Whispers of a New Dawn (32 page)

“When you see this car you’ll flip.”

“I’ll flip?”

“You’ll flip, baby.”

“I’ll go anywhere to dance with you. But if this place is at all posh—”

“It is.”

“—what is a gal like me to do? All I have are flying helmets and leather jackets and jeans. How can you take Amelia Earhart to the ball when she doesn’t look like Cinderella after the magic?”

“I lucked out buying you the swimsuit so I tried again.”

Her eyes came fully open instantly. “What?”

“I’m just glad your dad got here with it in time.”

“My dad?”

Jude took his cue and entered the room with a white silk gown in his hands. Becky dropped the bouquet but Ruth reached out and caught it. Becky had a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide and bright green.

“Of course your mom helped this time.” Raven watched Jude give the gown to Becky. “I didn’t want to mess up taking my baby to the prom. So it was a family affair.”

Becky put the gown to her cheek. “How did you know I wanted white?”

“I didn’t know. But I wanted it. You’re an angel.”

Her eyes were shining. “You have a crazy love for me.”

“I know.”

“Don’t stop, okay? No matter what else happens. Don’t stop.”

He put up his hands and shook his head. “I got no brakes, baby.”

“
Baby
.” She smiled. “It’s beautiful. But I don’t have any shoes to go with it. Nothing. Are they going to let me dance in bare feet?”

“On the beach it doesn’t matter. But in the club that could be a problem.”

“So—”

“Enter Mom to save the day.”

Lyyndaya walked in flashing her smile. “All this drama, Thunderbird. I thought you’d never get to me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Whetstone, I guess I do like my games.”

Lyyndaya held out white high heels to her daughter. “Not from the Amish in Lancaster County. But they’ll fit. I know my girl’s ten toes.”

“Mom! What’s going on here?”

“Just trying to raise my child in the best way I know how.”

Becky held the shoes and gown and struggled with tears. She looked at Raven. Stumbling for words, she managed, “I…I have to get changed…”

“I’ll leave you to that. I can hardly wait.”

“For what?”

“To see you come down that staircase looking like a dream.”

When she did come down the stairs it was more than Raven expected. The high heels made her four inches taller. Her legs were shimmering in stockings of sheer white silk. The gown flowed to just below her knees and her arms were bare down to the white gloves on her hands that matched the dress. The gown was fastened in the middle with a gold clasp. Ruth had brushed her hair until it sparkled like diamonds and had helped her apply things neither of them knew how to do well—eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara. Raven had never seen her eyes look so much like the turquoise of the tropical waters or so large
they seemed like the green sea itself. Becky had used lip gloss as well and her mouth had a soft gleam. A flesh-colored cream covered the blemishes on her neck. He took her hands in his and breathed in the scent of her perfume.

“Well?” She squeezed his hands. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I don’t have words.”

She brushed his cheek with the back of her gloved hand. “My baby doesn’t have words? Since when?”

“Since you stepped out of the clouds and into my arms.”

She smiled and laid her head on his uniformed chest. “Those are pretty good words. Where is everyone?”

“Outside looking at the Packard. Skinny just pulled up with Manuku.”

“Is Ruth out there too?”

“Yes. The whole crew.”

He kissed the top of her head, drawing into himself the richness of her gold hair. “Milk and honey. And lemons.”

“What?”

“Sometimes you’re like freshly baked bread too. But my favorite is when you’ve been out in the sun and you smell like cookie dough rising in a warm oven. Chocolate-chip cookie dough. That’s the best.”

“You really are a nut.”

“You look like moonlight in that gown. Do you know that?”

“Well, now I know.” Her gloved hand brought his head down. “I feel like a bride. This is for you. You make me feel like a woman.”

A car horn honked twice outside. Jude came to a window and tapped.

“Cinderella, your carriage awaits,” he announced with a grin.

The warm night was full of sailors in white uniforms and caps striding across the streets between cars and spilling over the sidewalks in small mobs. The crimson Packard pulled up in front of a club surrounded by coconut palms and beds of tropical blossoms. A doorman immediately opened the passenger door and Manuku stepped out in his white suit and offered Ruth his hand. She slipped along the seat and put her black high heels on the sidewalk. Standing erect, she was
as tall as he, and her upswept hair, high cheekbones and perfect posture made sailors walking past slow down and linger. One or two whistled. Manuku smiled at this but Ruth grew rigid and tightened her lips.

“They’re just saying they like you in the Navy man’s way,” Manuku said as she slipped her arm through his.

“It’s so much not the way I was raised. I like dressing in silk and dancing with you. But I’m not comfortable having strange men gawk at me.”

“Yet how could they not notice you?”

“Manuku—”

“Your look is dark and strong and perfect.”

“Perfectly mismatched, you mean.”

“No, that’s not so. You are a wonder. Put you back in your Amish dresses and stick a thousand pins in your hair and you are still a wonder.”

She gave him a smile as her eyes flashed. “Take me inside, charmer, and hold me in your arms, please.”

Raven was helping Becky out of the backseat. Her white heels and long legs came first, and sailors and soldiers hung back and offered more whistles. She smoothed the white silk of her dress as she stood next to Raven and took his hand, reddening as several Army pilots stopped to clap.

“Are my aunt and I some sort of show?”

“Looks like it.” Raven, his uniform immaculate, lifted his hand to the pilots. “I’d be clapping if I could get away with it.”

“Don’t you start, please.”

“You’re pretty gorgeous, Stardust. So is your aunt dolled up like that. Have some mercy on the guys.”

“Whatever I look like on the outside I’m still a good thirty percent Amish under my skin.”

“Thirty percent? Do you know that for a fact?”

She tightened her grip on his hand. “Take me into the club, please, Christian.”

He started toward the door that was being held open. “I thought you didn’t mind an audience.”

“Where did you get that idea? I always mind an audience.”

The club was huge, and dark but for a few table lamps. Colored lights rimmed the dance floor, at one end of which a tall man conducted a band of sixteen or so players. The floor was full of men and women who were dancing to a fast swing number. The headwaiter ushered them to a table and they sat and watched the quick, precise movements of the dancers.

“I can’t do that.” Becky leaned into Raven and spoke into his ear while the trombones blasted. “Can you hear me? I can’t do that.”

“Well, you can fly, can’t you?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“If you can fly you can dance.”

“I have a plane when I fly.”

“God gave you a plane for dancing. Your legs.”

“What?” She stared at him.

“You have great legs. You can go anywhere on those legs.”

“Christian, I can’t do everything you say I can just because you think God dropped me out of heaven into your arms.”

“Look.”

Raven gestured with his head. Ruth was laughing as Manuku swung her about the dance floor with ease. Becky couldn’t believe the freedom in her aunt’s shoulders and legs as Manuku guided her smoothly between other couples, spun her in circles, and brought the kind of big smiles to her face Becky had never seen in a lifetime. Suddenly Raven was stripping the gloves off her hands and pulling her onto the floor, and she was whirling and gliding as he tugged and pulled and tossed her past blue and red lights and the glittering brass of polished trumpets. Fear became astonishment, and astonishment became laughter that burst out of her stomach and chest, laughter she couldn’t stop. She was a kid on the swings, on the slide, on the seesaw. In the blur she saw pilots and sailors and soldiers circling the dance floor and swinging their right arms down again and again with the beat, cheering her on.

“What—what—” she gasped.

“They want us to go faster. Come on.” He smiled as perspiration ran down his face.

The song changed to a more rapid beat and three women began
to sing into the microphone—something about a boogie-woogie boy from Company B.

“Just do what I do,” Raven said, whirling her around the floor.

“Oh, sure,” she panted.

The servicemen were clapping and shouting in rhythm with the dancing. Becky sensed herself loosening up, her arms and legs keeping time. She began taking charge of some of the moves and leaped halfway across the floor when Raven threw her out of his hands, spinning on her own so quickly she couldn’t get her breath. The soldiers and sailors and pilots roared. To her it really was becoming like flight. She leaped again and landed in Raven’s arms, twisted loose and danced on her own, swinging past Ruth, and coming back for Raven to toss her in the air and catch her.

“I love it—but I can’t—keep it up, Thunderbird—”

“Sure you can. You’re serving your country.”

“What?”

“Give the guys something to cheer about. Come on. You look terrific.”

They danced until the band seemed to explode and come to a sudden stop. The women stopped singing, the room broke into applause, and the bandleader spoke into the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, how was that?”

Shouting and clapping and whistles.

“So who do we have here tonight? Any sailors from the
Arizona
or
Oklahoma
or
Tennessee
?”

An eruption of shouts and yells.

“How’s about the
West Virginia
or the
Maryland
or
California
?”

Another burst of hollering.

“We got any flyboys here? Ford Island? Hickam? Wheeler? Ewa?”

Becky clapped with the others and Raven took a bow along with other pilots scattered through the crowd.

“And we can’t forget our army men. Who’s here from Schofield Barracks?”

A huge roar made Becky laugh and put her hands over her ears.

“You want to keep dancing?”

Another roar.

“You want the lady in black to keep dancing?”

It was like thunder. Becky looked over at her aunt whose face was red to the roots of her long black hair. She couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or fast dancing—perspiration dotted her cheeks and forehead. As the applause continued Ruth put a hand over her eyes and dropped her head.

“What about the lady in white?”

The whole club seemed to blow apart. Men shouted and whistled. The clapping was like big surf breaking at Nanakuli during a storm.

“I thought you said this was a posh club,” Becky said to Raven, feeling the heat in her face.

“It is posh. No drunks. No fights. Hardly anyone smokes.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Keep dancing with me.”

“Christian—Thunderbird—I don’t run on aviation fuel—”

“You’re young.”

“I
was
young. I’m twenty and ancient in March.”

“You’ve got a long way to go till ancient, baby.”

The band struck up again and Raven began to swing her arm to help her get into the rhythm. “Now just stick with me, kid.”

“Kid yourself, old man. Anything you do, I’ll do. And if I decide to cut loose and go solo, catch me if you can.”

Flying and whirling and sliding. Sometimes Raven was with her and sometimes she was alone. She saw the band and the trombone players on their feet, saw the sailors and soldiers and pilots waving at her and whistling with their fingers in their teeth, saw her aunt laughing in Manuku’s arms, felt Raven’s quick kiss on her cheek, thought she could just about reach the ceiling if she jumped a little higher and stretched a little farther. Finally the music ended for the second time and she collapsed into Raven’s arms as the room erupted.

“That’s it. I can’t. No matter how loud they clap and yell.”

“It is pretty loud.”

“I don’t care. I’ve served my country. I’ve made up for all the Amish
who never served America during a time of war. I need you to take care of me now.”

“All right. I’ll do that.”

Slowly the clapping and whistling died down. The band was silent. No one was singing. She leaned against him and closed her eyes.