The Home Front*
JEAN STAFFORD
I
N THE
back yard of the lodging house, in the top of a dead tree,
glib blackbirds swung in the wind on their individual twigs. Now and
again, at some signal, they dropped to the ground but presently re–
turned in a flutter of wings. Then the fancy would strike them to
clear the tree, every man jack of them and off they would go like a
whole company of hysterical busybodies. All the while they were
fussing, big silver gulls sailed at their ease, high above them, descend–
ing occasionally to sit on the edge of a moored fishing boat which
slowly turned round and round at the head of the little harbor. Some
of the gulls set out to sea, as straight and sure in their flight as though
a great hand carried them out beyond the causeway, to the Sound. A
savage; sunset ignited the windows of defense plants across the water,
caused derelict heaps of rubbish to glitter blindingly, smote the khaki
wings of helicopters which all day long gyrated over the dishevelled
land.
Although it was late in April and the day had been warm,
the room was chilly and the stout doctor, shivering, drew the heavy
Paisley shawl closer about
his
shoulders, sighed, and settled more
firmly into the rocking chair by the window. Steadfastly he stared
out. It would be self-indulgent to tum away in displeasure from all
the symbols he read in
his
prospect, unprofitable
to
admit the instruc–
tion of homesickness or vexation. (He had, of necessity, come to
this
twilight discipline; in days past he had been so imprudent in his
revery that he had often lost all perspective and had thought of the
war as a deliberate insult to
himself.)
And, indeed, it was not so much
sad or vexing as it was puzzling that he, a homeless man, citizen of
a distant country, was willy nilly a part of the "home front," sharing
richly in the spoils.
As
he followed the ascent of a helicopter, he
marvelled as frequently he did at the wonderful aptness of the phrase,
"the home front." Here people lived as headily and impermanently
as soldiers on battlefields. There seemed to be no natives unless the
babies born here during this long pause could be called such. No
indigenous architecture was visible. Probably it existed but
it
was
hidden away behind blocks of temporary structures, by barrack-
*
"The Home Front" is the second prize-winning novelette in the
PARTISAN
REVIEW-DIAL PRESS CoNTEST.
