She
and Ty were two little humans among many, taking their place in the onward
march, taking their importance from unity with the rest.
Meantime, having passed his physical, Ty was being inducted by Major Howard.
"Raise your right had," said the Major who read the oath of allegiance.
"I do," said Ty. That's all there was to it, not
counting the thrill that chased itself up his spine.
Neither in Hollywood nor Washington had he mentioned the purpose of his trip.
But newspaper men are no dopes. As he came out at six, there were the newsreel
cameras and the whole damn works. He grinned at the sight of Tony Muto, Fox-Movietone
man. He could
see Tony, once this job was done, hightailing it to a phone booth. Their boss,
Darryl Zanuck, was in town. With the proper pride in his calling, Tony'd kill
himself to get there first with the news.
Ty got back to the hotel before Annabella. Each time she looked
at her watch, she'd decide, 'Not yet," afraid to go back and not find
him there. It was almost as if he'd returned from the wars to see him waiting,
hale, unscarred and smiling.
crucial moment . .
.
"Did you do it?"
"I did it."
And when that scene was finished, they went downstairs to drink a toast to
the Marines.
Later Tony called and Annabella heard Ty whooping over the phone. What he'd
foreseen had happened, but with a twist that Capra might have invented.
"What can I do for you?" Zanuck had asked.
"Nothing, chief. Thought you'd like to know that Ty
Power just enlisted in the Marines."
Pause, long enough for choking. Then: "That's all I
need to make my day complete. Henry Fonda enlisted in the Navy this morning."
It was all Ty needed. His spirits ran over. The joke was
irresistible. The James boys had done it again.
Back in Hollywood, he
made an important phone call. "Is this apprentice seaman Fonda? This
is marine private Power. Want to hear what your boss said?" Annabella
swears she could hear Hank's bellow. She thought it was funny too, but not
that funny.
Ty's on inactive duty until after the making of "Crash Dive," with
orders to report, once the picture's finished, to the commandant at San Diego.
Annabella's worked out her own formula -- one-step-at-a-time. She thinks only
of today. Today he is with her. When he goes to San Diego, she'll
think only of San Diego, where she can visit him, and he can come home on
leave. She'll face tomorrow tomorrow. Apropos of which, she said something
which seemed a clear reflection of her own lovely spirit. "We are
so close," she said quietly, "and Tyrone is so important to me --
if he would disappear, it is as if I would disappear myself. Well--you
don't go through life feeling sad because someday you must die."