Tracie Peterson (5 page)

David had nearly reached the docks when the sky began to drone with the sound of aircraft. No one gave it much thought. David himself, suffering a terrible state of mind somewhere between
intoxication and hangover, had only one goal in mind. He had to reach the
Arizona
. He had to find a way to sneak himself back on board and back to his station, or better yet, his berth, before he could be found absent without leave.

Kenny would know he was missing. Kenny had taken it upon himself to be David’s mentor and point of accountability. David had abused it sorely, but Kenny was gracious and forgiving, striving instead to teach David in a gentleness of spirit rather than anger.

When the first explosions echoed across the water, David had nearly wrecked the jeep. In what became a rather surreal arena, David found his world completely altered. Bombs exploded in vivid bursts of flame. Billowing smoke rolled off the ships in the harbor and the docks. Soon it was almost impossible to see.

The noise built to an incredible crescendo. It was the noise David most remembered. The mass chaos had a sound like nothing he’d ever known. People screamed out in terror, aircraft roared overhead, bombs, cannons, and bullets offered a cacophony all their own. It was madness, pure and simple. There was no other word for it. Somehow America had gone to war, neglecting to let David in on the details.

When a Zero swooped low, barreling down from the sky, guns annihilating anything in their paths, David swerved to avoid being hit and lost control of the jeep. Flipping it upside down, David had still hoped to make it to safety as he crawled out from under the vehicle, but then an explosion rocked the very foundations of the earth and David knew nothing more. At least for a time.

Soon enough, David regained consciousness and the insanity returned. Someone had placed him on a litter, but they’d left him alongside another man—a man whose entire body lay blackened and burned, a man who no longer had even the slightest indication of life. Barely able to turn his head, David found another dead man on his left. The vision blurred before his eyes as he heard someone yell, “Forget about the dead, we can’t help them now! Just get the litter.”

Even in his corrupted state of consciousness, David knew they were talking about him and the men who lay beside him. Preservation gave him strength to call out. The word was garbled, slurred, and tasted of blood, but David nevertheless forced it from between his lips as the man came to move him from the litter.

“Help!”

In real life they had come to his aid, but in his nightmares they never did. Instead, David fought with imaginary demons, and rather than be taken to the sterile hospital bed where he could be cared for, David found himself wandering the docks of Pearl.

His imagination was far worse than anything life could have dealt him. He saw men dead or dying—bodies floating in the water, bodies lying on the ground around him. But worse still, he saw the dead come back to life to accuse him. He tried to get to the
Arizona
—to Kenny—but the ship was gone.

They’ve made it out of the harbor
, he would tell himself, but then he would see the truth of it. The
Arizona
had been sunk with most of its crew trapped within. In his nightmare he would attempt to right the wrong. As was often the case in dreams, David had a superhuman strength that allowed him to move bodies and debris in an effortless fashion, but it was never enough. With the
Arizona
underwater, David knew the only way to help was to jump into the water as well, and this was what he did. But it never helped. Truth be told, it only heightened the nightmare.

The hideous macabre vision of what he found there was something David had never even shared with his doctors. The faces of his buddies and shipmates, terror-stricken in desperation, loomed before him night after night after night. David could feel them reach out to him for help. He could feel himself being pulled down deeper into the waters. He needed air! He couldn’t breathe.

Coming awake in a heavy sweat, David always gasped for air as though it might well be his last breath. The beat of his heart pounded in his ear. He tasted the burning bile in his throat.

Throwing off the covers, David got out of bed and went to the window. Pushing the blackout curtain aside, he realized morning had come. Still shaking, he splashed water on his face and took several deep breaths. The doctors had told him to imagine himself somewhere pleasant—someplace he had been and found enjoyable. They had promised it would help. But instead of imagining some pleasant respite, David had actually made a pilgrimage. The stories Kenny told had left him with a desire to know a place like Longview for himself. The family Kenny had loved left David with visions of being a part of such a unit. But now that he was here, and for all the love and warmth he had found among Kenny’s own people, David knew the doctors had
lied. Pastoral settings and gentle people did not erase the hideous nightmares from the past. The monster still lurked beneath the bed, in the closet, behind the door. And that monster wanted David.

Ruth and Rachel both glanced up when David came into the room. It was nearly noon, but they made no comment of his tardy state. Rachel couldn’t help but notice the gaunt, almost haunted expression on David’s face. She’d heard his cries in the night and knew he was suffering from nightmares, but what she didn’t know was how to help. She’d wanted to go to him, to wake him from the horror and promise him that life would be better, but instead she’d remained safe in her own bed and prayed. It seemed the very best she could offer this troubled soul. Prayer, and perhaps her heart.

“Sorry, I guess I overslept,” he apologized, not willing to meet their eyes.

“Are you hungry?” Ruth asked in her sweet, motherly fashion.

David nodded. “But I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“No trouble,” Ruth replied. “I’m just fixing lunch. Do you like ham and beans? I mean, I know you’re Jewish, and I wouldn’t want to—”

“It’s not a problem,” David said quickly to reassure her. “I don’t worry about such things.”

She smiled. “Good. I have that and corn bread. Marion won’t be here. He’s got the day off and has gone to find us a Christmas tree. Helen is off to church to practice for the Christmas play. So it will just be the three of us.

“Rachel and I are baking cookies,” Ruth told him as she motioned him to the dining room table. “We’ve managed to get rather innovative with our cooking now that rationing places such limits on us. Marion is hopeful that it’ll be nothing more than a temporary condition, but we all agree that if it helps the boys overseas, it’s the least we can do.

“I need to tend to the oven,” she said after placing a steaming bowl of beans in front of him. “Rachel will share lunch with you and see to anything you need.”

Rachel smiled shyly and nodded. “That is, if you don’t mind having my company.”

David shook his head and seemed to be searching for something to say. Rachel took pity on him and interjected her own thoughts. “Good. Just let me grab the corn bread.”

She fairly danced into the kitchen, catching a quick look at herself in the glass of the china cupboard. She’d worked with extra care on her hair, having pinned her rather unruly mass with bobby pins the night before. She knew her mother had noticed the sudden change but was relieved to have the situation overlooked. Helen, on the other hand, had teased her unmercifully and Rachel had actually worried that her little sister’s comments and laughter might have been overheard by David.

Bringing a plate with the corn bread, Rachel found that her mother had already seen to putting another bowl of beans on the table. David looked up and, as if realizing his manners, stood quickly and pulled out Rachel’s chair for her.

“Thank you,” she murmured. She could feel the fire in her cheeks and knew she was blushing.
How silly he’ll think me
. She tried to compose herself before looking up. “Would you like me to offer grace?” she questioned, knowing full well from Kenny’s letters that David probably had no idea how to pray. David nodded and bowed his head.

Rachel cleared her throat nervously. “Father, we thank you for the bounty you have given. We ask your blessings on our home and on our country. We ask that you would watch over our friends in service overseas and our friends here at home. We also ask a special blessing on our friends the Akimotos. Amen.”

Rachel looked at David and smiled before passing him the plate of corn bread. “Mom makes the best corn bread. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

David took a piece, but the expression on his face was very troubled. Rachel couldn’t help but ask why. “Is something wrong?”

He looked down at the bowl of beans as if ashamed to look her in the face. “I don’t understand your attitude toward the Akimotos. How can you care what happens to them?” He looked up and the pain in his eyes caused Rachel to choose her words very carefully.

“I know you’ve been through so much, David. I can’t know the exact experience, but Kenny often wrote to tell me of the atmosphere and edginess of living in Hawaii prior to the bombing. I guess my
defense, if it must be that,” she said softly, “is that I know the hearts of William and Sarah. I know they loved my brother as much as I did.” Tears came to her eyes and she looked away. “I know William would have taken Kenny’s place that day if he could have.”

David put his hand on hers, and the coldness of it startled her. He seemed so void of life. Almost as if the pain and bad memories had snuffed out the very fire of his existence. Rachel felt drawn to him and looked up to see an apology in his expression.

“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you. That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry, too, for behaving so badly. I don’t want to be the cause of your tears.”

Rachel nodded. “My tears are born of my own pain—it’s nothing you’ve done.”

The moment seemed to linger and extend long past their original intent. Rachel sat very happily with David’s hand on hers, and despite its earlier coldness, Rachel could now feel a warmth to his touch.

“Oh, Marion’s home!” Ruth called from the kitchen, breaking the spell. “You should see the tree he’s wrestling down from the truck.” She came into the dining room, drying her hands on her apron. “I don’t know why he didn’t park out front on the street. Now he’s going to have to drag that thing all the way around to the front.”

Rachel pulled her hand away and sampled her mother’s beans. She collected her thoughts and gave David a smile. “You will help us decorate it, won’t you?”

David felt amazed at what had transpired between him and Rachel. He found himself tempted to tell her everything—to explain himself and his betrayal of Kenny and then to run as far away as his legs could carry.

Instead, he was now expected to join in the festivities and put aside his heart and fears. There was a first time for everything—even decorating Christmas trees. So he pushed away from the table and followed the women into the living room. His thoughts were momentarily lost in the vision of Rachel in a plum-colored dress with a pinafore apron of bleached flour sacks. She had taken extra care with her hair that morning—funny that he should notice something like that. She’d rolled and pinned her long chestnut hair back from her
face and curled the ends. The style suited her nicely.

She turned and caught him watching her and blushed furiously. David felt awkward in having been caught.

“Well, here’s the tree to beat them all!” Marion announced as he forced the evergreen beast through the front door.

Instantly the scent of pine filled the air. David had thought the boughs on the mantel to have been strong, but the tree’s aroma permeated everything in the room.

“Help me put it in this,” Ruth told Rachel as she pulled a good-sized metal bucket from behind the couch. Between the three of them they finally managed to secure the tree.

“Rachel, the sand for the bucket is out on the porch,” Ruth instructed.

“Can I help?” David asked as Rachel went for the door.

“Sure,” she said almost shyly. “I’d like that.”

David followed her out and found another bucket, this one filled with sand, waiting for their attention. “If you want to get the door,” David said, reaching down for the handle, “I can bring this.” Rachel said nothing but did as he asked.

David brought the bucket into the house and waited for Ruth to further direct him.

“Just put it down over here, David,” she called. “Marion is securing the tree with some rope.”

David could see this for himself as Mr. Bennett was now on his knees, half concealed by the thick branches of the Christmas tree. Depositing the bucket nearby, David stepped back and waited for further instruction. After another fifteen minutes of adjustments and filling the bucket with sand, everyone stepped back to observe Marion’s find.

It was just as David had imagined. The tree went nearly to the ceiling. He didn’t know how Mr. Bennett had gauged it so close. Perhaps years of repetition had enabled him to know exactly how high was too high, how wide was too wide.

“Well, it looks just perfect, Marion!” Ruth declared. “I think it’s the nicest tree we’ve ever had.” She glanced over at David and Rachel. “If you two aren’t busy with anything else, why don’t you go up to the attic and bring down the ornaments.”