Radar Girls

by Sara Ackerman

  Betty seemed to know a lot of insider information. “They say our living quarters will be ready on the first of February.”

  “Don’t you live nearby?”

  “It’s a ten-minute drive. And since Chuck is on the ship most of the time, I may as well stay here. I’ll visit when he’s on liberty.”

  Daisy wasn’t too keen on moving to Fort Shafter and living with a bunch of strangers so far from the ocean, but she had committed. She could always return home on her days off to get her saltwater fix.

  “Which ship is he on?” Daisy asked.

  Betty beamed with pride. “The Enterprise. He’s an SBD Dauntless pilot, leader of his squadron.”

  Walker was on the Enterprise, and Daisy wondered if the two men knew each other.

  “Aren’t they away now?”

  “No, they just came in after two weeks of protecting our islands. And I’ll tell you what, there is no feeling better than watching your man walk down that gangplank safe and sound and having him wrap you in those strong arms.” She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed.

  Fluff said, “Those pilots are something else. Does he have any available friends?”

  Betty waved a finger. “Honey, you don’t want a pilot. Course, I wouldn’t trade Chuck in for anything, but you have to have nerves of iron to stay sane. Every single day, you’re on your knees praying he’ll come home alive. Now that we’re at war, I hardly sleep.”

  Daisy thought of Walker. As hard as it was for the wives, it must be equally hard for the pilots. Though they were at least doing something, not just sitting around biting their nails. And even though she could tell that Walker was shell-shocked, he was the kind of man who jumped right back into the fire. Thelma was going to have a rough time with that one. Betty looked at Daisy. “What about you? I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

  “I’m not married.”

  “Do you have a beau?”

  “No.”

  She knew this subject was bound to come up in a room full of women, but didn’t feel like elaborating. So what if she was single? She had no desire to stay at home cooking corn casseroles and waiting for her husband to come home. Her dream of having her own little ranch allowed no room for that. The other thing was, you had to have a man want to marry you. Which had never even come close to happening.

  Thelma sat on the other side of Betty and apparently had been listening, since now she leaned over and said, “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but wearing pants may not be the best way to land a husband.”

  Betty sat up straight and said, “I think she looks fabulous. You ask me, the reason she doesn’t have a man is because she lives out in the boonies.”

  Fluff nodded in agreement. “My guess is Daisy will be fighting off the men soon, pants or no pants.”

  Daisy wanted to hug them both. Here they were defending her and yet they hardly even knew her.

  “I’m not in the market for a husband, which makes it easy to wear whatever I want,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster.

  Thelma smiled, lips red and shiny. “Just trying to be helpful.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard,” Thelma said, turning in her seat to face the other way.

  Daisy was left with her mouth open. It was school all over again. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this. But resigning on her second day would admit defeat. She’d made a promise. And promises were meant to be kept.

  7

  THE RESULTS

  The following morning, all the women circled up alphabetically around the table. The room smelled musty, most likely from the lack of light and the rain that had fallen all night. Daisy was in a foul mood already because Walker had been mute the whole drive in. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his demeanor had changed from friendly to gruff. A few minutes into the ride, she wished she had climbed into the back seat. Peg was still home sick, so it was still just the two of them. She hated to admit it, but a part of her had been looking forward to the drive in and listening to him talk. His voice had a gravelly texture with a dash of pidgin every now and then.

  Now, they waited for their tests to be handed back. General Danielson and Major Hochman had the honors. Tippy and Joyce, two of the supervisors, were pouring coffee, and Daisy downed hers in eight seconds flat. The burn distracted from her thoughts. Most of the women were quiet, though a few squeals and quiet moans escaped. Wilder was next to last, and when Hochman handed her the paper, she kept her eyes on the island of O‘ahu on the grid in front of her. Her heart was thumping along at race pace. When she couldn’t wait any longer, she flipped it over.

  Daisy Wilder: 96 percentile.

  She stared at the paper for a few moments, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Her left eye twitched. It was impossible. General Danielson began to speak to the group.

  “Now, given that this is what’s known as a standardized test, your score reflects how well you did among others in the country taking this test. One hundred being the top, if you scored say, 96th percentile—” he glanced at Daisy and she felt her face flush red “—then that means you did better than 96 percent of the population—including both men and women in the army. And by the way, that was our highest score in the class.”

  The room suddenly felt sweltering. She fanned herself with the test. Whoever had graded it had obviously made a mistake. Maybe she should alert them.

  “Who got a 96?” Thelma asked.

  He gave Daisy a little salute. “The honor goes to Miss Daisy Wilder, who earned a perfect score on the math section, I might add.”

  Fluff and Betty stood up and clapped madly, making way too much of a fuss. Daisy wanted to climb under the table and disappear, though a piece of her wished that Peg Montgomery was here to witness this. Some strange miracle had happened, but she wasn’t complaining. Many of the others congratulated her, but Thelma wasn’t one of them. Her mind flipped back over the questions, and her uncertainty with so many of the answers. And yet, Walker’s words had stayed with her. Never second-guess yourself.

  Hochman added, “Now, you are all getting the same training, but some of you who have shown aptitude in certain areas will be moving up from plotter to filterer soon after we hit the ground at Little Robert next week.”

  “Next week?” one of the girls said.

  “Yep, that’s when you’ll be officially taking over for the boys.”

  Right around the corner. A whole lot of responsibility. And they still had so much to learn. Daisy’s mood had flipped 180 degrees since getting the test back. Never had she scored highest on a test, though school tests had always been about subjects while this one was more about thinking. She was also looking forward to tomorrow, when they would be learning about the radar stations and aircraft vectoring. There was a good chance she was the only woman in the room who knew what the word vector even meant. This was the next best thing to flying a plane herself.

  When training ended for the day, the sky was black and raindrops the size of guppies fell in large puddles. The girls all stood bunched up in a steamy huddle just outside the door, waiting for a break. Talk centered on the capture of Manila and how it felt like the Japanese were on an unstoppable rampage across the Pacific. Bets were placed on how soon they’d return to Hawai‘i. Only now, maybe they had a way to stop them. Daisy sure hoped so. Walker pulled up a few minutes later.

  Fluff spotted him right away and nodded. “Who does he belong to?”

  Thelma said, “That’s Walker Montgomery, my boyfriend.” She looked directly at Daisy.

  “Is he the polo player?” Tippy asked.

  “Yep. And the pilot. And the son of Hal Montgomery. And the most handsome man on the island,” Thelma said with a wink.

  She blew a kiss to Walker, who lifted his hand in a curt wave.

  Daisy felt incredibly uncomfo
rtable. Walker was waiting for her, but walking out there in front of everyone and driving off with Thelma’s sweetheart would not win her friends. And Thelma was not the kind of woman she wanted for an enemy. It was plain enough she already looked down on Daisy. For a moment, she considered running back inside, pretending she forgot something. But that would only prolong things. The fact was, Danielson had enlisted Walker’s help, and Walker was a man of his word.

  “That’s my ride. See you all tomorrow,” Daisy said before she darted off across the swampy grass, holding up her slacks so they didn’t get wet. One thing was for sure, pants were far easier to run in than a skirt.

  By the time she reached the car, she was drenched. She went for the back door, figuring it was closer, and what did he care anyway? They probably wouldn’t talk the whole way home.

  “What do you think I am, your chauffeur? Come around to the front, Wilder.”

  He was good at giving orders, and she followed them like an obedient dog, out of habit more than anything. She also wanted to remind him that her name was Daisy, not Wilder. But all the guys at the ranch called her Wilder. She was one of the boys, so she could hardly blame him.

  He had the heater cranked up and all the windows were fogged. “How can you see anything?” she asked.

  “Hello to you, too.”

  A sheen of moisture coated his face, along with every other surface in the car. Daisy could feel the dampness on the seat against her thigh. The roads had turned into streams and giant mud puddles, and the sun was in hiding. Mist clung to the mountains in white clumps. Ever since the attack, it had felt like the weather was in mourning along with the rest of the island.

  Walker pulled out a pack of Doublemint gum and offered her one. She took it. “So? How’d it go?” he asked.

  Daisy knew what he meant, but suddenly felt bashful. “More of the same. We learned—well, I can’t tell you what we learned, actually. But we learned a lot.”

  “I meant the test.”

  She looked out the window at the cannery, taking in the smell of burnt pineapple. “I took your advice and went with my first guess. It actually worked.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. You did well, then?” he said.

  “I did.”

  “What was your score?”

  If there was one thing Daisy hated to talk about, it was herself. With so many interesting topics out there, why waste a breath on the dull stuff?

  “What about you? Did you get up in the air today?” she said.

  He chuckled. “Why are you dodging the subject?”

  There was a strange familiarity between them, as if by proximity and shared horses, they knew one another. Their lives had always moved in the same orbit, only he was more of a star and she, a tiny planet. Was Walker Montgomery somehow becoming a friend?

  “I’m not. I’m just curious,” she said.

  “So am I.”

  She could tell he wasn’t going to let up. “I scored in the 96th percentile, which I’m told is quite good.”

  He pounded the steering wheel and let out a whoop. “Good? Damn, that’s eight points higher than I got. And here I was giving you advice.”

  With her mother gone, it felt nice to have someone to share her little victory with. And yet she still wondered how he could even speak to her. “Your advice is why I did well.”

  “I had nothing to do with it. You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said.

  “I’m just happy I passed.” She shrugged. “Say, can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  The words tumbled out. “Why are you being nice to me? After what happened with Moon, I feel absolutely terrible. I had no right to ride him without your permission and... Well, I’m wondering why you don’t hate me for it.” She felt herself choking up.

  He ramped up his gum chewing. Bounced his left leg. After a few moments of silence, he said, “Sure, I was pissed about you riding Moon without asking. But I know you love him as much as I do. And after hearing your side of the story, I realized it wasn’t your fault. It was the damn Japanese. If it weren’t for them, Moon would still be here.” He turned her way and she felt her cheeks heating up.

  “I’m going to find him,” she said, risking a look.

  His five-o’clock shadow had grown to more of a beard than a shadow. “We’ve already looked on every square mile of the North Shore, and Dad has feelers out around the island,” he said.

  “I’m sure you have. But what if someone found him and is keeping him? Then all your looking won’t help.” It was the only logical explanation.

  “Word travels. We would have heard something by now,” he said.

  “I have an idea,” she said. It was more of a notion that she was not going to give up, and Moon had to be found. An idea would come. It had to.

  “Want to share it?”

  “No. But just know that I haven’t forgotten about him.”

  He didn’t press her, probably because he had no faith. Moon had been gone almost a month now. Time was not on their side. Whenever she thought of the lost horse, she felt a sharp stab of guilt.

  Daisy thought back to the time their cat, Lola, went missing, when she was seven or so. Up until then, wherever Daisy went, there was Lola. Curled up in the crook of her arm in bed, in the tree fort twenty feet up, even on the beach. Lola would weave herself along the edge of the sand in the bushes while Daisy built sandcastles and driftwood forts. One day after school, Lola wasn’t in her usual spot on the old log at the bottom of the driveway. She didn’t come home that night, or the next, or ever. Even thinking about it now filled Daisy with a deep sadness. That was the moment she understood that love had a hidden downside. The more you loved something, the more you hurt when you lost it.

  When they hit Schofield, Walker said, “You hungry at all?”

  Daisy shook her head. “I’ve been overeating at the Palace daily. From the amount of food they bring us, you’d never know there were rations going on.”

  “Mind if we stop at Kemo‘o for an ice cream?”

  “I don’t have any change on me,” she said.

  “My treat.”

  Kemo‘o Farms used to actually be a farm. A pig farm. You could smell it from miles away. Now, they were known for their fat steaks and their location on Lake Wilson, which wasn’t a real lake but people liked to fish there nonetheless. Daisy much preferred the ocean. But she wasn’t about to tell that to Walker. He seemed so eager to stop there, it was endearing.

  When they parked, she got out quickly, so there was no confusion about him having to open her door for her. They walked in side by side and up to the soda fountain. An older Hawaiian woman in a palaka mu‘umu‘u and bright red lipstick smiled brightly at Walker.

  “Mr. Montgomery, long time no see! Bumbye, I was starting to worry about you,” she said.

  He held up his hand. “I got into a little accident on the polo field, and well, then the world went to hell on us. Glad to see you open for business and looking well, Luana.”

  “We’re open, all right. Soldiers are lining up down the road to get in here, even the generals. No alcohol, of course,” she said as she set down two napkins. “Your usual?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And how about for your lovely lady friend?”

  Daisy and Walker both answered at the same time, then fumbled to speak over one another.

  “Make it two—”

  “We just carpool—” Daisy felt herself turn beet red. She had never been referred to as someone’s lovely lady friend.

  “Do you like root beer floats, Wilder?”

  The woman’s gaze bounced back and forth between them. “You two not an item?” she asked skeptically.

  Before either of them could respond, she turned to scoop the ice cream, leaving Daisy and Walker to sit with her words at the cool stainless st
eel countertop.

  Walker seemed more amused than anything. “I drive her into—”

  Daisy shot him a look.

  “—work, on base.”

  “I didn’t realize we had women in the military. What do you do?” Luana asked.

  “Oh, I’m a secretary. Just filing and answering phones. Pouring coffee for the men. That kind of thing.”

  Luana sized Daisy up and shook her head slightly. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a secretary type.”

  Daisy smiled sweetly and shrugged. “Someone’s got to do it.”

  Walker leaned a little closer to Daisy, though not quite touching. She suddenly wanted to close the gap between them, and feel the weight of his arm on her skin. There was a strange, magnetic sensation whenever they got close. A tickle to her insides.

  Luana poured the root beer and slid them two chunky glass mugs. Walker picked up his and said, “Cheers, to your success today. And Godspeed to our boys.”

  Their eyes locked.

  Daisy clinked her glass to his. “Godspeed to our boys, and to you on your next mission, whenever that may be.”

  As soon as she spoke the words, she realized it was going to be hard to see him go.

  * * *

  The following day was just as dreary, so it didn’t matter that they were sequestered away in a room in the Palace. Daisy wore pants again, with her only other presentable blouse, and she earned more lingering looks of disapproval. Being at the stables around men all day, she never felt out of place, yet here, among women in dresses and heels and lipstick, she felt like a p¯apio in a school of yellow tang. Having short hair did not help matters. It had grown some in the past few months without a cut, but still. Daisy was an anomaly. Always had been.

  Now that the group had a fair understanding of plotting basics, Major Hochman moved on to detailing the radar stations on the island. There were six stations, marked with large red circles on the map. Opana was on the North Shore near Kahuku Point in a landscape of dunes and whipping wind. On the morning of December 7, the boys stationed at Opana had picked up the Japanese planes, but mistook them for B-17 Flying Fortresses on their way in from California. The good news was, radar actually worked. Bad news, we could have been ready but weren’t.