[legendsport]

December 7, 1941: Cincinnati, OH:

"Rufus, we're going to miss the train!" Alice Barrell shouted at the bathroom door. "Tommy is probably already waiting for us!"

"I'll be out in a minute!" she heard her husband shout back.

"I swear you're worse than any woman I've ever known!" Alice replied. She was always amazed at how close Rufus cut things like getting to the train station on time given that he had traveled extensively for decades. The joy of seeing most of her large family together in one place was almost, not quite, but almost not worth the stress of traveling with her husband. "Mr. Last-Minute, same as always," she muttered.

A moment later Rufus, looking ashamed, bustled out and grabbed his hat. "Let's go, I'm ready!" he said. Alice shook her head and grumbled something Rufus didn't hear, then grabbed her bag.

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A similar scene was playing out in a room just down the hall where Bobby was impatiently waiting for his wife.

"Annette? Get a move on, Harry has a cab waiting for us," he told the closed bathroom door.

At his feet, his 19-month-old son Ralph was playing with a toy car.

The door opened and Annette's head appeared in the gap. "One cab won't hold all of us, Bob," she said. "Two couples and two kids. You guys aren't single any longer."

Bobby shook his head. "I'm aware of that, which is why Harry's holding two cabs. One for us, and one for them," he replied with a wry look. "So get a move on."

"Fine," she shot back and closed the door. Bobby looked at his watch and sighed.

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In the small downtown apartment he normally shared with his sister, Deuce Barrell was reading a note sent to him by Dorothy Bates the night before. He'd read it about fifty times already.

"Dearest, Rufus," it began, "You're a sweet kid and you remind me of your father so much it breaks my heart. But you're far too young for me. If you're ever in Hollywood, look me up and I might have someone more age-appropriate to whom I can introudce you. Love, Dot."

"Bah!" Deuce said, throwing the note down. Ten years wasn't that much of an age difference.... was it? He wished he could ask Gloria whether it was weird to be attracted to his step-mother. He knew what she'd say, but he also knew he probably needed to hear it. Unfortunately, Gloria was halfway to Canada by now.

From the sofa, a bleary Roger Cleaves raised his head and said, "Why are you making noise? It's too early."

Deuce replied, "You should talk. You snore, you know. I could hear you through the door."

Roger waved a hand in dismissal and dropped his head back onto his pillow. He was soon snoring softly. Deuce looked at the half-brother he barely knew. The kid had gotten into the liquor at the reception, somehow avoiding the eagle eye of their grandmother. Alice usually could spy that kind of thing from a mile away. Deuce hated to admit it, but he was impressed.

The whole situation was a bit surreal. Not only was Roger his and Gloria's half-brother, but he was also the half-brother of a pair of really good FABL ballplayers in Jack and George Cleaves. Deuce was thankful both those guys were playing for the Miners over in the Fed. Having a shared half-brother didn't make them exactly related, by Deuce's reckoning, but he wasn't sure what it made them. Regardless, let them tear up the pitching in the other league, thank-you-very-much.

Deuce rubbed his chin, thinking maybe it was a good thing to have a brother reasonably close to his own age. Charlie was really just a little kid after all but Roger was going to turn eighteen in January, and he was certainly rough around the edges, but having a brother he could talk to had to be a good thing, right?

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Same day, Niagara Falls, ON:

"I swear, I don't know how you ballplayers do it," Gloria McCullough (that hadn't taken long to get used to) told her new husband.

"Do what?" Charley asked as he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and a finger jammed in his ear, twisting back and forth.

"Sleep on trains. All that rattling... ugh!"

Charley grinned and said, "Ah, you get used to it. Besides, we didn't do all that much sleeping last night."

Gloria blushed and shook her head.

"Hey, we're married now, so we don't need to worry about being so prim and proper," Charley said and leered at her.

"You have a point," Gloria said and reached for the towel.

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Later that day, Pittsburgh, PA:

Rollie was in the owner's box at Fitzpatrick Park. Dan Fitzpatrick himself had provided it for him, claiming he didn't care for football, despite having bought a fifty-percent stake in the Pittsburgh Paladins. Sometimes the fringe benefits of having the last name Barrell was a blessing, thought Rollie.

Still, Rollie couldn't help but compare it to Thompson's box, and he found it rather plain in comparison. Thompson Field's owner's box had been built by Big Eddie Thompson and that man had never done anything small. Rollie still missed him. Francie sat beside him on his left and Allie on his right. She had her notebook out and was carefully drawing something in it.

"What are you doing?" Rollie asked his daughter.

"I'm going to see if I can chart some of the Wildcats' plays."

Rollie was taken aback. "What? Why?"

"Well, I can give them to Mr. Coach Yurik."

Rollie started laughing. "It's just Coach Yurik, kiddo. We have scouts and assistant coaches to do that. And there hasn't been a play run in football yet that Yurik hasn't seen before."

Allie gave him a stern look. "I think I should know all about the team and how everything works now that I am your heir-apparent. I could never tolerate having someone who works for me knowing more than I do."

Rollie turned to his wife. "You hearing this?"

France pinched his arm and said with a smirk, "What I heard is that you promised to let Allie run the Maroons when you retire." She paused and added, "Or die."

"She told you that?" Rollie asked.

"Of course, a girl her age tells her mother things. We have no secrets in my house, Roland."

"Of course, dear," Rollie said with a shake of his head.

Rollie was impressed with Allie's determination, but he still privately thought she'd grow out of this. You just didn't see grown women running big businesses and make no mistake, a pro football team was a big business.

Of course, things on the field couldn't be going worse for the Detroit Maroons. The Wildcats & Paladins had played a scoreless first quarter, but the wheels started coming off for Pittsburgh in the second frame. First the Wildcats had gone on a 91-yard drive to break the ice with a 1-yard TD run by Leon Stone. Then as halftime approached, the Paladins had botched a punt return, handing the ball to Chicago on the Pittsburgh 13 yard line. Needless to say it was soon 14-0. Pittsburgh QB Warren Howard threw an interception on literally the first play of the second half leading to a third TD for the Wildcats, who missed the extra point, leaving it 20-0.

And that's where it stood as the clocked ticked down towards the end of the third quarter. Rollie was seriously considering leaving. Francie looked bored - she was gamely trying not to show it, but Rollie could tell. Allie though... he figured she'd fuss if he wanted to leave before the game ended. After all, she'd miss out on precious intelligence about not one but two rival clubs.

Rollie was still ruminating when the public address announcer, after announcing the results of the play (another Howard incompletion) said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention please. We have just received word from the White House that the Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor. Would all servicemen in attendance please report to your units. I repeat, all servicemen in attendance, report to your units immediately."

Francie and Rollie immediately turned to each other, their eyes wide.

Beside them Allie said, "Pearl Harbor? Isn't that where cousin Aggie lives with her sailor man?"

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Same day, en route to Atlanta, GA:

Rufus Barrell was in the dining car with his son Harry, his daughter-in-law Sarah and their 16-month-old son Reid (whose full name was Joseph Reid Barrell in honor of Harry's maternal grandfather).

"Thanks for having a late lunch with me, Harry," Rufus said.

"Harry is able to eat anytime, anywhere, and virtually anything," Sarah told her father-in-law, following it up with a playful shove of her husband.

"Impressive," Rufus said, pointing at Sarah. "That you can hold your son and give your husband a shove at the same time," he added with a twinkle in his eye.

"I'm a versatile gal," Sarah said with a grin. Reid, as toddlers are wont to do, simply stared at various people and things, including the Tennessee countryside passing outside the window.

"Here comes Tom," Harry said and Rufus craned his neck to see his son walking quickly towards them.

"Hungry?" Rufus asked, pointing at his plate with his fork as Tom arrived.

"What?" Tom asked. He looked breathless. "No," he added.

Harry frowned up at his brother. "Something wrong, Tom?" he asked.

"Bob and I were in the smoking car, listening to the radio," Tom said.

Rufus shook his head. "If your mother hears that you were smoking," he began. Tom raised a hand. "I wasn't smoking, Pop. I wanted to hear the football scores. And you know Bob would catch it from Annette if he even considered lighting up."

Rufus nodded and Tom said, "None of that matters anyway. What does is what I just heard on the radio."

"And that was?" Rufus prompted.

Harry was shoveling a forkful of potatoes into his mouth when he heard Tom say, "The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor."

The potatoes plopped onto the plate as Harry stared wide-mouthed at Tom. "You're joking," he said.

"I wouldn't joke about this, Harry," Tom said coldly. "It's true. Apparently they hit the naval and air bases there first thing this morning and are still at it."

"It would still be morning there," Rufus pointed out, then asked, "Does your mother know?"

"No, I came here first," Tom said, adding, "And Bob went to tell Annette."

Rufus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "OK, I will tell her. She's going to be worried sick until we know that Aggie and Bill are safe."

What Rufus didn't say was that now they were in it, and in it for the duration. And that meant his sons - and even his grandsons - might be going into harm's way. He'd thought they were past that back in 1918... but here it was again, with a whole new group of young men about to be fed into the meatgrinder.

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