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"We want to stay put so the kids can have some stability during high school," Mrs. Within a month after Luke's high school graduation, he had enlisted in the Air Force and was stationed in California. They were Air Force brats who lived everywhere from Guam to Georgia, and many points in between. The daughter: Enola Gay, a girl named after the plane that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. Three bedrooms, one-and-three-quarter baths, and a kidney-shaped built-in pool with a diving board at the deep end. The Martins had moved next door four years earlier. The untucked shirt and blood on his pants pocket hinted at what he was dealing with. She touched the cubes gingerly to her cheek and said, "Thanks, Will," and lightly touched my hand.ĭad ran back and yelled, "The phone's ripped from their wall! Call 9-1-1!" He sprinted back to help my mom. The imprinted mark glowed on her face, so I popped some cubes out of an ice cube tray and wrapped them in a washcloth. I helped Enola Gay off the floor and got her a glass of water and a tissue. An abnormal heartbeat kept him out of flight school so he was shunted into logistics when he showed an aptitude for keeping the PX well-stocked and the base's two thousand toilets supplied with paper. When his wife, Pat, was over at our house drinking tea one winter afternoon, she let on her husband was frustrated because he wanted to be a jet pilot. Nobody knew what drove Lieutenant Martin to beat his family but this wasn't the first time. He kept the base organized while his home life unraveled in alcohol and anger.
That fucker was her father: Lieutenant Paul Martin, officer at nearby McGuire Air Force Base. She fell to the floor sobbing in our entry as my parents dashed to the light green ranch house adjacent to ours. That fucker was drinking again and hit her." Her father's crimson hand print splayed across her face. We rushed to the door and Enola Gay was breathing hard and could barely speak. "Don't you ever come back, asshole!" Tires screeched, followed by a pounding on our door so hard I thought the jamb would splinter. A door slammed and the Martin's Ford LTD roared down their driveway. It was a hot night in late May, and we sat on the sofa watching All in the Family when the shouting started next door.