Previously in the novella: Farmboy Harley Sadler became the star of a traveling tent show in West Texas during the early decades of the 20th Century. After fighting back from the Great Depression, Harley ran for the Legislature and ventured into wildcat oil drilling.
The next few years passed so quickly it was as though Harley were riding a merry-go-round. He hardly noticed he was becoming an old man with wrinkles so deep that makeup failed to hide them. His waistline, though slender compared to other men his age, was thickening. Harley, riding a happy charger, reached for the gold ring of wildcat oil drilling and snatched it the first few times out. He whooped and hugged Billie as they were sprinkled by oil drops from a gusher in the middle of the barren plains.
Gloria, in the meantime, matured into a young lady, educated and becoming less and less inclined to ride the carousel of tent shows which her parents seemed enjoyed so much. The calls from Hollywood offering screen tests from the major studios continued to be rejected.
All a legislator needed to push a bill through to become law was the endorsement of Harley Sadler. He beamed the day the governor signed the redistricting bill. Farrell McConnell, on the other hand, stood in a corner puffing a cigar and wearing a barely disguised scowl.
Harley was too old to enlist at the outbreak of World War II but he fought bravely to sell as many war bonds as he could. His bookkeeper Charlie shook his head when Harley announced free tickets to the show with proof of purchase of a bond. And when he was not on the road with the show he appeared at every bond rally and county fair in Toby attire and makeup to sell even more.
One night the cast took its bows. Harley played the old Southern gentleman and Billie his wife.
“And don’t forget!” he called out. “Buy those war bonds!”
Harley’s big grin faded a bit when Billie squeezed his hand. When he looked at her, he saw she was staring into the audience with grievous apprehension. Harley tried to follow her gaze until he realized Gloria was seated in the middle of the front section. Next to her was a young airman, quite dashing in his uniform.
“Who’s that young man?” he whispered to Billie.
“I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out.”
As the audience strolled out, Harley and Billie held hands as they approached Gloria and her gentleman. Both wore their best theatrical friendly smiles.
“Mama, Daddy,” Gloria began as enthusiastically as she would announce her plans for a sleepover with all her girlfriends. “I want you to meet Airman John Allen. He’s receiving his flight instruction at Stamford Army Air Corps Base. We’re moving there next week.”
“Nice to meet you, young man.” Harley shook his hand.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
“We?” Billie interjected, obviously picking up on the last sentence of Gloria’s announcement.
“We’re married, Mama,” she said brightly.
“What?!” Billie was on the verge of apoplexy.
“You must believe in love at first sight,” Harley intoned knowingly, eyeing his new son-in-law.
“Yes sir, I do,” he replied in relief.
“Call me Harley.” He looked at his wife as he put his arm around her. “Believe it or not, we did too. A long time ago.”
Billie took a few days to reconcile her past with the future, but eventually she joined in with assisting her daughter move into her new life as an airman’s wife.
John’s training had barely been completed when the war in Europe ended. When the Japanese surrendered, the newlyweds rejoiced that John would continue to be stationed in Stamford as he trained to be a flight instructor. Back in Sweetwater Harley and Billie hugged celebrating their good fortune.
Continued drilling did not bring the results Harley wanted. After initial success with a few gushers, costly water spouts began to drain his bank account. Like a committed poker player, Harley refused to fold, determined to ride out his spate of bad luck.
Relieving the stress of failing as a wildcatting speculator, Harley reveled in his influence in promoting legislation to help his constituents. He had no trouble finding his voice on the floor of the state house.
Gloria’s announcement she was pregnant seemed to signal a positive turn of luck for her parents. Billie’s insecurities bubbled to the surface often so she begged Gloria and John to move into the Sweetwater house. When the first pangs of labor began, they all moved as a well-rehearsed cast. John took the suitcase to the car. Harley with his arm around Gloria guided her out the front door.
“The pains, are they getting any closer?” he asked.
“How the same.” She grimaced then smiled. “What do you want? A boy or a girl?”
Harley was too worried to put on a good face. “I want you to be all right.”
She hugged him. “Do you worship and adore me?”
“I worship and adore you.” And he meant every word of it.
Billie bustled up behind them, waving her arms, the house keys in her hand. “I can’t find the house keys anywhere.”
“They’re in your hand, Mama.” Even though she was in labor and weary of her mother’s absent mindedness she spoke with love and patience.
John returned with the car, lovingly took Gloria in his arms to guide her down the front steps. Harley and Billie stared at each to her.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured her.
“I didn’t ask if they weren’t.”
He smiled weakly. “Maybe I was telling myself.”
“But everything is going to be all right, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” he said.
“If anything were to happen to her, I don’t know if I could stand it.”
They hurried to the car which John drove to the hospital. A nurse waited at the curb with a wheelchair. Harley and Billie helped Gloria out of the car, and he grabbed the suitcase before John drove to the parking area. For the next half hour everything was hectic, checking Gloria in and getting her settled in the hospital. Then the nurses directed them to the waiting room, where all was silence and moving into an eternity of anticipation and anxiety. Eventually Harley and John could not sit any longer and they had to stand and pace.
“It’s been so long.” Billie broke the long hush as she shifted in her seat on the worn sofa. “It reminds me of two years ago when Mama Lou died. They left us in the waiting room forever.”
“The doctor said it was just hard labor, that’s all,” John offered weakly.
Before Harley or Billie could respond, the doctor walked through the door. Billie gasped. Harley and John froze in their places.
“Mr. Allan, may I speak to you?” the doctor asked softly.
Harley instinctively followed John to the doctor. Tears began to well in Billie’s eyes. As the doctor whispered to them, John slumped against the wall. Harley slowly walked to the couch, sat and put his arm around his wife.
“Her little heart just stopped,” he spoke with difficulty. Each word was painful.
Billie cried, turning to bury her head in his shoulder.
“It’s my punishment,” he confessed. “I put her before God. I worshipped her to the point of idolatry.”