It looked less and less like he would, though, as the days went by with hardly anybody signing up for his classes. Despite how Compton and I harangued on everybody, after Hakes good as ordered us to.

Then an idea kind of fell down out of the sky.

It came one evening when I was in the barracks darning socks. Most of the fellows were over to the rec hall, and several of the ones who weren’t were singing along with Stan Worden and Jimmy O’Neill on their guitars and Nate on his harmonica.

They got to the end of a piece, and Hal Linchfeld, who had a right good voice, asked, “Anybody know ‘Aloha Oe’?”

Nate and Jimmy shook their heads.

Stan said, “Me, either. But I may have the music.”

He dug into his locker and came out with some sheet music he paged through. “I do have it,” he said, picking out the beginning of a tune on his guitar strings. “Here’s the melody.”

Jimmy looked astounded. “You play by dots?” he said. “I never knew anybody could do that.”

“I had to learn how to,” Stan said, never missing a beat. “My ear’s not so good as yours.”

He went back over some notes he hadn’t got quite right the first time before adding, “And there’s nothing in the books that tells me how to play the chords you do. I’d give anything to know those.”

“The grass is always greener, huh?” Hal said. “Here I can sing, but what I’d like is to play a harmonica.”

“Stan and Hal are nice guys,” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah,” I answered. “They all are.”

A little later I walked over to the lighted education building.

Knocking and opening the door at the same time, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Romsteder at his desk, just staring at a pile of papers. Looking up, he took a second to refocus. Then, his face brightening, he said, “Moss Trawnley, right? Come in.” He waved to a chair. “Take a seat.”

He seemed so tickled to have company, I felt bad saying I couldn’t stay long. And now I was there, I didn’t know how to get started. “How’s it going?” I asked.

“Fine, fine,” he answered. Then he said, “No, that’s not true. You’re one of the few enrollees who’ve found this building, and I can’t understand it. The CCC is offering such an opportunity, whatever anyone wants to learn . . .”

He glanced at the papers on his desk. “And some of these boys need so much. A few can’t even read. Others ought to be in college, and I could at least give them something to keep their minds growing. I just can’t understand why there’s no interest.”