He eyed her suspiciously. “What’s this about?”
“I have a situation I need advice on.”
“From me?”
She nodded. “From you, sir.”
When they opened the door and he saw Fluff standing at his desk next to a basket with a big red bow on it, he stopped short and grumbled. “Whatever you’ve got there, you can just take it back out the door. I don’t need any presents.”
Fluff looked hurt. “But, sir, it’s your birthday. We went through a lot of trouble to find this, and think you’re going to love it. So much so, that your life will be forever changed.”
He stood ramrod straight. Daisy thought for sure he was going to insist they leave, but he said, “You ladies are a persistent bunch, aren’t you?”
“When it comes to things we believe in—and people that matter to us,” Daisy said.
He tensed.
“Come have a look!”
Nixon walked over to the basket, his neck red but not as flared up as it once had been. A second before he lifted the top, a tiny meow escaped. Fluff shot Daisy a worried look.
“Don’t tell me there’s a live animal in here,” he said.
In one fell swoop, Daisy walked over and undid the bow, pulling Cozy out and setting her on his desk. All gray with a crooked tail, she was quite possibly the cutest of the litter.
“Colonel Nixon, meet Cozy. And Cozy, this is Colonel Nixon,” Fluff said. Daisy held her breath as Cozy scampered across the desk toward the edge. Nixon scooped her up just before she went over, holding her up at eye level.
“That’s a long way down for such a small creature,” he said to Cozy.
“You’re not allergic, are you?” Daisy asked.
“Lucky for you, no.”
“I know it might seem like extra work for you right now, but the kitten needs a home and you are the perfect candidate. We know from experience that having an animal around is the best antidote for...” Fluff paused for a moment. “Well, for anything really. Aren’t I right, Daisy?”
Daisy nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. They are automatic morale boosters.”
Nixon set Cozy down again, and this time she sat and gazed up at him. He could not tear his eyes away, and yet he said, “I can’t take care of a cat. Sorry to disappoint you, ladies.”
Fluff wasn’t having it. “Cats don’t need much. For a little food and water, they give you love and companionship.”
“We can help when you need it. And what if you brought her into work with you? To keep the rats away. Or she could be our mascot, like all of those dogs in Europe,” Daisy said.
“This isn’t a dog.”
“A mascot doesn’t have to be a dog. I’ve heard of donkeys or monkeys or even a lamb. Cozy would be perfect,” Daisy said.
“Just hold her for a few minutes. Then decide,” Fluff said.
Nixon appeared to be waging an inner battle, hemming and hawing. But he did pick up Cozy and brought her in close against his chest. He rubbed her cheek and Cozy turned up her purrs.
With surprising tenderness, he said, “You like that, huh?”
Fluff winked at Daisy. He had no chance.
* * *
After the visit to Daisy’s shack, Fluff had torn through The Great Gatsby in record speed, even though it was her third go-through. In doing so, she became firmly attached to a notion.
“All those lavish parties. How brilliant would it have been to catch a Follies show?” Fluff said, nodding dreamily. “Say, we ought to throw a party. We can invite everyone at Lizard and all the Oscars.”
“In the dark?” Daisy asked.
“Nor is our house quite Gatsby’s mansion,” Betty said.
Fluff smiled. “No, but you know whose is? Jackie Sweet! I bet she would go for having one. Her family has that giant beach house in Niu Valley. Think what good a party would do everyone right now.”
Jackie Sweet, it turned out, loved the idea, and Fluff began making arrangements on the double. “We’ll plan it for a full-moon night and have it out on the lawn. Uncle T and his band can play. Of course, people will have to bring their own booze. We’ll begin early because of curfew.” In the coming days, Fluff spent more and more time planning the party despite warnings of an impending attack or invasion. They set the date for May 26, a Tuesday. In their world, weekends were whenever you had days off. One evening, Fluff set up the kitchen table as an invitation station, where they copied card after card. Fluff had created the drawing herself and outlined it with a flower lei.
You are cordially invited to the
MOONLIGHT PARTY
to be given by
Fox King, Jig Sail and fellow
VECTOROLOGISTS
Blackout Passes and Homing Vectors Will Be Provided
The invite was catchy, with a no-snafu map to Jackie’s beach house—which they called the Objective—and signs posted on coconut trees warning of Bogeys in the Bushes. Daisy and Betty diligently copied invitations until their palms were black with ink. As they worked, they listened to Radio Tokyo.
Back at Little Robert, they had been warned of the Japanese propaganda broadcasts, but that only made them more intrigued. Betty had rounded up an old shortwave radio from one of Chuck’s buddies and so began their new nightly hobby—SWL’ing, a.k.a. shortwave radio listening. According to Hochman, you could not trust a word they said.
“But they sound so earnest,” Fluff said.
“Why do you think they call it propaganda? It’s meant to pluck your heartstrings,” Betty said.
The Japanese were smart. They’d found a few English-speaking women to host the programs and relay the messages, which for some reason made them sound more heartfelt. And in recent weeks, American prisoners of war themselves had begun to read messages to their families back home. The show had suddenly become a whole lot more interesting. Coming from far across the sea, the reception was remarkably clear. But there was a false cheer leaking out from between the lines that did not match the firsthand accounts coming out of Japan.
“Hello, Mom, Dad and everyone... I hope you are well and happy. I am in good health and so far all right... I wish more than anything I could hear from you... We are taken good care of here. It’s plenty warm, and the food is fine. Have Lana and Grant married yet? And Stella, tell her I miss her. Jack, too. I hope we will all be together soon and I pray for you every day. Please write! Your loving son, Felix.”
It worked, to a certain degree. Daisy and the gals found themselves unable to pull away from the radio. When the announcer came on to read names, Betty always fanned herself with a magazine, leaned in and scarcely breathed.
“I know chances are slim, but a chance is a chance,” she said on that first night.
Daisy would have done the same thing in her shoes. Hardly a day went by where Daisy did not think of her father. The fractures in her heart may have mended some, but they were still there, swollen and sore.
“I will listen with you every single night of this war, if it helps,” Daisy told her.
“Me, too,” said Fluff.
It was far easier to want to believe these stories than the ones they read about in the papers, where Americans were whipped to death and scalped with bayonets. Daisy and Fluff always tried to hide the paper from Betty when there was any mention of this kind of treatment. It was enough to cause Daisy to break out in a cold sweat, but it would ruin Betty.
* * *
During the next week, tension at Lizard rose even higher, if that was possible. Strict radio silence was ordered by Admiral Nimitz for any ship entering Pearl or plane coming in for landing. The Japanese had apparently been listening in on ground-to-air chatter, and through it learning of US carrier movements. When Nixon heard the order, he slammed his clipboard into the wall in a rare display of emotion.
“How do they expect us to do our job?�
� he grumbled to Hochman.
Delicately, as it turned out. The air force bombers and flying boats were still performing their scouting missions toward Midway, and most already knew the drill. Though air traffic was heavy, pilots had stepped up reporting their flights. Every now and then, though, a pilot for whatever reason did not follow protocol, and was required to break radio silence. Nixon made sure those got a talking-to.
Despite all of the added pressure, Daisy and the filterers managed their flights with cool heads and great accuracy. The military liaisons at Lizard had doubled and now more than ever they were on the alert for anything out of the ordinary. Most planes flew in established flight patterns, so a Japanese fleet should be hard to miss. Daisy was determined there would be no more foul-ups like Station Opana on December 7.
On the day of the party, Daisy received a call from Cheerio. “Morning, Rascal, looks like we’ve got a possible CV incoming, two seven zero. Thirty miles out.”
CV was military speak for an aircraft carrier.
Normally, contact would have been made by now. “Roger. Is she alone?”
“Affirmative.”
When Daisy hung up, Thelma sensed her excitement. “What is it?”
“Maybe a carrier.”
The word caused a ripple through her body. An airplane girl through and through, Daisy had never been impressed with ships—until she’d seen an aircraft carrier. That such a massive object could float was a major feat of engineering. Then throw on ninety or so aircraft and a couple of thousand sailors and send her out into the open ocean. Anyone would be hard-pressed not to get choked up watching one come into port.
After the second reading, which brought the object directly in line with Pearl Harbor, Daisy ran to Nixon. “We have a CV coming into Pearl!” she said.
Nixon conferred with Owens and then made an announcement. “The Hornet is on her way in. She was badly damaged by an armor-piercing bomb. A plane flew in word yesterday to Nimitz.”
“Yesterday?” Daisy asked.
“Everything’s on a need-to-know basis. You know that.”
Daisy felt the sting of disappointment. She hated waiting, hated the feeling of helplessness, hated this whole stupid war. And she wasn’t even a wife, so no one would be waiting for her at the house if anything had happened to Walker. No one would even think to tell her.
* * *
To keep herself distracted that afternoon, Daisy joined Fluff and Jackie and a few other gals setting up the beach house for the party. Whoever built the Sweet beach house knew a thing or two about design. A two-story, white affair with long eaves and sprawling porches, the place was about as perfectly situated as a house could be. Set back from the water, amid heart-shaped milo trees and trellises of hao, it oozed of lazy days and starlit nights. Thick, green lawn stretched to the water’s edge.
They set up clusters of chairs, tied red ginger and ti leaves to the coconut trees, and created an assembly line where they fixed egg salad and tuna sandwiches full of garlic pickle relish that Betty had made. Lei had promised to bring trays of sweet potato mac salad. Mayonnaise was hard to come by, but Jackie had befriended one of the cooks at the officers’ mess hall, and he had snuck her two large jars. Everything could be found if you were diligent enough, or knew the right person. Even butter. Even beer.
“I know we said BYOB on the invite, but we can’t have a party for the boys without supplying some beer,” Fluff had said.
Once they were finished setting up, they all went into the guest cottage and showered and changed. Watching the other gals dress and primp still fascinated Daisy. While she had let her hair grow out a bit, it came to just below her ears and required little styling. Same with her dress. Simple, yellow and without frills. Betty had loaned it to her. Though it did fit snuggly and adhere to what little curves she had. Fluff wore a stylish aloha print dress with a wide skirt, and Jackie an A-line seersucker. Jackie was finishing up her last year at university with Fluff, and her father imported automobiles. She was tiny and blonde and danced a mean hula. Everyone adored her.
Fluff handed Daisy the lipstick tube. “We all have to wear this. I know you don’t like it, but do it for me.”
“No, thank you,” Daisy said.
“How about for the boys, then? A screw you to Hitler.”
“You know how I feel about it.”
“Just a dab.”
Maybe it was time to play along, and make her friend happy. Teamwork, she was coming to see, required seeing things with a different lens. Daisy took the tube and painted her lips a fire-engine red. It tasted like crap.
“There, victory lips. How do I look?”
Jackie whistled. “I predict you’re going to have a line of men following you around tonight.”
“She only has eyes for one, and he’s not on the island,” Fluff said.
Guests began trickling in at around five. They had invited officers from Lizard and Shafter, a few of Chuck’s friends from the naval yard, as well as boyfriends and husbands of WARDs. Even Nixon got an invite, though whether he’d come or not was a hot topic for debate. Daisy knew he wouldn’t. Uncle T had set up with two other Hawaiian men under the hao trellis, sending steel guitar notes through the balmy afternoon. You’d never know a war was raging through much of the Pacific.
Not big on small talk, Daisy found herself awkwardly moving from group to group, always on the fringe of conversation. She wished she could share in the cheer, but her heart wasn’t in it. Most of the buzz surrounded the Hornet and the sinking of the Lexington, but then she overheard something that stopped her in her tracks. Two men were standing near a small canoe that had been filled with beer and blocks of ice.
“They gotta repair her on the double. Otherwise Enterprise is the only flattop we’ve got for this next round,” one said.
The other held up a bottle and clinked it against his friend’s. “Watching her come into Pearl today was something else. Got me all choked up.”
Daisy stepped closer. “Excuse me, did you say the Enterprise came into Pearl today?”
The man smiled. “Hello, sunshine, and who are you?”
He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him. “Daisy Wilder, sir.”
His friend answered. “She rolled in at around 1500 hours.”
She thanked them and hurried off to find Fluff or Betty or Lei. Within the last fifteen minutes, the crowd had thickened, but she finally spotted Fluff standing off to the side of the musicians, singing along. Daisy grabbed her arm and pulled her to where they could hear.
“The Enterprise is back!” she said.
Fluff’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“They came in two hours after we left Lizard.”
“Well, you know what that means!”
“What?”
“Walker will be here. I just know it. Peg is coming to the party and Peg will tell Walker and Walker will be dying to see you and he’ll come. Remember what he said last time? That he thought about you the whole time he was away?”
“Yes, but this time is different.”
“Listen to me. They say that in times of distress, the heart takes over. The only thing he’ll remember is how he feels about you. And I can guarantee you, whatever he feels grew stronger while he was away.”
But here were so many ifs involved. “What if he didn’t—”
“Stop, I don’t want to hear it!” A new song started up and Fluff pulled her out onto a grassy clearing. “Dance with me and forget about everything else, if only for a song.”
Daisy was not a dancer. In fact, as an adult, she had never once had the opportunity to dance. “I can’t.”
“For someone so smart, you sure have a lot of limitations,” Fluff said, not letting go of her wrist. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
They were barefoot, and the thick grass felt good against her soles. She took
the last sip of the beer that someone had handed her earlier, and set it on a stump. Fluff was already hopping around and swinging her hips. Watching her, Daisy felt as graceful as a two-by-four.
“Relax, it’s supposed to be fun,” Fluff told her, just as Betty came over and joined in.
Within thirty seconds, the whole grassy area filled up with wiggling bodies. It took some time, but Daisy began to loosen. Maybe it was the beer, or maybe the carefree energy that moved around her. A brief window into normalcy. Though attending parties was far from her normal.
They danced a few songs and then went to cool off near the fishpond. The sun had just fallen behind Diamond Head, creating an orange halo around its flanks.
Betty had begun swatting at her arms and legs. “These mosquitoes will be the death of me.”
“I seem to be immune,” Daisy said.
“They would have me for breakfast, lunch and dinner if they could. I can already tell I’ll be up all night scratching my ankles,” Fluff said, then nodded toward the entrance. “Say, look, here comes a new batch of fellas.”
A group of uniformed men walked across the lawn. The way they walked, all attitude and swagger, you’d have thought they owned the place.
“Pilots,” Betty said.
Daisy went on high alert, but even from a distance, she could tell none of them was Walker. Suddenly, from behind, a voice said, “Someone told us this pond is full of moray eels. You gals seen any?”
That voice.
Fluff must have recognized it too, because she swung around. “Say something else,” she ordered.
The man had shockingly blue eyes and an easy smile. “Rascal, we are on the hunt for unidentified subs in these waters. Any sightings?”
“You’re Cheerio,” Fluff said softly, as though he’d just walked in off the water.
He winked. “The one and only. And which lovely Rascals are you?”
The girls all introduced themselves, with Fluff turning a whole shade darker. She had such a radiant inner light, it was hard to imagine every man not falling in love with her. Except that Fluff did not believe she was worthy, and therefore attracted the wrong kind of man. A simple law of human nature.
Radar Girls Page 25
