Tracie Peterson (19 page)

“If I can just make it through the next few hours,” he told himself softly. “Just hang on.”

He pressed forward, only now realizing he’d lost his walking stick. He thought of trying to retrace his steps, then laughed at the folly of that idea. He had no idea where his previous steps were, much less where he might head now.

A light rain began to fall, as was the routine most every afternoon. Erik bore the inconvenience as best he could. He knew there was no getting away from the rain, and the more he grumbled about it, the
harder it seemed to fall. Turning up his collar, he tried to think of something more pleasant.

He imagined his mother standing over the stove in the kitchen. She made a beef stew with gravy thick enough to stand a spoon in. His mouth watered. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to think of home. But home was all he wanted to think about. Home and the people he’d left behind.

Oh, Mary Ann
, he thought, dreaming of the only girl who had ever stirred his heart.
I need you. Please remember me. Please don’t let someone else steal you away from me
.

Thinking of home and Mary Ann came as a bittersweet incentive to keep moving. He worried about those he’d left behind. Worried that in his absence from civilization and news of what was happening, the West Coast of America might well have met with a terrible fate. He couldn’t stomach the idea of not knowing. His commanding officers had told him rumors were the best way to defeat a man and that all rumors of the homefront should be ignored. He had admonished the men to write home and let the letters coming back be the proof of their family’s safety.

But those letters had never come. Erik had written when he could manage to get time between missions. He’d written to everyone at home and nothing had come back in return. He had a nagging feeling that maybe they couldn’t write him. Maybe something had happened in those festive weeks before Christmas and now those he cared most about were injured or even prisoners of war.

Then again, maybe that Ray guy had found a way into Mary Ann’s heart. Maybe he had charmed her with trinkets and outings. After all, he was there. Ray was flesh and blood; Erik was only words on pages, a picture on her nightstand, a ring on her hand.

“You’re borrowing trouble again,” he chided himself. The rain poured down in earnest now, drenching him to the bone. He never felt dry anymore, just various stages of wetness. The first thing he planned to do when he got back to civilization—and that certainly didn’t mean Guadalcanal—was dry off. He longed for dry socks, dry underwear, dry anything.

He remembered a summer walk in the rain with Mary Ann. They’d both laughed and enjoyed the feel of the water against their faces. They had taken refuge under a tree, holding each other close
and waiting in perfect contentment for the rain to pass. Now Erik doubted he’d ever want to take another walk in the rain, even with Mary Ann.

A noise caught his attention. It was muffled and almost nonexistent, but something made Erik take note. He paused, listened again, and waited. His heart pounded in his ears, but even against that rapid beat, Erik made out the unmistakable squeal of a piglet. The thing sounded scared. Maybe it had lost its way and had managed to get separated from the rest of its family. Maybe God was sending him supper.

Erik walked toward the sound, mindful of tangling vines and fallen logs. No sense in falling again. His head still smarted from where he’d hit it earlier. Rubbing it gently with the back of his hand, Erik tried to concentrate.

He walked upon the piglet almost without realizing it. In fact, he’d nearly stepped on the poor thing, so stunning it that the animal froze in place. Erik quickly picked up the baby pig. That was all it took to press the piglet into action. Squealing for all it was worth, the animal thrashed against Erik’s hold.

“This little piggy is coming to dinner,” he said, still not having a clue as to how he was going to eat the thing.

The unexpected sound of rustling in the brush caused Erik to fall silent. Not so the pig. Erik tucked him under his arm, wishing he knew how to silence the little guy. He thought to take off running, just in case the natives had returned after hearing the noise. No sense in having to share his find.

He’d taken no more than two steps, however, when the mother pig, complete with three of her babies, burst from the lush green camouflage to charge right at Erik.

“Ahh!” Erik let out his own yell before taking off at a maddening pace to avoid the angry mother. The piglet under his arm squealed and bellowed while fighting against Erik’s hold. It brought to mind visions of his high school days when he played football with a less-active pigskin.

Snap!
A branch smacked against Erik’s face, nearly breaking his nose. But this was no time to stop and feel sorry for himself, and Erik knew his only chance for maintaining his newly found supper was to keep running.

The sow kept after him in dedicated pursuit. Erik had taken her baby, and she wasn’t giving it up without a fight. Snorting and squealing encouragement to the piglet, the mother continued after them faithfully.

Erik thought about turning around to confront the sow with his gun, but to do so he’d have to put the piglet down, and that would rather defeat the purpose. Still, he didn’t have the energy to keep it up much longer. The jungle around him was already swimming in his vision, and there was a roar in his ears that blended with the chorus of pig protests.

“God,” he panted, “I could use some help here.”

He fell in the slippery undergrowth and lost his hold on the piglet. The beast flew out from under his arm while a steady stream of water rushed over him from the jungle floor. Somehow he’d managed to land himself in an impromptu creek.

There was no time for further consideration, however. The sow bore down on him in her displeasure. Apparently it wasn’t enough that Erik had let the piglet go, even if it wasn’t what he’d intended. This sow figured to teach him a lesson about messing with her family.

Barely getting to his feet before the angry animal reached him, Erik followed the rapidly building flow of water. Soon he was so caught up in the stream that it washed his feet out from under him. Sliding downward, Erik felt the earth go out from under him. He looked back to the ground only long enough to note that there was no longer any ground to look at. He couldn’t stop himself from plunging right over the side of the muddy cliff. As he fell, Erik noted the churning water below him. Well, at least he’d found the river.

“I don’t feel like dancing tonight,” Ellen told Mary Ann emphatically. “I’m sick. I’ve caught cold and all I want to do is rest.”

Dread settled over Mary Ann. “You have to go with me. I promised Ray.”

“Well, unpromise him. I’m not leaving this house.”

Mary Ann reached over to touch her friend’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

“I don’t need a fever to feel sick,” Ellen said. She paused long enough to blow her nose before adding, “I just can’t go with you. Why not stay home tonight?”

“Because I promised, and I don’t think Ray’s going to take the news very well if I go back on my word.”

Ellen looked at her rather suspiciously. “Has he done something to make you feel that you have to go with him?”

“Not exactly,” Mary Ann lied. “It’s just important to him, that’s all. Look, I promise if you go tonight, I’ll make it clear to Ray that we can’t go to any more functions for the rest of the week. Please, Ellen.”

Her pleading did the trick. Ellen sighed and pushed out of the overstuffed chair. “Okay, okay. I won’t have a minute’s peace around here if I don’t just get up and go. What are you wearing?”

Mary Ann felt a new surge of guilt wash over her. “My red dress.”

Ray seemed a bit surprised when Mary Ann and Ellen both came out of the boardinghouse. He said nothing, however, as he reached over to open the car door for them. It wasn’t Ray’s style to get out and properly help a woman into the car. This irritated Ellen to no end and she told Mary Ann this on regular occasions. Mary Ann, on
the other hand, kept trying to explain to Ellen that perhaps it caused problems for his bad leg. Ellen had not been persuaded, and even Mary Ann had to admit it was a rather lame excuse.

“You gals sure look sweet tonight,” Ray said.

“We can’t make this a late night,” Ellen told him right up front. “Mary needs some sleep and I have a cold.”

“Sure you wouldn’t rather stay home?” Ray questioned. “I don’t want to be the reason for seeing you miss work.”

“We’d both be better off staying home,” Ellen replied, “but Mary Ann insisted and here we are. Might as well give it a whirl.”

Ray settled back against the seat and eased the Chevy into traffic. “I promise you won’t regret it. We’ll have us a swell time—you’ll see.”

They reached the dance just as an entire shipload of sailors, it seemed, converged on the place. The men were more than a little happy to have some liberty in town and instantly took up the company of any woman they could latch on to. Mary Ann found herself swept away before Ray could even protest. She glanced over her shoulder to give a helpless shrug as Ellen met the same fate and was danced off in a different direction. Ray didn’t appear at all happy with the results.

Mary Ann danced with one sailor after another, listening to their stories of boot camp and the adventures to come. She felt sorry for them and yet she couldn’t express that. She knew they were excited about this strange rite of passage and yet she sensed in most of them a cautious amount of fear. They were going off to war with no idea of when or if they would ever return. Dancing to the slow, almost mournful strains of a love song, Mary Ann couldn’t help but think of Erik. How she longed for him to be home. To be here with her now.

Erik had been a poor dancer all of his life, but Mary Ann had taught him how to dance with her, and when they were in each other’s arms, Erik danced like he’d been doing it forever. That was only one of the reasons Mary Ann knew they were suited to each other. Erik couldn’t dance to save his soul with any of the other girls. He clomped around, stepping on their feet, turning them the wrong direction and completely exhausting them before the song ever came to an end. She smiled at the memory. The ladies had been happy to leave Erik to her care, and that was just as Mary Ann wanted it.

“Well, doll, ya wanna dance another?” the tall sailor asked her as the music ended.

“She’s promised me the next one, bud, so cut on out,” Ray declared.

The sailor glared down at the man. “How come you ain’t in uniform?”

Ray put his arm around Mary Ann and led her away. “Somebody has to stay at home and keep our gals happy.” He pulled Mary Ann into his arms and held her tight. “I never thought I’d get a chance to dance with you at all. We’ll have to remember this place and avoid it next time.”

“I don’t know,” Mary Ann said innocently, “I think it’s kind of nice.”

“Too crowded. Those sailor boys think they own the world. Well, they don’t own you.”

“Neither do you,” Mary Ann replied without thinking. She surprised herself with the uncharacteristic comment and quickly looked away.

Ray raised a questioning brow. “Oh? And who saved your sweet little smile when Sam Johnston intended to see you canned?”

“That doesn’t mean you own me,” Mary Ann replied, trying hard to sound nonchalant about the matter. She didn’t want a confrontation, and she didn’t want to hurt Ray’s feelings.

“Don’t go getting all riled up, angel. You know you’re my best gal,” Ray said, pulling her closer. “I was glad to come to the rescue. I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to you.” He rubbed the small of her back, pressing her closer.

Mary Ann tried to push away, but Ray would have no part of it. Clucking at her like a scolding mother, he leaned down to whisper against her ear. “We have a lot in common, you and me. You’re lonely. I’m lonely.”

“I’m engaged.” The statement did nothing to dampen Ray’s enthusiasm.

“To a guy who’s far away. A guy who may never come back to you. Do you suppose he’s spending his nights pining for you? Grow up a little, sweetheart. He’s having the time of his life. It’s the uniform, you know. Does it every time.”