Patricia

John pulled his new 1939 Ford Roadster over to the side of the road, wondering how he could have gotten a flat tire so early in his trip to Los Angeles. He took off his suit coat, removed his Colt 45 from its shoulder holster, and walked to the back of the car to get the jack and spare tire. A half hour later he had switched tires, cleaned his hands from the road dirt, and got back into the card to find a place to stay the night.

As luck would have it, a sign advertising rooms to rent was just ahead and he liked the look of the house so he decided to stop and inquire about staying the night.

A pleasant looking woman answered the door and invited him in, offering him some ice tea to take the heat of the day off. John felt his luck was changing and sat on the old but well maintained sofa that overlooked the street below.

"So, five dollars a week," he said. "Does that include meals or just the room?"

"If you want to eat, that would be an extra fifty cents a day. Is that all right?"

John thought he was the luckiest man in the city. He could easily afford that the lady, Patricia by name, was asking, and he figured the house was only a few miles from the FBI headquarters in downtown Los Angeles.

"Here," he said, opening his wallet and giving her fifty dollars, knowing full well that the depression had hurt everyone deeply.

"But..."

"But, nothing," he replied as he closed her fingers around the money.

Her eyes opened wide as she saw the gun in his opened coat and began to wonder what or who John really was.

John immediately understood her hesitation and he pulled out his FBI identification and showed it to her. "I'm sorry, I should have explained that I am a supervisory agent for the FBI and I've just arrived from Amarillo. I have to report in later this week so I have time to get settled."

Patricia gave a visible sigh of relief as she realized that John was, at least for the time being, the answer to all her financial problems.

"I know you weren't expecting me so let me take you to dinner and you can show me around the neighborhood."

Not taking no for an answer, he gently took her arm and led her to the front door where she put on a light sweater.

Walking to the car, he realized that it was still dusty from its long trip across the desert but there was nothing he could do about it now.

"Sorry about the dust," he explained, "it was windy crossing the desert from Amarillo. I just bought the car in Chicago, hoping it wouldn't break down crossing the country. Route 66 is a long way to go. I probably should have taken the train but then I wouldn't have met you."

Patricia looked at him, red in the face, as he mentioned meeting her by chance.

"Do you know Musso and Frank? I hear its a pretty good place to eat."

"I've never been there, but I hear its a nice place."

"Well... good, then. You want to get the AAA map from the glove box? We can find Hollywood Boulevard and go from there... I can ask at a filling station when we get to Hollywood."

*****

"Would you like the Prime Rib? I've heard about it even in Chicago... there's also Filet Mignon."

"What ever you wish is alright with me. I've never been here."

"You said your name was Foster."

"Yes, my husband was killed in the Great War and I've never met anyone else so..."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I was in the Third Aero Squadron in the Philippines. I flew pursuit planes."

John didn't want to continue the conversation, not knowing how it would affect the woman. Their entrees were served. "Would you like some wine with your meal?"

"No, thank you. I don't drink. I saw what happened to my father."

*****

They had flannel cakes with whipping cream for desert along with ice tea. John escorted Patricia out to the parking lot and helped her sit in the car. It was getting toward late afternoon so he put the top up on the convertible. He had asked the waiter where Boyle was and decided to go there now to find the FBI headquarters.

A little over a half hour later he pulled up in front of the FBI building on Boyle and parked the car in the lot behind and helped Patricia to the walk. They walked into the lobby and met the security guard. John showed his identification and the three of them went up the stairs to the second floor where the offices were located.

"This is Agent Silver," said the guard to the receptionist who now stood up and shook his hand.

"We've been expecting you," she replied. "Did you have a pleasant trip? Fly from Chicago?"

"No, I drove the whole way. My manners... this is Patricia Foster, my friend. Can you show us to the Assistant Director, please?"

Minutes later the three of them were entering Assistant Director Smith's office. The receptionist excused herself as the two men shook hands and then they all sat down.

"I've taken the liberty of getting your office set up for you. You'll have your own secretary, of course, and there will be a meeting of all the senior agents tomorrow afternoon, if that's all right with you?"

On the wall was a large map of the Los Angeles area and Smith pointed out the location of FBI headquarters as well as locations of interest... "and here is Union Station that's being built and should be finished by this year or so.

"The easiest way to get around is by car or Pacific Electric. I'll assign an agent to go with you for a while until you're comfortable with the city on your own."

John easily found Route 66 and followed it to Santa Monica where it ended at the pier. "I'd like to see the ocean," he said excitedly. "Just saw the lake, that was all."

He tapped the map with his forefinger. "The Pacific Ocean. Wow!"

*****

They drove home back to her house in North Hollywood. "You don't have a car, do you?"

"No, when school starts again I'll walk to the streetcar and get to work that way. I will teach fifth grade at St. Charles here in town."

"I'm going to get you a car so that when the weather changes you're not out in it. Is that OK?"

"No, you shouldn't be doing that. A car is expensive and we really just met."

"No, but I'm going to be depending on you a lot, if you'll let me and... well, I like you."

"Well... I'm still not..."

"Come on, let's look at some cars. I was thinking of maybe a '35 Ford."

*****

They settled on a blue 1935 Ford Roadster with low mileage. John paid cash for the car and arranged to have it driven to her house in North Hollywood the following day when he was at headquarters. Patricia was so excited she jumped up and kissed him, squealing in delight.

Leaving the dealer, they drove to Santa Monica to see the ocean, finally taking Pacific Coast highway north past Malibu. He wanted the day to last forever with her, realizing he was falling in love with the sweet widow that was his landlady.

Patricia, on the other hand, had gone nearly 20 years without male companionship and was unsure on what to do. It seemed like forever and she wondered if he was expecting anything for his generosity. She hoped not for she was really beginning to like him and didn't want to spoil their relationship with a deep misunderstanding. It was dark by the time the two returned to her home in North Hollywood and she made them roast beef sandwiches for dinner, too tired to fix anything more complicated. They listened to the Jack Benny and Fibber McGee and Molly on the living room radio, she on the sofa and he on the single chair by the fireplace. It still was warm and the fireplace remained unlit.

The next morning she fixed him a lunch using the lunchbox that had once belonged to her husband. She put in two apples and a small bottle of Coca Cola to round out the roast beef sandwiches that had been left from the night before. She hoped he didn't mind having the same thing two days in a row.

*****

"We're expecting the war to break out any day now. The Germans have built up troops along the Polish border. So, Baumann and Gottlieb, you're assigned the German consulate. Vozza and Origlieri, the Italian; constant surveillance. It's going to happen, sooner or later."

John laid out what he wanted, expected. He had read their backgrounds and felt he made a good choice. He had no one to watch the Japanese consulate. He didn't trust them and felt they would be the one attacking the United States.

Two weeks later the German Army invaded Poland and Poland collapsed. Shortly thereafter France fell and the German Luftwaffe took on the English air force. Since America was neutral in the conflict, the various consulates stayed open and continued to be watched by the Los Angeles FBI. The Germans ranged south to San Diego where they were seen photographing Navy ships and submarines.

"This isn't right," said Baumann to Gottlieb who had been joined by Bauer now that the European war was in full swing.

John came home later and later as the war progressed and rumors of concentration camps and executions of Jewish people reached the United States intelligence agencies.

"How was your day?" Patricia asked. Her day had ended at three o'clock and with the car he had given her, she was home no later that three thirty.

"We're watching..." and then he was quiet, unsure if he should say something but felt the need to talk to someone that wasn't connected with the investigation. "We're watching the Germans closely. They are going south to San Diego where the Navy is headquartered and we don't like that, not at all."

The draft had been put into place and the number of sailors had greatly increased because of it. There had been several riots between sailors and zoot suiters. Tensions were high and the small number of agents available was inadequate.

Each evening, John and Patricia discussed what had taken place during the day and John found himself falling in love with the woman, especially attracted by what he considered a fine mind and a sharp sense of humor and wit.

Later one evening, they went to dinner at the Tam O'Shanter in Los Feliz where he was able to get a reservation by showing his FBI credentials and ordered the prime rib for the two of them. The restaurant was quiet, being mostly empty and after their food was served, John took her hand in his and holding it carefully, he pulled out an engagement ring from his pocket. "Patricia, I have fallen in love with you and your quick wit. Will you marry me?"

While she was surprised, she had hoped that he felt that way and was amazed at the size of the diamond and could only gasp at what it must have cost. John had never mentioned where his money had come from, sure that the government did not pay that much.

"Yes, John, I would love to marry you but how can you afford all this... first your generosity and then my car and now this ring..."

"My family owns oil, in Texas."

"And yet, you are here, being the FBI chief for the west coast."

"Patricia, I love you and I hope that you love me as much and I would like you to be my wife."

She put her hands over her mouth. He could see that she was thinking... at least he thought she was thinking but only she knew that she had made up her mind weeks before. "Yes, John, I would love to marry you, with all my heart."

He wanted to have champagne but remembered she didn't drink but strangely enough a bottle appeared along with two flutes and she raised a glass in celebration. "Here's to us.

Evening came and they saw in the living room holding hands, kissing over and over, the passion getting hotter by the moment until they realized it was late and time for bed.

*****

That Saturday they went to the Union Air Terminal in Burbank to watch the planes take off. John still didn't trust anyone else being the pilot and he was glad that he had driven from Chicago along Route 66. John knew war was coming and expected Lockheed to lead the way in aircraft production.

"Tell me the truth," she said. "We didn't go there to see the planes takeoff, you were photographing people coming off them. Who was it? You were interested in the plane from Seattle, weren't you?"

"You're right, it was the Germans coming from the Boeing factory, spying. Alright?"

On Sunday they took Wrigley's Great White Steamer to Catalina and spent the day visiting Avalon, catching the last return late at night. She was asleep while he took US 6 north to Route 66 back to North Hollywood.

He scooped her up and carried her to the back door and set her down while he unlocked the door. "C'mon, sweetheart, time for bed."

*****

Monday morning came soon enough for both of them, he headed to his office and she to her new school where she would eventually meet her fifth grade students. It wasn't every day that a fresh moment would greet everyone.

She found the principal who gave her a set of keys and showed her the supply room where she found chalk, pens and rulers. Patricia walked to her room and opened both doors and all the windows. The blackboard was ready and she didn't have to wash it down, for that she was glad.

Opening her teacher's manuals, she began to layout the first month's lessons using the typewriter in the faculty lounge. Several hours later she had completed the task for all seven subjects, glad that was done. She visited the main office before leaving to make sure no one wanted her and then walked out to her car, her car that John had given her.

That evening, she fixed roast pork for the two of them, anxious to share what she had done and to hear what he had done.

The next day they went to work. She was so excited to start school.

John waited for her to come home. His romantic streak wanted to take her to dinner. She didn't arrive.

He called the school and found out that she had left at 4 in the afternoon. "Are you sure?" he asked, starting to worry. It wasn't like her to just drive around, especially now that school was to start.

Then the phone rang and it was the German consulate downtown, threatening to kill her if he continued to investigate their activities. "Herr Silver, do you understand me? We will kill your woman if you don't back off."

It only made him angry and he immediately drove to his office and called in his team. Explaining what he wanted to do, they all agreed to help, even though it meant attacking a foreign installation.

That night, they climbed the fence surrounding the consulate, armed with Springfield rifles. Kicking in the front door, they quickly shot the first two people they encountered, giving no warning. Going up the stairs, they kicked in each door they found, shooting everyone they met. On the third floor they found her, tied up and gagged and carefully brought her down to the first floor, watching for resistance from the Germans. Peter went into the kitchen and turned on the gas leaving it as a surprise for the Nazis.

John put dynamite on the front gate and blew it off its hinges. They ran down the street to their waiting cars, not wanting to meet any police.

Regrouping at headquarters, they all agreed that nothing would go down on paper; it never happened.

John took her to the hospital for a checkup and got a psychologist to speak with her, sure that the events of the day were enough for anyone to need help. Later in the day, a tremendous explosion shook the area as the German consulate was leveled by the gas left on.

*****

John held her in his arms as they sat on the sofa. He was going to turn on the radio and decided against it, unsure if she wanted quiet or not. Soon she was asleep and he kept her there. The next morning found the two of them still on the sofa.

Back at headquarters the group waited to hear on the news if there was any information on the evening's adventure but there was nothing besides saying there was a fire. "Damn bastards," said Peter, laughing to himself in the silence of his office. He wondered if John was going to come in or stay with Patty, as she was known to the group.

There was a knock on his door and as he looked up he saw Patty and John standing there, motioning him to the next office.

"Patty's going to be with us for a while. She's going to stay with Suzy and help with filing. Any questions?"

"No, sir, none at all. Makes sense to me."

Patricia had arranged to start school a week or so later. The principal knew most of what had happened and was in full agreement to protect her.

Later that afternoon, John and Patricia went to the rectory. John wanted to speak to a priest about what happened and had made an appointment to speak with Father Toby.

The two men shook hands and although Patricia was going to leave the room, John held her hand and sat her down in the remaining chair.

"Thank you for seeing me, Father. I have something that's been bothering me and need some help in sorting it out."

"I trust this is about what happened to Patricia, here. I'm listening."

John described the events of the day, leaving nothing out, including his execution of the Germans that he came across and the burning of the building.

"Were these the people that kidnapped Patricia?"

"Yes, Father, they were."

"These were the godless Nazis, right? And they threatened to kill Patricia, right? I don't see a problem with it. It's too bad but there you go. God only knows what they're doing to the Jews over there."

John was surprised that the priest was so knowledgeable about what was happening in Europe and it was probably the Church's own spy network.

John stood up and shook the priest's hand, He reached out and lifted Patricia from her chair and left the room.

*****

Days went by... Patricia still had not returned to school and was getting nervous about it... wondering when John was going to let her go back. He sat there in his office, idly reading an Action comic featuring Superman, a new hero, when Peter walked into the room.

John drove by the ruins of the consulate and smiled. 'Screw those guys,' he thought. It was about time she went back to school. He decided to talk to her about it that evening.

*****

"Welcome back," greeted Sister Dorothy, the principal. "We've been hoping you'd come back. What you must have to say."

"Thank you," Patricia replied, "it's been... just something."

"Let me introduce you to your class." The elderly nun walked Patricia down the long hallway to her new classroom where the school secretary was playing a game of "7UP" with them. As they walked in, all the students stood at polite attention.

"Class, this is Miss Patricia Foster, your new teacher for this year. Treat her nice and she will be nice to you."

"You may sit down." Patricia looked at the seating chart and said 'goodby' to the nun and secretary. She sat down and then addressed the class to introduce themselves and say where they lived. A half-hour later everyone had finished and Patricia instructed them to open their math books, starting the day's lesson. It was the beginning of a new life.

*****

The Monday before Christmas, John got permission to take all the older students to see "The Wizard of Oz" at the local theater. For the students it was the highlight of the year.

The engaged couple planned on a Christmas wedding, December 23, Saturday, with Father Toby celebrating Mass. The reception was held in the school auditorium and was filled with more than 200 people.

The wedded couple had their first dance together as married man and wife and then cut the cake for everyone. Many of the attendees were children from her class, making a strange mix with the hard-cut FBI agents that made up the rest of the celebrants.

The next morning they left for San Diego, spending a week there enjoying Balboa Park, with its zoo, the beaches and planning on returning on the train. Each afternoon they returned to the Coronado hotel to spend time on the beach. John was glad he had the money from oil that allowed him to celebrate with his lover. They would walk hand in hand along the beach when not swimming, watching the sunset in the west.