Read Online Lucky Bastard by Charles McCarry - Free Book Online

off-season Danny would go to Ohio State, too, to work on a graduate degree in communications. He wanted to be a sportscaster when his playing days were over.
    Then, a few days after they graduated, Danny was drafted into the army. It was the last thing they expected—Danny’s number wasn’t supposed to come up. But inexplicably, it did. He passed the preinduction physical and was ordered to report for induction in a month’s time.
    â€œI’ve got to see Jack,” he told Cindy.
    â€œWhy? Because he dodged the draft by starving himself down to a skeleton and you’re going in his place because your weight is normal?”
    â€œCindy, I’m not going in Jack’s place. It’s the luck of the draw.”
    â€œYeah? Well, don’t forget to frisk him for Vaseline.”
    Danny left almost immediately for New York.
    When he came back three days later, he called off the wedding. Cindy, controlling her anger, asked why. The church had been booked; they had bought the rings. Her parents had bought them a house in Columbus.
    â€œWhat if I’m killed?” Danny said. “What if I’m wounded and come home no damn good for anything? Do you think I’d stick you with that, Cindy?”
    â€œSimple,” Cindy said. “If you’re killed, I’ll live alone for the rest of my life. If you come home in a coma, I’ll sleep in the same room with you with the ball game on the radio. Anything less serious than that we can discuss when the time comes.”
    â€œYou say that now,” Danny said, “but I won’t do it to you, Cindy. And that’s final.”
    Because she was so much more intelligent than Danny, the emotion Cindy most often felt in his company, next to love and desire, was overwhelming exasperation.
    Quietly, taking her lover’s hand, she said, “Danny, listen. Whatever Jack Adams says—”
    â€œCindy, don’t start. Jack didn’t say anything.”
    Cindy retreated. “Okay, I’ll rephrase. Whatever is going on in your mind, you don’t have to go to Vietnam.”
    â€œOh, really? Where should I go, Canada?”
    â€œDanny, you’re a college graduate. You can get a commission. You’re a world-class athlete. The army is crazy about sports. All you have to do is tell them who you are. You can play on one of their teams. It will be a lot like going to college. I can delay law school for two or three years, whatever it takes, go with you. We can have a baby. By the time you get out, the kid will be big enough to go to nursery school while I go to law school.”
    Danny wouldn’t listen. At Kent State, he had been disgusted by the antiwar protests, by the politicized kids who thought that sports were some sort of Nazi military drill, who burned flags and their draft cards.
    â€œYou think I’d go into the army and play ball while other guys got shot at?” he asked. “You think I’d sneak out of a war? Jesus, Cindy! What do you think I am?”
    â€œI know what you are, Danny, and I love you for it,” Cindy replied. “But, God forgive me, at this moment I wish you were a little more like Jack.”
    A week later, Danny went off to basic training. Cindy had been right: It wasn’t so very different from football camp. He was an outstanding soldier. Cindy wrote him a letter a day, repeating her arguments. When he called collect every Sunday, she pleaded with him to tell his superiors about his athletic attainments. Danny refused to listen. He didn’t want any special consideration.
    Cindy knew that her last chance to save him from himself would come when he came home on furlough. Danny arrived at last—on embarkation leave. He had orders for Vietnam.
    Cindy and Danny passed the first ten days of his furlough in a daze of lovemaking and argument. Cindy had researched the facts. Danny could be commissioned. He could play ball. He could even go to Vietnam if he