Chapter Five. THE projection room was crowded as the first completed print of The War against the Innocents was run off

THE projection room was crowded as the first completed print of The War against the Innocents was run off. When the picture came to an end, the audience filed out silently and broke up into small groups in the corridor.

A selected audience had been invited to the preview of the picture. The country had been at war almost a week and interest in the picture was widespread. Representatives of the larger newspapers and press associations, government officials, and prominent distributors and theater men had been among those present.

Now they were crowding around Peter and Joe offering their congratulations. They felt that the picture would do a

great deal in telling the American public why the war had become necessary.

"An excellently made and brilliant piece of propaganda for our side," one of the guests told Peter. "You're to be con­gratulated for striking the Hun where it hurts."

Peter nodded his head. Something inside him had turned sick as he had watched the picture. Now as he heard the man's voice, he thought bitterly: "Congratulations I'm getting for making war against my own people and family." He couldn't speak, his heart was too heavy. He was glad when the last guest had gone and they could go up to Johnny's office, where it was comparatively quiet and he could sit down. Esther, Doris, Joe, and Johnny were there with him.

They didn't talk much—just looked at each other guiltily. There was a tension in the air that all seemed to feel, and each thought it was there for a different reason.

At last Peter spoke. "Have you got a little schnapps or something, Johnny?" he asked. "I feel a little tired."

Silently Johnny reached into his desk and took out a bottle and some paper cups. He poured some whisky into each cup and passed them around to Joe and Peter. He held his cup toward them. "To victory!" he said.

They swallowed their drinks.

The liquor loosened Joe's tongue. "I made the damn picture and vet, after seeing it, I feel like goin' out and enlisting myself."

Peter didn't answer. He picked up some papers from Johnny's desk and looked at them absently. They were exhibition contracts for the picture. He dropped them as if they burned his fingers. "Money I got to make from this yet," he thought.

Esther sensed how he was feeling. She walked over to him and stood there silently. He looked up at her gratefully; they understood each other.

Johnny's voice fell into the room like a shellburst. "What are you going to do about replacing me while I'm away?" he asked quietly. They looked at him startled. There was a smile on his lips, but none in his eyes.

Peter's accent was more pronounced. "Vat do you mean?"

Johnny looked at him. "Just what I said," he answered, "I'm going to enlist tomorrow."

"No!" an anguished cry came from Doris's lips.

Esther looked at her daughter. A feeling of chilled surprise ran through her. Doris's face had drained of color. It was white, almost ashen in hue. "I should have known," she reproached herself silently. Now the many things that Doris had said and done suddenly made sense. It had always been like that. She went to her daughter and took her hand. Doris's hand was trembling.

The men didn't even notice them. "By Jesus!" Joe swore, "I'm goin' with yuh!"

Peter looked from one to the other. "This day I had to live to believe," he thought. "To see these men whom I love go out to war against my brothers." He got to his feet. "Do you have to go?" he asked aloud.

Johnny looked at him strangely. "There isn't anything else I can do," he answered. "It's my country."

Peter saw the look on Johnny's face. A feeling of hurt flooded through him. "Does he doubt my loyalty?" he thought. He forced a smile to his face. "Go if you must," he said heavily, "and don't worry about us. Just be careful, we want you both back." He reached out his hand to Johnny.

Johnny took his hand across the desk. "I knew you'd understand."

The tears began to flood into Doris's eyes. A whisper from her mother stopped them. She could hear the whisper in her mind for a long time afterward.

"You should never cry in front of your man, liebe kind," her mother said understandingly.

Johnny looked down at his desk. The last paper had been signed, all his work had been cleaned up. He placed the pen back in its holder and looked over at Peter. "I guess that does it," he said. "Any more questions?"

Peter shook his head. "No, everything's straightened out."

Johnny stood up. "Sure," he said. "Besides if anything turns up that you're not familiar with, ask Jane. She runs the place anyway." He turned to Jane and smiled at her.

She smiled back at him. "We'll try to get along while you're gone, boss," she said teasingly.

He grinned. "Don't kid me, Janey. I know better. I'm one of the boys." He took out his watch and looked

at it. "Gosh," he said, "I'd better hurry. I promised to meet Joe at the recruiting station at three o'clock."

He walked over to the clothes tree and took his hat. He put it on and came back to Peter. He held out his hand. "So long, Peter," he said, "I'll see you after the party is over."

Peter gripped his hand silently. They held firmly for a few seconds, then parted.

Johnny walked over to Jane's desk. He reached over it and mussed her hair. "So long, baby."

She got up and kissed him quickly. "So long, boss," she said in a husky voice. "Be careful."

"Sure," he said. The door shut behind him.

Peter and Jane looked at each other after he had gone. "I—I think I'm going to cry," she said in a small voice.

He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose heavily. "Nu," he said, "go ahead. Who's stopping you?"

As Johnny stopped on the sidewalk in front of the office to light a cigarette, he heard a voice calling him. He looked up.

"Johnny! Johnny!" Doris was running toward him.

He waited for her to come up to him. "Why aren't you in school, sweetheart?" he asked sternly, but something in his heart had lightened when he saw her.

"I didn't go back yesterday," she said breathlessly. "I wanted to see you again before you went away. I'm glad I didn't miss you.

They stood there in the street looking at each other. Neither knew what to say.

Johnny broke the silence. "I'm glad you came, sweetheart."

"Are you, Johnny?" she asked, her eyes shining.

"Very glad," he said.

They fell silent again. This time it was Doris that broke the silence. "Will you write me, Johnny, if I write you?"

"Sure," he said. And again the silence. Awkward. Embarrassing. Their eyes doing much more talking than their lips.

He took out his watch and looked at it. "I'm late," he said unnecessarily, "I've got to get going."

"Yes, Johnny." She looked down at the ground, her face lowered.

He put a hand under her chin and turned her face up to him. "Be a good girl," he said, trying to joke, "and wait for me. Maybe when I come back, I'll bring you something nice."

There were tears in the corners of her eyes. "I'll wait for you, Johnny, even if it's forever."

He felt embarrassed at the intensity in her voice. Red began to creep over his neck and into his face as he flushed. "Sure, sweetheart," he said, still trying awkwardly to joke. "Do that an' I'll bring you a present."

"You don't have to bring me anything, Johnny. Just come back the way you are now. That's all I want."

"What can happen to me?" He laughed.