Beyond the Horizon

by Ella Carey

  Eva went to a booth in the window overlooking the high school they’d all gone to. A waitress poured them coffee from a glass pot.

  The girl blushed when Harry flashed her a smile.

  He turned to Eva once the waitress was out of earshot. “Evie. There is something I have to tell you. I hope that you will . . . understand.”

  Eva stared at him, feeling her eyes widening into two huge pools. “What is it?” She was going to have to sit through whatever this was.

  “The navy is planning a strike.”

  “I see. Harry, I know you’re the best pilot there is, but please, be careful.”

  Harry stared at her hand. Something crossed his face for a moment, and after a second, he reached out all of a sudden, covering her hand with his own.

  “Recently, a small task force struck the Japanese naval base at Rabaul and damaged several warships. A far larger strike is being planned, with four other carriers involved.”

  Eva looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

  “Rabaul is the major enemy base in the South Pacific.”

  “When do you leave?” She pushed her cup of coffee away.

  He lowered his voice. “First thing in the morning, Evie. I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

  “Harry—”

  “Would you folks like something more than coffee? Doughnuts, a biscuit?” The waitress was back, making eyes at Harry.

  “I can’t eat,” Eva said.

  “I’ll have a doughnut,” Harry said. “And I’ll get some toast and a milkshake for my friend here. You still like chocolate malt, right? Texas didn’t change that? I told your mom I’d buy you breakfast, sweetheart, and a promise is something I always stick to.” He dropped his voice, and Eva’s heart froze. He still held her hand. “Evie, our skipper is a veteran dive-bomber who flew at Midway and Santa Cruz.”

  “What’s your squadron’s record like?”

  He frowned for a moment. “Don’t tell Lucille what I’m about to say. But you’re a pilot, you understand.”

  She turned back to him, incredulous. “Not when it comes to you.” She punched the words out. “Not when it comes to you.”

  “Here we are!” The waitress placed their order down on the table. “Doughnuts were made fresh this morning.”

  “Thank you,” Harry said. His eyes held on to Eva’s and did not move. “Evie,” he went on when the waitress had gone. “Don’t.”

  “I’m not just a pilot,” she said, her words threading like a silk ribbon between them, flying so close, yet not touching them.

  “I know that. But you understand.”

  And then she nodded. In a different way from Jack, Harry needed her to be strong. He needed her to be what Lucille could not be, and he needed her to understand.

  “Tell me what you want to say.”

  “The SB2Cs had major structural problems. In one incident, the whole tail section separated from the plane.”

  Eva stared at her toast.

  “I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to worry. I want you to know that while we are flying them, we’ve taken steps. We have a new maintenance officer to serve with our crew. He has intimate knowledge of the planes.” He looked at her, searching her face, as if trying to seek her reassurance.

  She sensed his own thread of fear. “I have faith in you, Harry,” she said. She wanted to say what he wanted to hear. “You know how to check a plane. And you are the best pilot I know.”

  “The fact is, I’m much more worried about you,” he said.

  “No,” she breathed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He leaned forward. “We need to talk about Camp Davis. Your mechanics there will have to deal with multiple aircraft, and the shortages of properly trained mechanics are rife on the bases, with so many men at war.”

  “We’re all dealing with the circumstances of war.”

  “No. Insist on checking the planes yourself before you fly. Please. Both of you. You and Nina.”

  “Harry, the fact is, I’m going to be towing targets around while men shoot at me. That’s a little different from what you’re doing—”

  “There’s something else I want to talk to you about. Something I need to say.”

  She knew she’d be ill if she ate a bite of food.

  He frowned. “I decided to make a commitment to Lucille. I’ve asked her to marry me, and she’s said yes. I . . .” His voice drifted off.

  Eva was silent. The implications of what he’d just said took slow shape in her mind like a Texan storm brewing in a thunderous sky.

  “I couldn’t go away after this break and leave her not knowing where she stood. And her father—”

  “You sound like you’re justifying it. You don’t need to explain your reasons to me. Honestly, this is your decision.”

  “I’m not doing that. Evie, I . . .”

  Eva wanted to walk out of there and scream in the street. She wanted Harry to ask her to marry him; she wanted Harry to tell her she was the one; she wanted Harry to share his deepest fears and his dreams with her, for every night of whatever was left of their lives. And she wanted to wipe out this entire conversation with one of her mom’s feather dusters as if it had never, ever happened after all.

  “Well then,” she said. “Congratulations.” Annoyingly, heartbreakingly, tears wanted to pool in her eyes. She turned away from him, swiping at her cheeks.

  “We’ll announce it officially when I return. I didn’t want you to hear it from . . .”

  Lucille? Neither of them uttered her name.

  “I know how girls can be.”

  Eva did not look at him. “I should get going. I’m sorry, I’m unable to eat right now. I’ll pay for my own breakfast.”

  He stood up.

  She stood up too, and handed him a dollar.

  His mouth worked. “No, Evie.” He shook his head at the money.

  Until suddenly, he grabbed her into an awkward, lopsided embrace. Closing her eyes, scrunching them tight so that the tears that threatened to wreck her composure did not tumble out, she leaned against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of him. Then she pulled away as fast as she’d fallen into him.

  She looked down. She was still clutching his hand.

  Silently, Eva pulled his fist to her heart. Then let go of it, letting it fall down between them.

  Somehow, this goodbye felt like the last note in what had been a beautiful song.

  “Be safe. Take care of yourself.”

  His eyes searched her face.

  “Just survive this darned war,” she said. “Because I can’t deal with—”

  “Please, sweetheart—”

  She turned, raising a hand behind her.

  “Evie?” That upward lilt in her name rent her heart in two, but she could not turn right back around and tell him everything she felt, knew, dreamed.

  He loved Lucille. Enough to marry her.

  Head down, she hurtled out the door.

  Eva spent that night staring at her ceiling. She may have blinked, but she did not doze. When dawn broke, cracks of yellow light slipping around her blackout curtains, she pulled them open and allowed the sunlight to stream through the glass.

  Harry would have gone to the Pacific by now.

  Eva got up and showered and dressed.

  Nina was taking Rita to the beaches, to Santa Monica, to show her around. Eva finally wound up at her dressing table. She ran a brush through her hair.

  “Eva?” her mom called. “Jack is at the door.”

  Eva stilled her brush.

  Jack.

  She gathered herself and made her slow journey down the hallway.

  Her mom came to meet her halfway. Eva’s dad was out on the porch, chatting with Jack.

  Eva’s mom stopped her, reaching out to hold her by the arm. “Eva, Jack Forrest is fond of you. And he’s rich.”

  Eva closed her eyes. “Not now, Mom. Harry’s gone to war.”

  Her mom’s sigh was audible. “I know, dear. I understand
.”

  Eva’s hands shook by her sides.

  “But, dearest, you could do far worse than marry a man from Hancock Park. Don’t let your feelings for Harry cloud your common sense.”

  “Mom.” Eva’s voice was dangerous and low. “Believe me, marriage is the last thing I want to talk about today.” She went past her mom to the front door.

  “Hello there.” Jack was leaning against the veranda post in blue jeans and a white shirt.

  “Hey.” Eva hovered at the doorway, suddenly self-conscious when her dad turned around and smiled at her. He looked as excited as her mom was to see Jack.

  Her heart plummeted to the red sandals she wore.

  “Feel like a drive?” he said. “I’m not filming today.”

  The sound of an airplane buzzed overhead.

  Jack rattled his car keys, his face breaking into a wide smile. “How does that sound? Unless you got different plans. I was a bit presumptuous coming over here without calling, but I couldn’t resist the temptation, and it’s a beautiful, sunny day.”

  “I’ll let you two make plans.” Eva’s dad moved toward the front door. On his way past Eva, he patted her on the head as if she were a little girl.

  Eva stood on the threshold, her arms wrapped around her body.

  “I thought you might like a spin in my car?”

  After a few moments, she shrugged. “Sure, Jack. I’m happy to come for a drive with you.”

  “Well then, what’re we waiting for?” he said.

  A few locals turned and stared at Eva and Jack cruising through Burbank in his dad’s cream Chevrolet. Was his family experiencing the war at all?

  Jack’s hand rested on the steering wheel. “It’s delightful, Eva, that you are happy and willing to jump in my car when I call, but I’m bursting to tell you where we’re going.”

  Eva kept her gaze focused on the road. What would happen when Harry got to Rabaul? Perhaps the ship’s chaplain would say a prayer for them all. And he’d stand there with his squadron, straight and tall, before they all roared off into the sky. “Where did you want to go, Jack?”

  He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. “Honey,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you that?”

  Eva turned to look out the window. “I guess that’s okay. In a friendly sense.”

  “I’d like to take you out to my set. I’m the villain in this particular picture.” He sounded a little shy. “I’d rather be the handsome hero, of course, but a credit’s a credit.”

  “I suppose it is better being the villain than nothing . . .” When Harry took off, would he wind his way through thunderclouds or a clear blue sky? What height would they have to go to before the dogfight started? Twelve thousand feet? That would be about right. Below, Japanese aircraft carriers would hover in the misty sea. And there’d be enemy planes. Dogfights.

  “I’m not needed on set today. Otherwise, I would have picked you up at five a.m. I thought that would be too presumptuous.” He laughed.

  Eva had been awake at five.

  Jack’s smooth Chevrolet made its steady way toward the beaches. They pulled up near the pier, and Eva threw open the car door. She ran ahead of him, across the lawn, toward the shore. The sea lay in front of her, blue and steady and beautiful.

  Soon Jack was right next to her. He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Eva, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You know that?”

  “Don’t be crazy,” she said in the sunshine, focusing on the azure sea. “You’re surrounded by movie stars.”

  “Movie stars are not the girls I want to date.”

  Eva kept her gaze on the water. Destroyers, cruisers, warships would all be below Harry. He’d dive down to, say, eight hundred feet, then open the bomb bays, throttle back, and nose over. The sounds of the exploding bombs would ricochet through the air, renting the quiet, rocking and concussing Harry’s plane. Then fire in the ocean and the sky full of Japanese Mitsubishis and Zekes, all come to protect their own.

  How many Helldivers would be lost? Under attack by the Japanese Zekes. All she could do was pray that his fellow pilots would come by if he needed them. She knew that in her dreams at night, she’d be willing him to get out of there at max speed.

  Eva stilled her thoughts. She knew too much.

  The sea sat so still in front of her eyes.

  Swiftly, Jack wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her.

  She startled a little.

  “You are nothing like the others, Eva,” he said.

  Eva pictured Lucille and her sophisticated Hancock Park allure. “But what about the girls you meet through your family in Hancock Park?”

  At that, he threw his handsome head backward. “You have no idea what those girls are like. I, you see, am a catch to them. If they are not plotting to marry me, their mothers are.”

  “I’m sure they are. You would hate that.”

  His eyes twinkled, and he took both her hands in his. “There is not one ounce of the mercenary in you.”

  She sighed at the thought of her mom.

  “The fact that you are off flying in the war. Well,” he said, “that salves my conscience. I’d like to be with someone who can do something, unlike me.” He pulled her closer, into his arms.

  “Oh, I’m only doing what little I can.”

  “I’m proud of you, Eva. Immensely so. And a little in awe.” He took her hand again, leading her toward the beach. “I don’t feel like our dates are like another audition to you. I’d love a girlfriend who is there for me, not one who wants to act and is self-absorbed.”

  “Oh.” Eva screwed up her nose at this strange compliment.

  The movie set was near the pier. A makeshift fence had been set up all around. Black tarpaulin was wrapped around it, and a security guard stood at the gate. Warner Brothers vans sat like black beetles in the parking lot.

  They made their way down toward the set, and Eva was silent, Jack pointing things out. When a young woman emerged from the gate, she came straight toward Jack and waved.

  “Jack, honey,” she said. “We might need you after all. Director wants to do another take of yesterday’s scene.”

  “Oh, honestly?” Jack said. “Celeste, meet Eva. Eva, Celeste Varini.”

  The red-haired girl held out an immaculate hand. “I’m charmed, Eva. Jack, where did you meet such a lovely girl?”

  “The Hollywood Roosevelt. At some ball. I was the lucky one to discover her.”

  Celeste’s eyes lit up. “You’re new in the industry?”

  Eva shook her head. “Not at all, although I think my mom would like it if I was.”

  “Really, honey?” Jack put on a drawl. “You’re tellin’ me she’s not proud of her girl flying airplanes in the war?”

  “You fly airplanes?” Celeste’s smile was accessorized with a dimple.

  “I do. I’m about to go to an air force camp in North Carolina and tow targets for our aviation trainees.”

  Celeste let out a high-pitched whistle. “Well, Jack. That’ll be full of flyboys. You’d best watch your back, with a girl as pretty as this.”

  “Oh, I know. Don’t worry, Celeste. I’m staking my claim right now.”

  Eva looked down at the sand.

  “Say, Eva, would you like to come have a look at the set?” Celeste asked. She held out an arm to Eva.

  “Why not?” Eva said. Everything seemed unreal, as if things were moving and she were standing still.

  “Celeste knows her way around,” Jack said. “I’ll go and check the production schedules and meet you afterward, Eva. I want to get you safely home.”

  Celeste wound her arm through Eva’s. “Come on. Let me show you how Jack’s world works.”

  Eva bit her lip, and she wrenched her thoughts and her gaze away from places and dreams that were beyond the horizon, to what was right here in front of her eyes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  THE COMMITTEE: Mrs. Forrest, are you here in the hope of attaining som
e sort of reparation for women who suffered during the war?

  EVA FORREST: That is not my intent. I am recalling the facts as they happened. But I do believe that I have shared with you all the ways in which I think we suffered what we would now see as discrimination, although we did not have that label back then. We just accepted our second-class status in society, and we did all the things men did without the benefits that men doing the same jobs were given. After the war, we accepted the way we were treated and went back to our traditional roles—many of us did, anyway. Now, with the air force announcing they are training women as pilots for the first time, we are here to show you that we flew too.

  Eva stood on the platform in the train station, her kit bag at her feet. Jack swept through the early-morning fog wearing a navy greatcoat, heading straight for her. Rita pretended to swoon. Jack bent down and kissed Eva, and a woman passing by stopped in her tracks and gaped.

  “I’ll think about you in the wilds of North Carolina,” he murmured.

  “And you can think of me while I’m flying in circles over Dismal Swamp.” Eva stepped back.

  Jack held her at arm’s length, and then he reached forward to tuck a tendril of Eva’s hair behind her ear. “You go fly for the both of us, Eva.”

  “We’re all doing our part as best we can,” she said.

  Rita and Nina were stealing glances at them. The grin on Rita’s face was as easy to read as an instrument panel on a baby PT-19A.

  “Goodbye, Jack,” Eva said. “It’s been a gas meeting you.”

  “Write to me?” he said, his hand lingering in hers.

  “Sure,” she said. “I will.”

  The train let out a great whistle. Her mother and father stepped forward from where they stood with Nina’s mom.

  “You stay safe in those airplanes.” Eva found herself buried in her mom’s favorite rose-scented perfume. “And remember, if ever you want out, you can come right back home,” her mom said.

  “Goodbye, Mom.”

  Jack pressed something into Eva’s hand.

  “Go on, honey,” he said. “Open this on the train.”