Tracie Peterson (18 page)

Mary Ann’s anger abated. She was never one for harboring ill feelings for long. “I know you do. I know God cares about me as well. I’m trying to be the person He wants me to be, and that includes offering compassion to a man who seems so sad—so left behind. Haven’t you ever felt that way, Ellen? My uncle Morris felt that way and it drove him to the bottle. It broke my mama’s heart. If I can help keep another soul from going down that same path, shouldn’t I at least try? I mean, you know that Ray used to drink all the time when we first started going with him to the dances. I told him about my uncle and how it worried me that he could ruin his life too. He was so touched that I cared. He admitted he was seeking solace in the bottle. And you know very well that he doesn’t drink at all now.”

“Well, I have to admit you’re right about that. I haven’t seen him take a single drink at any of the dances,” Ellen replied. “Maybe I am being a bit hard on him, but I still don’t care for the way he flirts and seems to have to be touching all the women.”

“He’s just lonely, Ellen,” Mary Ann said, slipping off her clothes. A cold draft touched her skin, making her teeth chatter uncontrollably as she hurried into her nightgown. “We just need to keep being friends with everyone,” Mary Ann suggested, “and pray for all of them. Ray included.”

“Maybe Ray in particular,” Ellen murmured and finished changing her own clothes.

Mary Ann climbed into bed and snuggled down into the covers. The argument between her and Ellen faded into thoughts of Erik. She conjured his image to mind, remembering him not in his uniform, but rather his Sunday suit and tie. He was so handsome with his sandy brown hair all slicked back and his grayish blue eyes shining with love for only her. Wrapping her arms around her, Mary Ann hugged herself tightly and tried to pretend it was Erik’s arms that held her.

I miss you so much
, she thought silently.
If only we could have married before you left. But you were so worried that I’d be rushing into the decision because of the war. Oh, Erik, nothing could be further from the
truth. I’ve loved you for so long. How could I not want to be your wife and spend the rest of my life with you?

“Good night,” Ellen said as she turned out the light. “Did you remember to set your alarm? I have to go in early tomorrow, so I won’t be able to make sure you’re up and ready.”

Mary Ann yawned. “I set it. I’ll be fine. Just wake me when you leave.”

Mary Ann felt Ellen’s gentle nudge. “Come on, sleepyhead. I need to get going and you said to wake you.”

“Let me sleep,” Mary Ann moaned. It just couldn’t be time to get up. Surely there was some mistake. She rolled over to catch sight of the alarm clock and moaned again.

“I still have an hour,” she murmured.

“I know. Just make sure you don’t turn off your alarm,” Ellen chided.

“I won’t. I promise.”

Ellen grabbed up her things and headed for the door. “Guess I’ll see you at the plant.”

Mary Ann mumbled good-bye, then pulled the covers up over her head. She’d just rest for a few more minutes and then she’d get up. Surely there was no harm in that.

But when Mary Ann did wake up, more than a few minutes had passed. She looked at the clock in disbelief and then looked at it again.

“It can’t be nine-thirty!” she declared, throwing off the covers.

The icy chill of the room caused her to shiver. She hurried into her uniform and prayed that the clock was wrong. Racing against time, she threw her hair into a haphazard knot at the nape of her neck, grabbed a hair net, and pinned it on loosely. Her head pounded furiously with the pulsing rhythm of her heart. She was going to be in for it for sure—tardiness was not very well accepted. Absenteeism was looked upon as treasonous.

When she finally reached the plant, Mary Ann was still mulling over the events of the night before in her mind. She felt guilty for her defense of Ray, especially when Ellen had been right about the way he’d made her feel. She’d have to talk to him about not being so
physical. She could only hope it wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“Miss Rolands, you’re late,” a voice growled out.

Mary Ann cringed. Sam Johnston wasn’t exactly the understanding kind. As one of the plant’s area supervisors, Sam took special pride in policing the plant for any kind of violation.

“I know I’m late,” Mary Ann said, trying hard not to sound scared.

“Can’t have it, Miss Rolands. There’s a war on and this is the kind of thing that the enemy thrives on. You might as well be putting bullets in our boys yourself.”

Mary Ann looked at the man in disbelief. “I have a fiancé in this war,” she said, tears coming to her eyes. “You have no right to suggest—”

“I think we’ll take this up with management and see if your employment is even needed,” Johnston said, eyeing her severely.

“What’s happening here, Sam?” Ray questioned as he came onto the scene.

“Miss Rolands seems to think she can wander in here anytime she likes. I don’t think we need employees like that.”

“Calm down, Sam,” Ray said, slapping the older man on the back. “Miss Rolands was running an errand for me. No problem here.”

Sam gave the briefest look of disbelief, then muttered, “Well, if that’s how it is.” He stalked off in the direction of his own department, leaving Mary Ann to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thanks, Ray. I didn’t hear the alarm and Ellen didn’t wake me up.”

“No problem, doll face,” Ray said, giving her a suggestive grin. “But you owe me now.”

Mary Ann swallowed hard. Her stomach did a nervous flip. “I owe you?” The words came out in a croaking kind of tone.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, moving closer. “See, I just saved you from losing your job and having to go back to that little no-nothing town of yours. I think you’re special, you know. I wouldn’t have done it for just anyone.”

“Well, you know I’m grateful.”

“Yeah, I knew you would be,” Ray replied.

His oily smoothness caused Mary Ann to back up a pace. “Well,
I am. I won’t let it happen again.”

Ray backed her against the wall. “So how are we going to resolve this?”

Tension twisted Mary Ann’s stomach into knots, and she shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He smiled and lowered his voice. “I just figure we can find a way for you to give me a proper thank-you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she repeated.

Ray stepped back and studied her for a moment. “I’ll let you know what I mean when you go dancing with me tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty sharp.” He clicked his tongue and pointed his finger at her in his characteristic nature. “Wear the red dress—it’s my favorite.”

The rumbling sound of Erik’s stomach reminded him that he’d not eaten in over seventy-two hours. Weak and wracked with pain, Erik pressed through the jungle in hopes of finding something to eat. No matter which way he turned, however, neither food nor the river availed itself to the tired marine.

“God, this is starting to be pretty annoying,” he muttered quietly. He had started talking out loud again out of sheer rebellion to the maddening silence. His concern over making noise and thus attracting attention to the enemy didn’t seem so dire this morning, and Erik needed his voice for company or he’d go mad.

Erik had created for himself a new kind of one-on-one relationship with the Almighty. He’d been in church all of his life and had accepted that God had a plan for him, but this was different. Born out of necessity and a feeling that perhaps this had been the only way God could get his attention, Erik figured the sooner he paid attention, maybe the sooner God would deliver him out of this mess. God seemed to want something from him. Maybe it was just affirmation of Erik’s devotion. Maybe it was something else. But here in the island jungles of the South Pacific, Erik knew God was his only hope.

Sweeping the ground in front of him with a walking stick, Erik suddenly stood still as he heard the unmistakable sound of rustling in the brush. A grunting, snorting kind of sound followed, and immediate visions of food began to dance in Erik’s head.

Creeping ever so cautiously ahead, Erik was certain the sound had to be coming from somewhere to his right. Perhaps if he circled the area quietly, he could get a feel for where the animal was—and what it was. He figured it to be a wild pig, but since he’d already been wrong on so many other counts, Erik wasn’t taking a chance. For all he knew it could be some sort of hideous island monster that would just
as soon eat him as be eaten. No sense in getting himself killed, Erik reasoned.

In a tiny clearing of the brush, Erik could see that his instincts had served him properly—this time. A wild sow with several piglets stood nosing at something on the ground. Her snorting and sniffing seemed to echo in the heavy air around Erik. It was a beautiful sound.

Holding the walking stick up like a club, Erik figured if he could just whack the creature over the head, he might be able to stun it long enough to catch hold so he could slit its throat. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot the animal and possibly bring the attention of the natives and maybe Japanese down on his head. He watched the sow for a moment longer, trying to decide how best to sneak up on her. She appeared completely oblivious to his presence. He could already taste roasted pork in his mouth—never mind that he had no matches or means to cook the pig.

Somehow, much to his own surprise, Erik managed to get within three feet of the beast. The little ones seemed far more interested in nursing than in concerning themselves with anything else, and by the time Erik made a lunge for the collective group, all four of the piglets had returned to their mother’s side. The introduction of a human being to the group, however, was not received in a welcoming manner. Squealing in terror, the piglets ran in circles around the mother pig, while Erik held on for dear life to the back right leg of the sow.

Why did I go after the sow?
he wondered as the pig grunted in protest and began thrashing back and forth. She was twice as big as he’d originally thought and none too happy about his intrusion. Taking off in the direction of her piglets, the sow squealed and carried on, dragging Erik with her as she went.

Erik didn’t know whether to let go or not, but soon he had no choice. The pig managed to scramble over a fallen log, but Erik wasn’t so lucky. Smashing up against the obstacle, he hit his head hard and let go of the pig.

Hunger refused to keep him down. Erik knew he’d seen little else that interested him half so much as that pig and her babies. He got to his feet and pulled out the .45. He might make quite a racket, but at least he’d have food.

“I’ll teach that sow to mess with a marine,” he muttered.

Racing after the sow, Erik maneuvered through the vegetation in record time. Slapped and beaten by the brush, Erik hardly paid it any attention. He could hear the pig snorting and squealing up ahead and he had to stay on her path.

But just as he managed to regain his position, Erik heard the unmistakable sound of voices. There seemed to be several people and they were apparently quite interested in something. Erik reasoned they’d probably heard the commotion he’d caused and were now coming to seek out the source of the noise.

With a deep sense of frustration, Erik watched the backside of the sow disappear into the brush. He had no choice but to seek cover and hope he could hide himself away from the natives until they passed by. As quietly as he could, Erik crawled backward into a heavily overgrown collection of flowering vegetation. His thought was that the different colors, including those of the bright scarlet flowers, would help to keep him from being visible.

The stench from the plant life around him, combined with the constant process of decay on the jungle floor, did nothing to ease Erik’s already queasy stomach. He fought waves of bile that threatened to push their way up his throat. He’d already endured the dry heaves earlier that morning, and the last thing he wanted to do was suffer another round.

He heard the voices grow louder and listened, straining to understand the language. He tried to make out the words, but they were garbled and rapidly spoken. Soon, however, the voices faded as the natives moved off in a different direction. Erik waited for the better part of an hour before crawling out from his hiding place. His head spun violently as he stood. He knew he was fighting a losing battle as the malaria took hold of him.