Radar Girls

by Sara Ackerman

  Daisy laughed. “Nope. But I like her reasoning.”

  “It’s Chinese. We had a servant back home who was from China, her name was Yu Yan, and she was always telling my mom where to put stuff. Mom resisted at first, but eventually saw how brilliant her suggestions were.”

  “You had servants?” Fluff asked what Daisy was thinking.

  “Sugar, where I’m from, everyone had servants.”

  “Everyone?” Fluff said, with a look of disbelief.

  Betty fanned herself with a newspaper. “Well, maybe not everyone. My folks hired a bunch of Chinese workers on the plantation, and Yu Yan’s husband was one of the heads. Mama needed help running the house, so she took her in. Best decision she ever made.”

  “I didn’t know there were Chinese people in Louisiana,” Fluff said.

  “Not so different from here.”

  Hawai‘i’s plantations were full of their own villages that everyone called a camp. Chinese Camp, Filipino Camp, Japanese Camp, and even a Haole Camp, each with its own flavor.

  Lei, who had opted to keep living at home, showed up a little later with a bouquet of fresh-cut gardenias from her garden, three large boxes and four bottles of red wine. She set the wine on the Formica countertop, which was seaweed green. “I know it’s contraband, but this is top-notch stuff, gals.”

  Daisy knew the look of a person who had been crying all too well, and with Lei’s puffy eyes and red face, there was no mistaking it.

  “Are you all right?” Daisy asked.

  Lei half smiled. “I’m fine. Anyone care for a drink?”

  Betty brought four wineglasses out from the kitchen, which she had stocked full with dishes and cookware from her own home. Daisy had helped her fill the shelves with all kinds of utensils she had never even seen before, and felt ashamed to say so.

  Lei opened the wine and set the cork down, then asked Daisy to pour it while she dragged over one of the large boxes and pulled out a portable phonograph and began leafing through a stack of records. Daisy followed orders and poured out the entire bottle. Fluff came out of the bedroom in a flowy white dress and laughed out loud.

  “Feeling thirsty, are you?”

  “Did I do something wrong?” Daisy never drank wine. Never drank, period.

  “Those are just some hefty servings, that’s all.”

  Lei put on a record by Andy Cummings, who serenaded them in the background with “Waikiki” in that deep and swoony voice of his.

  Betty raised a glass. “To us and our boys, may we keep these islands safe from any more attacks.”

  Lei added, “And may this war end as fast as it began.”

  “Speaking of our boys, Walker said they are leaving on a mission any day now,” Daisy said.

  “That’s the scuttlebutt. I just hope I get to say a proper goodbye to Chuck. Seems like us wives are the last to know anything,” Betty said.

  Fluff glanced at Daisy with twinkle in her eye. “Walker is one of our boys now, is he?”

  “He is a pilot on the Enterprise, so yes.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Betty jumped in. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re likely to end up with a broken heart if you fall for a pilot.”

  Daisy looked into her glass, swirled it and took a big gulp. The wine went down more smoothly than expected. “All that time in the car together, it’s only natural that we’ve ended up friends.”

  “He ever take any friendly detours on the way home to watch the submarine races?” Fluff asked.

  Daisy swatted at her arm. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “What’s ridiculous about it? Two extremely attractive, single adults who happen to enjoy each other’s company. I asked around, and word is, there has been no official engagement. Sounds like Thelma might be making more of it than it really is.”

  This was news.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Lei nodded in agreement.

  “Don’t let Thelma hear you say that,” Daisy said, looking toward the open window, as if their voices might carry down the lane.

  “Why are you so intimidated by that woman? Yes, she has money, but so what?” Betty said.

  “I don’t know. She’s smart, too. And gorgeous and worldly—”

  Fluff swung her hips around to the music. “And boring. Nor is she as smart as you, my lovely plotting wizard.”

  Daisy felt the wine in her legs, running through her blood vessels and weakening her knees. A rather pleasant sensation that detracted from all the unwanted attention.

  “That woman is so full of herself, there ain’t room for another person in there. Walker is a fool if he wants her, in which case you wouldn’t want him anyway,” Betty said.

  Daisy’s resolve was slipping. But if she admitted out loud that she had a thing for Walker, then it meant putting her heart out into the world. There would be no going back. Sharing the intimacies of her life with other people felt risky.

  She took another sip of wine. “What makes you think I want him?”

  Betty looked offended. “You think we’re that dumb?”

  “How about because you float out of the car whenever he drops you off. Or how your voice gets higher whenever you mention his name. It may not be obvious to you, but it’s obvious to us,” Fluff said.

  They all nodded in agreement. These gals were not going to give up.

  Daisy sighed. “So maybe I have developed an innocent crush on him. It’s not like I’m going to act on it. And this stays between us. Walker’s whole family hates me, and the last thing I need is for Peg to get wind of this.”

  “Jane Eyre said it best. Wouldn’t you rather be happy than dignified?” Fluff asked.

  “I’ve never read Jane Eyre.”

  “Well, you ought to. You could learn a few things about life and love. I’ll lend you my copy.”

  Daisy wasn’t about to point out that Fluff herself was unattached and recently brokenhearted.

  “And I don’t give a horse’s tail about being dignified. So I guess the answer is yes,” she said.

  “Which is precisely what draws Walker to you, I’m sure. Men love a wild streak. Something they have to tame,” Betty said.

  “Even if he liked me, nothing could ever happen between us. His father fired me for stealing Moon and they think I’m a dumb hick. The Montgomerys would never allow their son to be with someone like me.”

  A breeze wandered through the house, stirring up the air. Mrs. Montgomery had always made it clear that Daisy—and even her father—were hired help and several steps below them in importance. Sure, they got invited to the Christmas party, but so did everyone else.

  “We need to ramp up our efforts on finding that horse. Then they won’t have any valid reason,” Lei said.

  Fluff told them, “I put it out there to my family. Uncle T says that up until December 7, the Pineapple Derby was still going strong in Kailua. I guess there are some unsavory characters involved and a lot of money being made. If Moon fell into the wrong hands, he’d be worth a pretty penny.”

  Lei opened another bottle and poured, though Daisy’s glass was still half-full. Her body was glued to the chair and her head felt wobbly. She held her hand over her glass, “No more for me.” Lei poured anyway.

  “I think we need to run another top-secret operation,” Betty said.

  Fluff clasped her hands together and squealed. “Yes! We’ll pack a picnic and go around the island on reconnaissance.”

  Despite her struggles with technical details, Fluff had really taken to the clandestine nature of their work. She couldn’t keep her quadrants straight or figure out a range arc, but she knew every code name on the table, from Alfred to Kendrick to Zachary, and had begun to attach code names to everything and everyone. Nixon was Nancy and Dunn was Dorothy and Danielson, Daddy.

  “We’ll go on our next day off. I�
��ll drive,” Lei said, as though the trip was nonnegotiable.

  Fluff squinted in concentration for a few moments, then said, “Operation Equine!” So this was what happened when a bunch of women got together for wine. They talked about men and concocted schemes to get themselves into trouble. Sitting here in this room was like a big warm hug, and before she knew it, Daisy’s eyes were tearing up. For a few moments, it wasn’t about the war and the fear and the latest rumors, it was about the four humans sitting in this small wooden house.

  They all looked to Daisy for approval. How could she deny them?

  “I love it!”

  * * *

  Sometime in the blackest hour of night, Daisy woke to a strange sound. She remained motionless under the covers. Had she been dreaming? A loud rustle in the bushes just outside nearly stopped her heart. Sleeping in a different bed for the first time in her life was bad enough, now this. She should have brought the shotgun, but had figured they were on a US military base and well protected. It was a windless night, not even a whisper of a breeze. Across the room, Fluff snored away. Moments later, a low guttural noise came in through the window, followed by the tiniest meow.

  Her whole body relaxed. She tried to go back to sleep, but every time she began drifting off, the cat would meow again. The animal seemed to know the exact second Daisy was going under. Tomorrow was a big day and she needed her sleep. She had half a mind to yell or bang the wall or even shine a light, but that would only cause a commotion and wake the whole neighborhood. After what felt like hours, she finally got up and tiptoed down the hall, through the living room and out the front door, guided primarily by her hands. Outside, there was enough pale moonlight to see outlines of trees, automobiles and large objects. Daisy went around back. She was barefoot and in a cotton nightgown, and the cool air pricked her skin.

  “Here, kitty, kitty,” she whispered.

  She watched for any signs of a shape moving about, but saw nothing. Food might help her cause, but that would surely wake up Betty and Fluff. “Kitty!”

  Going back to bed would solve nothing, so Daisy sat down in the grass and waited. Every now and then, she whispered to the cat, but it remained stubbornly hidden. With a parched mouth and a small headache at the base of her neck, oh, how she just wanted to sleep. She lay back in the grass. Between the clouds, clusters of stars shone through and she looked for constellations. If there was one thing you could count on in life, it was the night sky, and even more so, the North Star. Even behind the clouds, you knew the stars were shining.

  For a time, she was caught somewhere between wake and dreamland. She swore she felt a sandpaper tongue licking her face and soft fur rubbing up against her arm. And then she was in a plane with Walker soaring over Kahuku Point. He let her take the controls and she was feeling very proud of herself when a round of bullets hit the fuselage. First one engine sputtered and then the other. The plane took a nosedive.

  “We’re going down!” she screamed.

  Walker kept his cool. “Pull the nose up, nice and easy.”

  Nothing happened. The ocean below was a blue blur coming up fast. “I can’t!”

  “Daisy you can. Up!”

  Something was hitting her on the side. Were they being shot again? No, it was just Walker leaning forward and tapping her. “Why are you hitting me?”

  Daisy cracked her eyes. She was lying on her side in the damp grass and there were two black boots in front of her face. The plane had crashed but she was alive!

  “Where’s Walker?” she mumbled.

  A hand gently shook her on the shoulder. “Ma’am, wake up.”

  In the predawn murk, she noticed the outlines of the house and everything came crashing back to her. She bolted upright, covering her chest with her arms.

  “Rough night last night?” he asked.

  “This is not what it looks like. There was a cat out here making a lot of noise. I came out to see what the fuss was and I must have fallen asleep.”

  Her heart still thumped along from the plummeting plane. Gunpowder tickled her nose.

  “Who’s Walker? That the name of your cat?”

  Suddenly, Fluff was standing next to the man. “Yes, yes it is.”

  He kept his eye on Daisy. “Normally, I have to report this kind of thing. Breaking curfew is serious business.”

  “I’m sure you can see it was an honest mistake,” Fluff said.

  Daisy was annoyed. “This is our yard, not the street. So technically, I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  He held out a hand to help her up. “How about this—you ladies keep Walker inside at night. That way there’s no temptation to go out after him. And no confusion.”

  Fluff laughed out loud. “We’ll do that, sir.”

  12

  THE FLY BOYS

  At 0800, the girls were sitting in their seats at Little Robert, ready to learn everything there was about vectoring an aircraft. Daisy was on her third cup of coffee, and had just swallowed her second malasada. On the mornings that Lei brought them, three-quarters of the girls in the room went around with sugar mustaches. Fluff was halfway through telling Lei about the cat named Walker when Nixon walked in. All conversation ceased.

  “Hochman is out, so I’m taking over this morning,” Nixon said. He did not look pleased.

  Daisy looked closer, noticing Nixon, too, had a line of sugar crystals on his upper lip. For some reason, it made him seem more human. All eyes were on him, and he looked down at the papers he held, hands a little shaky.

  “We’re just waiting on two other fellows,” he said.

  The girls all sat tensely at their desks, until someone in the back started whispering, and then a few more, and pretty soon the whole room was an echo of chatter. Fluff picked up where she left off with Lei.

  “The poor man probably thought he’d died and gone to heaven, with an angel in a damp white nightgown sitting at his feet.”

  Betty leaned in. “I was sound asleep, never heard a peep, but you can bet they’ll be fighting for duty in our neighborhood now.”

  Lei attempted to seem interested, but there was a flatness to her smile. All of her gumption seemed to have been left at home.

  “Is everything all right?” Daisy asked her, once again. Maybe it wasn’t her place to ask, since Lei fell someplace between friend and mother and was the most efficient person around, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Lei simply said, “Fine.”

  She was not fine. Anyone could see that. In Daisy’s experience, moods changed the chemistry in a room. Each one having its own signature and rubbing off on the people around them. Sadness was heavy and tasted like salt, making everyone feel weepy, while anger suffocated and pressed in with sharp edges, giving off a kind of invisible steam. From Lei, Daisy sensed resignation and a hollowness.

  Living with Louise had required her to be an expert in body language. But it wasn’t just that. Her father had taught her at a young age to pay attention not only to a horse’s eyes, but postures and gestures and subtle cues they sent off. Humans were no different from horses. In that respect at least. She imagined herself in a room full of horses. Nixon would be the stallion with twitchy ears and tension around his eyes while Dunn would be the one flehmening and sniffing for pheromones. The girls would all be in various states of relaxation, with some, like Thelma, having their heads high and ears turned back, keenly listening in on others’ conversations.

  A few minutes later, two men entered the room, both in flight suits. Fluff stomped hard on Daisy’s foot under the table as she watched Walker and another pilot shake hands with Nixon.

  “Ladies, meet Lieutenants Walker Montgomery and Ed Skinner. They are going to help you understand what vectoring means to us here at Little Robert, and how important it is to a pilot,” Nixon said, stiffly.

  Walker seemed to grow more handsome each day, or was it a figment of
Daisy’s imagination? His eyes scanned the room and when they fell on her, a smile showed in his eyes. She shifted in her seat and felt a line of heat running up her spine. Something was obviously wrong with her. She found her reactions distracting and unsettling. Yet the more time she spent in proximity to Walker, the more she thought about him.

  Nixon gave a brief intro. “Now, there will be times when we have pilots coming in that need help in navigation and maintaining their track, especially at night. With radar, we can do that.”

  This was the first time that Nixon had spoken to the girls as a group, and Daisy noticed that he rarely made eye contact with any of them. As he spoke, he kept turning his attention to the two pilots, as if they were the ones who needed to know this. Walker tapped his foot and nodded along to Nixon, but every so often, his gaze wandered toward the side of the room where Daisy sat. She made it a point to focus on Nixon. She wanted everyone in the room to know that she took this vectoring very seriously.

  “There may be times when your guidance means life or death for these boys. Would you two like to explain how they can best support you?” Nixon said to Walker.

  Walker stood and put his hands in his pockets. You could have heard a feather fall. “Let me just start by thanking you all for volunteering to do this work. The fact of the matter is, we need you and we appreciate you being here.”

  Daisy thought he’d make a good politician someday. Nixon, though, remained unreadable but for the slight hardening of his jaw. Heads nodded, the girls sat up straighter in their chairs and a few spoke up.

  “We’re here for you.”

  “They’d have to drag my dead body off this island.”

  “Duty calls.”

  Thelma, front and center, said, “You can count on us, Lieutenant. For anything.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

  Ma’am?

  Skinner, a sun-tanned blond with bright green eyes, stood next to him and added, “I know that they’ve been holding out on you with this last job, and even that some guys think you can’t hack it. That’s why we wanted to come talk to you in person.”