Jeb, looking out the window, took note that the cloud had grown even larger. The thought even occurred to him that a bomb might have exploded near Hiroshima, but he knew no amount of TNT could make a cloud that enormous. “I don’t think you should go to work.” He said.
“But I must.” There was a look of fear on Yasmin’s face. She too felt something was terribly wrong, but she had no idea what.
“Can you check with a neighbor?”
“I will try.” She picked up the telephone receiver from the cradle situated on an end table next to the sofa, and, apparently talking to an operator in Japanese, she asked for her neighbor’s number. Suddenly her face went white, and she dropped the phone on the hardwood floor. Her body followed as she fainted.
Jeb rushed to her side as her eyes opened, but with a blank stare. “What happened?” he said, as he cradled her head in his lap.
“It’s Hiroshima!”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?”
She looked up into his eyes, as she said, in little more than a whisper. “The whole city!”
“That’s impossible. Do you mean that a bomb struck the city? Where? What part?” and before she could answer, “Did it hit the prison?”
“I don’t know. The operator said the whole city is gone, evaporated.” She separated herself from his arms, and she rose saying, “I have to go to town. There must be many hurt.”
Jeb was thinking that with a bomb strong enough to produce the cloud he saw, and the trembling earth he felt, there was a good chance her father didn’t survive, unless he was well clear of the town when the bomb struck. But if that were the case he would be home by now. He looked up the road leading to the farm, but he saw nothing.
“I know you will have to see for yourself, but I wish you would stay here.” And he added, “You know I’d go if I could.” He knew she would be thinking of her father and he would have to let her go. ‘I’ll wait for your return if you must leave.”
He remained hidden in the farmhouse for the next three days. Yasmin had not returned, nor had her father. He couldn’t go looking for her. He didn’t want to start out walking west toward the sea until he knew she was safe, and what had really happened. He hoped she would return soon and give him the lowdown.
It was late in the afternoon of the third day that he saw her pickup truck coming slowly down the road toward him. He couldn’t help himself. He ran out to meet her. As they embraced she told him, with tears streaming from her eyes, “I never found my father. I asked some of the people on the streets who were just walking around in a daze, not knowing where to go, or what to do. None of them had seen the man I described, or they just wouldn’t talk.” She paused, looking away from Jeb briefly. Then as if talking to the wind and the trees, she continued. “I’m afraid he’s gone forever.” At that she fell back into his arms, crying softly.
Yasmin had been back two days when a small biplane passed over the farm. They had been out on the porch. At first Jeb had the feeling the plane would drop a bomb on them, but when he looked up he saw leaflets of paper drifting slowly toward earth. It was a strange sight. His curiosity got the better of him, and he ran to where one of the pieces of paper lay. He picked it up, but of course he couldn’t read the Japanese printing.
Yasmin joined him in the field, “James you must return to the house and hide from sight. What if someone were to see you here?”
“You’re right.” And as he turned to go back inside he reached out holding the leaflet. “Here, read this.”
She took the paper from him, and began to read. “It is a proclamation. The war is over!”
“It can’t be.”
“No. Listen. It tells soldiers to lay down their arms, return to their homes and wait for further instructions.”
Jeb was incredulous. He would really be free. Then the realization struck him that he was in the middle of nowhere. He could still be in danger from some angry person with a gun who realized he shouldn’t be there.
It was decided Yasmin would drive him back to the prison camp. Surely a plan would be in place by then to repatriate the prisoners. He had no idea what he would find when he reached the prison gate.
They decided to wait until the next morning to start out. They planned on reaching the compound around noon.
Neither of them slept that night. They were restless, tossing and turning, then reaching out for the other and holding on, both realizing somehow it would be the last time. They felt love, and the feeling was transferred into their passionate embraces. When the light of dawn filtered through the curtains of her bedroom she cried, and held him tight, hoping to stop time but knowing she couldn’t.
They dressed silently, each stealing glances at the other. This was a day that should be celebrated, the first full day of peace, yet all they felt was sorrow. With the war there’d been an urgency, to live life to its fullest, because tomorrow was not promised. Now that tomorrow, though it would arrive, would be less, because Yasmin would not have him, and he would be unable to reach across the ocean barrier to find her.
Chapter Twenty-two
When they reached the prison compound there were no guards at the gate. Inside a truck with a large bed was being loaded with Americans, Australians, and a few Frenchmen. The men in charge were in civilian clothes. There were no Japanese soldiers anywhere to be seen.
Yasmin and Jeb kissed, for what each believed would be the last time, before he climbed aboard the truck. They knew the scene awaiting them would be hectic, and they had said their goodbyes before arriving at the gate.
She turned away not wanting him to see her cry. He glanced her way after finding an empty spot, but she never looked back, not until the truck had almost disappeared down the dusty dirt road for a rendezvous with a plane that would carry her lover far from the Asian shores.
They were driven over dusty dirt roads to an airfield about twenty miles from the prison compound, away from the direction of Hiroshima, where a U.S. Army Air Force C-46 transport awaited. They had to wait for a second truck to arrive from thesame compound before lifting off.
The plane made a refueling stop on Guam. The passengers barely had time to stretch their legs before they were off again for a second stop at Midway. There was much devastation at both locations to remind them of the war that had just concluded. In sharp contrast to the chaos of conflict, the flight to Pearl Harbor was serene for the most part. The aircraft that had logged many hours in the air shuttered and shook, but the passengers hardly noticed. There was a thunderous cheer as the plane touched down at the naval airfield on Pearl.
Anne Priestley waited anxiously at the military airport. She’d been notified that the plane from Japan carrying her husband should arrive shortly after noon on Monday August thirteenth, just four days after hostilities ended. She didn’t know what to expect. It was early in 1942 in San Diego when they’d said goodbye, she and her husband, and he’d left for the war. They’d only had the one day of married life together.
She’d thought she lost him when word of the sinking of his ship in the Coral Sea had reached her. He was listed as missing in action and presumed dead. There’d only been fourteen survivors from a crew of one hundred and ninety-two. She’d sought out one of the officers who’d returned to Pearl after being rescued from the sea. He told her he hadn’t seen Jim Priestley in the water. The last he knew, the lieutenant-commander was directing traffic on the deck, trying to make sure everyone got off the dying ship, at least the section he’d been on. It had already split apart. The lieutenant she talked to didn’t know if her husband had been hurt or not.
So now she would learn all the answers. Did her husband still love her? Had he been wounded? What was life like in the prison camp? Was he tortured? There were so many things to talk about.
As she waited at the short fence separating the visitors from the tarmac where the plane would soon taxi, Anne Jamison Dunnopolous Priestley reminisced about all that had g
one before in her life.
She’d had a very proper upbringing in a small Boston suburb, before leaving home to explore the country, and hopefully find a husband to share her life. She was all of eighteen, and just graduated high school when she took the train to Chicago and a secretarial job. She hadn’t been in the windy city a full year before she met Ivan Dunnopolous. He was a friend of a friend, and he swept her off her feet, so to speak. To her he was very handsome and tall from her five foot four standpoint. He had very dark curly hair, which she later found extended to his chest. He had a nearly paper-thin mustache, which made him look debonair, sort of like a movie star, at least to her. They were married less than six months after first meeting. He was old enough to know better but she had stars in her eyes. She found out later that he was more immature than her, and the marriage ended just before America was forced to enter the war.
She met Jim Priestley in San Diego where she had gone to help with the war effort, by working in a factory making airplanes. She’d gone with a girlfriend to have a drink at a popular watering hole near the aircraft plant on Pacific Highway. He was there in his dress blue Navy uniform, with gold oak leaf clusters on his shoulder boards. He was very dashing. He asked her to dance, and she agreed. She also accepted his proposal of marriage just three days later. A w arwas on you know. Everything was accelerated.
After his ship left for the Pacific theater, she returned to the apartment they had rented in the Hillcrest district. She kept busy with her work. When she received word that her husband was missing, she returned briefly to Massachusetts to stay with her parents and contemplate what direction her life would next take. Her grief was short-lived because she really didn’t know the man she had married.
Now standing near where they would finally meet, she was apprehensive to say the least. Would she feel love when she finally saw him again or would he be just a stranger?
As the plane taxied toward the terminal building Jeb noticed the large crowd of people gathered behind the barrier. It hadn’t occurred to him that someone might be waiting for James Priestley. He was still wearing the clothes Yasmin had given him that belonged to her father. There was a slight hint of her perfume, or maybe it was just his imagination.
They filed off the plane and walked single-file toward the flock of people. As they passed through the gate Jeb tensed. The feeling he might be exposed as a fraud swept over him and he felt weak.
His legs were rubbery as he walked by a pretty young woman who was intently studying the face of each man as he passed. She showed no recognition of Jeb, nor he of her. It was Anne Priestley.
Chapter Twenty-three
Shortly after arriving back on American soil Jeb received word that he was to report to military headquarters to be mustered out of the Navy. Being a Naval Reservist, he would be deactivated but remain in the Reserve for two years, available for recall. He would be issued a new ID card to replace the one lost at sea.
When he checked in they took a new ID picture and informed him he could return in two days to pick up his card.
When he went back to the headquarters personnel office, he was given the card with the new picture. He was officially James Priestley, Lieutenant Commander, USNR inactive. Apparently no one was aware of his deception.
As he was leaving a yeoman first class petty officer sitting at a desk nearby stopped him. “Did you hook up with your wife?” He asked.
“What do you mean? Is she here in Honolulu?” Jeb replied, shocked.
“Yeah. Good looking broad, uh woman. Sorry.”
“That’s all right sailor,” he was getting the hang of being an officer. “Did she leave an address?”
“Yes sir,” the white hat said, embarrassed. “I have her billet right here,” he said, retrieving the information from one of his drawers. “She’s at 229 Embly Court in Honolulu.”
Back where he was billeted at BOQ (Bachelor Officer’s Quarters) on the base, Jeb had an attack of conscience. The woman must be frantic, not being able to locate her husband. Perhaps they’d even seen each other at the airport. He wondered what she looked like. He pulled the paper with her address from his uniform pants pocket. At that point he knew he would have to see her, and fill her in on her husband’s last days.
He had no car, so he took a city bus to within a block of where she was staying, according to the note. After walking to the address he stood outside just looking at the bungalow and wondering if he was doing the right thing. Perhaps it was better for both of them if she didn’t know what transpired in that small boat adrift on the Coral Sea. He would surely be exposed and she would be heartbroken.
He stood there on the sidewalk for perhaps five minutes before strolling up the walk to her door. He rang the bell.
Jeb was surprised when a very attractive woman whom he guessed still to be in her twenties, answered his ring.
“Yes,” she said, obviously confused as to why an officer she didn’t recognize would be calling on her. He wore the same uniform as her husband. He seemed vaguely familiar somehow, with his pointed jaw that jutted out slightly, rather lincolnesque she thought, and his curly hair, which she noticed as he removed his gold-braided hat. He certainly wasn’t Jim that’s for sure. She did have the feeling she’d seen him before, but she couldn’t put him with a time and place.
“Mrs. Priestley?” He wasn’t sure how to begin. “My name is Jeb Lee. I knew your husband.” He just blurted it out. His voice was deep, like Jim’s.
She smiled, but it was a wary smile, “Oh, won’t you come in?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She waved him to a seat in a chair near the door. He sat down. His next hour would be worse than any he spent in captivity.
“I’m not sure where to begin.”
“The beginning would be a good place. How do you know my husband?”
It was now or never, “We shared a lifeboat together.”
She had been standing, but now she moved to another chair next to Jeb and sat down. “Go on.” She leaned slightly forward, her eyes never leaving his. Her hands began to shake.
“He’s dead Mrs. Priestley.” Might as well get it out. That’s what you came for isn’t it?
She slumped in her chair. But she must not believe what this stranger was saying. “He can’t be dead. He was on that plane, you see? I just missed him somehow.” Even as she said it she at once knew that it could be true. Otherwise she would have seen him. There’d be no reason to avoid her. “Tell me what happened.” Now she avoided his gaze by staring at the linoleum floor, tears forming in her eyes.
Suddenly Jeb felt so sorry for this broken woman across from him, he hesitated. Was he doing the right thing? “I’m sorry Mrs. Priestley, I just don’t want you waiting for him to show up when that’s not possible.”
“I understand.” She didn’t really. She didn’t understand any of what this stranger was telling her.
Jeb continued, “He saved my life. I’d been blown into the sea by an explosion aboard ship. I was unconscious, and I would have drowned, but your husband pulled me to safety aboard the lifeboat he was in.” He paused. He was reliving what happened as he was relating it. “When I woke up I noticed he was bleeding from a wound to his stomach. It looked bad. He told me he’d been hit by shrapnel when the ship took a bomb, probably the one that ripped it apart.”
He looked at her. Her moist eyes had come away from the floor, and she was looking intently at him now.
He continued, “He died during the night while I slept. There was nothing I could do.” Now comes the hard part. “I knew that if I was captured it would go hard on me, being an enlisted man. I was only a seaman you see.” It wasn’t a question. “I changed uniforms with your husband, feeling I would be treated better, and that I was less likely to be shot immediately. It was a very selfish thing to do, but I thought at the time Commander Priestley wouldn’t care. He might even condone it if he were alive.” That was a reach; a way to remove the strong feeling of guilt that had engulfed him.
“I know.” Now it was his turn to lower his eyes. “I did give him a decent burial at sea.”
Now she was crying openly, deep racking sobs that must have hurt. When the tears subsided she asked him, “What do you expect me to do with this information?”
Feeling sympathy he reached for her hand but she pulled away. “Actually I’m throwing myself on your mercy.” As he said it he reached up and unclasped the chain holding the dogtags around his neck. Handing them to the widow, he said, “You have no way of knowing, but I never disgraced these while I was wearing them.”
When he left her cottage there was no indication whether she would report him, thereby assuring he would spend the next few years in the brig, or let him go, figuring correctly he was suffering enough with the knowledge of what he’d done.
Chapter Twenty-four
I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the murder of our neighbor, and it was all mixed in with seeing that strange guy at the wedding in Tokyo. Could they be connected? I’d never seen the guy before, I was sure of that. And it didn’t really compute that he would kill Mister Summers. There obviously were things I didn’t know that might tie this whole thing together. The sorry thing was, I had no idea how to find out the information I would need to solve the case.
Of course I could rely on The San Diego Sheriff’s detective, Everett Paulsen to do all the hard work, and I was sure he was competent. Hell he, along with the lawyer, had gotten me released, so he couldn’t be all bad. Still, I would like the answer to present itself to me, so I could feel like I knew what I was doing.
In my restlessness I turned over in bed to face Rachel, and she stirred. “Go back to sleep my love. It’s only a little after midnight.”
“I wouldn’t have to go back to sleep if you hadn’t woke me.” It sounded like she was teasing, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe she was having a good dream, and I disturbed that. “Are you mad?”
Return from the Shadows-Ivan Dunn the Final Chapter Page 8
