go in there and maybe sweep their floors, empty their trash baskets. Except there’s a dozen guys lined up for that job too. Dammit, Tommy, you’re a hard worker, and you got guts. Except maybe right now. Just talk to the navy guy. It costs you nothing, and there’s nothing to be scared of. They don’t hog-tie people and haul ’em off in the back of wagons anymore.”
“When did the navy ever do that?”
Russo thought a moment. “Well, not our navy, but somebody did it, somewhere. Let’s go.”
They moved up the shallow steps into the post office, the American flag high overhead, spread wide by the breeze. Russo led the way, Biggs’s hands sweating, and he saw the recruiter now, white uniform, seated behind a narrow table. The sailor saw them coming, seemed to read them both, a broad smile, recognizing Russo.
“Mr. Russo, Raphaele, right?”
“Just Ray’s okay, sir. I brought my buddy, thought he’d want to hear what you had to say.”
The sailor stood, tall, gray hair at the temples. He held his hand out toward Biggs, kept the smile. “Chief Petty Officer Harvey Goodman. At your service, young man.”
Biggs felt a strong handshake.
“Thomas Biggs, sir.”
Goodman sat down again, motioned to the lone chair in front of him. Biggs sat slowly, still nervous, and Goodman said, “High school diploma, Mr. Biggs?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. It’s not required, certainly. Most of our younger recruits didn’t get that far, but having the diploma can open some doors for you. For one thing, the navy hopes that all of its recruits can read. That always helps. I’m guessing that you’re here because Mr. Russo has told you of all the advantages of a life at sea.”
“Well, I suppose so, sir. He told me he’s going to get twenty-one dollars a month.”
Goodman laughed. “That’s the least of it, Mr. Biggs. Yes, you’ll get twenty-one dollars per month, which will increase if you’re promoted, or if you qualify for one of the many specialties needed on every vessel. The longer you stay in the service, the greater your chance of that.” He held up his left arm, several stripes on the sleeve of his jacket. “Twenty years, son. That’s what these stripes mean. And this patch on my arm? My rating. As I said, chief petty officer. Let’s just say that I make a good bit more than twenty-one dollars per month.”
The smile on Goodman’s face invited a laugh, and Russo went along, a low chuckle. Biggs felt himself relaxing and Goodman said, “I’ve got plenty of literature for you to read, son, and I’m here to answer any questions. Don’t be bashful.”
Biggs looked down for a second, hesitated, then said, “Does the army pay any more?”
Goodman laughed again. “That’s a good question, son. Let me answer it like this. You live in Florida, so I’ll ask you…are you familiar with mosquitoes? Mud? Snakes? Maybe a scorpion or two? Ever sleep out on the ground, where ticks and redbugs bite you so bad you scratch for a week? Had poison ivy?”
Goodman waited for a response, and Biggs knew exactly where this was going.
“Suppose I have, sir. Most of it.”
“Let me ask you this. You ever eat powdered eggs, powdered milk, plucked vermin out of your clothes, bugs in your water glass, chewed sand in your oatmeal? You ever march for miles through mud and sandspurs, maybe a swamp or two? Well, son, all of that, that’s life in the army. Now, let me ask you this. You ever dream of seeing foreign lands, exotic islands, places more beautiful than you’ve ever known?” He didn’t wait for the answer. “That’s the navy, son. And there’s more. You get free room and board, and when you’re at sea, you’ll be on the most modern and strongest ships in the entire world. You’ll be given the best food Uncle Sam can provide, no sand in any of it. Hot meals, hot showers.” Goodman paused. “You’ll have the opportunity to train for a whole variety of specialties, from mechanics to electronics, plus working with the most powerful artillery the world has ever seen. You love your country, son?”
“Of course…yes, sir.”
“There’s a nasty fellow over there in Germany. He’s already whipped the French, the Dutch, and a whole bunch of other good folks. Smart people in Washington are saying he’s eventually gonna try to whip us. We’ve got the ships, the guns, and now we need good men, strong men. That sound like you, son?”
Biggs felt energized, sat up straight, glanced at Russo, who was nodding with a big toothy grin.
“I believe so, sir. But I don’t know what to do.”
“You eighteen?”
“Nineteen, sir.”
“Can you prove it?”
The question was unexpected.
“Well, yes, sir. Birth certificate in a box in my mom’s closet.”
“Bring it to me, son. I’ve got papers right here, just like what Mr. Russo signed. When you enlist, the clock starts ticking on that pay. You’ll do six weeks of basic training first, up in Great Lakes, Illinois. You’ll go through all sorts of tests, physical and mental. The navy will help you find out just what you need to be doing, and just where you’ll do it.”
Russo punched him on the shoulder. “You might even get to serve on a battleship! That’s what I’m hoping for.”
Goodman tried to defuse Russo’s enthusiasm. “Well, that’s possible, certainly. But there are a great many other ships, all types, all sizes, and all of them important.” He stood, held his hand out. “I’m happy to talk to you more, son. I’ll be here at this location for three more days. You need to bring me that birth certificate. Then I’ll take care of the rest.”
Biggs stood, took the man’s hand, a hearty shake. The smile was there again, and Biggs felt a wave of excitement, nothing like he had expected.
“I’ll do what I can to get back here tomorrow, sir.”
He led Russo down the steps toward the street, a congestion of traffic, a rush of people on the sidewalk. He remembered now all the reasons why he so rarely came into the heart of Jacksonville, could hear and smell it now. They moved toward the bus station, slow going, women in dresses, men in suits, all moving by, a mad rush to someplace Biggs never wanted to be. He pulled Russo out of the flow, a small square of green space, trees wrapped in colored lights.
“You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”