Farr stared. “On one of the ships?”
“It was a transport plane, coming in from Guam. We got—”
“You mean that C-54? The one that went down with all those civilians?”
Nye nodded. He could see where this was headed, and didn’t want to deal with it here.
Farr continued slowly. “They say there was a major on board. Did a pretty decent job of rescuing passengers. Made sure everyone got on the rafts OK. That was some good work, sir.”
“Everyone pitched in. The pilot did one hell of a job landing that crate in the lagoon.”
“There were some serious injuries. Some are right here in the hospital.”
Nye nodded again. He seemed to have lost his voice.
Farr squinted at his face, as if puzzled by his silence.
Nye stood abruptly, his food barely touched. “Are you finished here? Have you any plans for the afternoon?”
Farr looked up surprised, “No, sir. I’m still on medical leave. My number’s pretty low, so I’ll be here for a while before being processed out. I guess they’ll be putting me to work over in Communications next week, on the radios.”
“Do you have time for a walk? There’s someone I want you to see.”
Farr nodded. “Sure. Let me take a quick trip to the…” He grimaced. “Still got some of that damn Burma Belly.”
Nye waited outside, and Farr emerged a while later, his face pallid. He followed Nye over to the hospital. It was quiet and cool in the long corridors of the Quonset; the nurses moving efficiently alongside the beds, murmuring to the patients. They’d done a good job getting everything put back together.
They entered a tiny partitioned area, its sole occupant a young woman. She lay on the small cot, her dark hair strewn across the pillow. Her eyes were closed.
Farr gasped.
Nye gripped his shoulder. “Easy man. She’s unconscious. She was knocked out when the plane crashed and has been in a coma ever since.”
Farr had gone so pale Nye was afraid he would pass out. After guiding him out into the small waiting area, he sat him down, went to a table that held glasses and a pitcher, and poured him a drink.
Farr had regained a bit of color. “What the hell is she doing here?”
“She was with the road show, working as one of the chorus girls. They were on the plane.”
“She joined a road show? For the Far East?”
“Don’t be an ass, Farr. She said she was staying on after, to explore the islands in her search for Earhart, but you and I both know why she’s out here. They were headed to Burma before the crash.”
Farr’s pale face flushed a deep red.
Nye forced himself to continue. “The damnable thing is, I’m heading back to Guam. My leave is almost up. I’d like to continue keeping an eye on her, but…”
Farr jolted out of his thoughts. “Absolutely, sir. I’ll be here for a while. What is her prognosis? When’s she going to wake up?”
Nye did not want to get into the prognosis with Farr. “The doctor can fill you in on all the details. I don’t understand half of it myself.”
Farr nodded, his expression disorientated.
Nye urged the man to his feet. “Come with me. Rolf is over in the kennels.”
When they reached Rolf’s cage, the dog took one look at Farr and began running in tight circles, yelping and crying with delight, and urinating on the pavement.
Nye left Farr there and walked back to the barracks, hands jammed deep into his pockets. Well, this was it. It had to happen eventually. Just not here. Not now. He’d have to make up some excuse to the colonel who’d gotten the job for him, and get back to Guam. He hoped to hell he’d be able to get his other job back. That way, if she woke…
He paused, mentally correcting himself. When she woke, he wouldn’t have to say goodbye. It was a cowardly retreat on his part, he knew it. But he couldn’t bear to say goodbye.
* * *
Farr sat quietly by Katrinka’s bedside. The doctor and nurse were talking in the hallway, and their voices drifted in.
He comes in every day with the little dog, and just sits there by her bed. Is there any chance of her regaining consciousness?” asked the nurse.
The doctor frowned. “There is always a chance in these cases. All we can do is to monitor her progress. I would recommend evacuating, but she’s doing satisfactorily, and I’d rather wait until better transport becomes available. It will be a tricky journey to get her back to Guam.”
“Have any relatives been notified?”
“Her father lives in California. Major Nye cabled him. There are no other known relatives.”
The doctor left after consulting his charts, and the nurse departed a few minutes later.
Farr sat motionless at Katrinka’s bedside. This girl lying before him with her pale and unresponsive face, was all he had in the world. It was unthinkable that she might die. He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette, then reminded himself he was trying to quit. He recalled a time they’d been in bed together, and he’d lit one up. She’d surprised him by taking it from his fingers and putting it to her lips.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I did for a while, back at college. Would you like to see what I learned while there?” She’d never talked about that part of her life.
“Sure.”
She’d flopped on her back next to him, the cigarette in her hand. “They had a contest in my dormitory one evening to see who could blow the most smoke rings. I blew thirty-two in one breath.” She’d smiled in a satisfied way. “Of course, I won.”
“That’s impossible.”
“But it is true. I may not be able to blow quite so many now, as I am out of practice. Would you like to see?”
“Yeah, give it a try.”
He’d watched as she took a long pull on the cigarette, fascinated and aroused by the perfectly round ‘o’ her lips made. And one after another, in short little huffs, she’d proceeded to blow twenty-seven smoke rings. Sure, the last few were a little wobbly around the edges, but they were definitely smoke rings.
“Well, what do you think?”
“I’m thinking something disgusting and very male, that I’m not gonna share with you.”
She’d pounced on him. “Tell me.”
“I’d like to see what else you can blow with those delightful lips.”
So she’d showed him.
Farr stuffed the cigarette packet back into his pocket. A nurse walked down the hallway, making checkmarks on her clipboard. She glanced at Farr and nodded, then continued down the corridor. He felt something trickle down his cheek and surreptitiously brushed it away.
* * *
For the next few weeks, Farr established a routine. He was working now, and could only come in during mealtimes and after his shift, when he would bring Rolf along. The little dog would jump onto the cot and lie with his muzzle close to Katrinka’s face, his exhalations blowing softly on her skin.
During visits when he was alone, he would carry on long conversations with the sleeping girl. Reminiscing about the times they’d shared, the things they’d talked about. He reminded her of her father, and Le Flâneur, and Rolf.
He ran into Nye a few times, who told him he was having some trouble getting off island. There was a holdup on his orders or some problem with his job back in Guam. Sometimes, he would visit as well. Both men would sit quietly, neither one speaking much.
Other times one of the performers, a young woman called Cricket, would come. She chattered on and on to Farr in a soft voice. After she left, he could never remember anything she’d said.
One day when Farr sat alone with Katrinka, the major came in with something in his hands. It was Katrinka’s knapsack.
“I wanted to give this to you before leaving. It was strapped to her back, and one of
the nurses took the liberty of taking the items out. She opened the book and dried the pages before they became stuck together. It took her quite a while.”
Surprised, Farr stood and took the bag. “You’re headed out, sir?”
Nye nodded. “Hope to be going back in the next week or two. From Guam, I’ll await transport for Rangoon and on to India. Then a troop ship through the Suez to England.”
Farr studied the man’s face. “Well, that’s great news, sir. If you have time, come around before—”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Farr nodded, looking down at the knapsack. He fingered its weathered straps, remembering the first time he’d ever seen it. He glanced up to thank Nye, but the man was gone.
* * *
The next evening Farr returned, bringing the knapsack with him. He sat down and pulled out the book, which was even more battered now than it had been when he’d first seen it. He turned the pages carefully. They were warped and crinkled, but still intact. He skimmed over the first few lines. Glancing at Katrinka, he settled back and began reading aloud in the quiet alcove, his words barely ruffling the silence.
He read for almost an hour, then sat watching her sleep until the room got dark. Then he stood and stretched, putting the knapsack on the chair. As he did so, something fell to the floor with a silky whisper, and he picked it up. It was her necklace. The medallion was missing, but the silver vial was attached, still stoppered tight. Incredible how it had survived the crash.
He knew Katrinka never used the oil, there was too little of it, and it was too precious. But there were times, especially when she was under great stress, he’d seen her opening the vial and smelling it for a few brief seconds.
He looked thoughtfully at the small chain draped loosely around his fingers, then at the girl’s pale face on the pillow. He sat back down.
“Babe, I have to apologize. I know this stuff is really special to you. Even opening it without your permission’s going to get me into a hell of a lot of trouble. But I’m taking a chance here. For you and me.”
With great care, he pulled the tiny plug. “Remember this? Your Papa Emerson gave it to you, the one who used to take you and your mother on those expeditions of his. It’s jasmine. He gave your mother one too, because of her fair hair.”
He passed the vial under her nose, but there was no response.
“Remember when you showed me this, Katrinka? We’d slept together the night before—the whole night, we held each other tight. And the next morning you came in, and you showed me this. I was so in love with you, I could barely talk.”
He passed the vial under her nose again. Was there the faintest flicker of her lashes? The slightest blush of color in those pale cheeks?
He sealed the vial, putting it into the knapsack, then hesitated. Moving closer to the bed, he pushed Rolf aside and rested the book on her hands.
“Here’s something else you showed me. Guess it was a favorite of yours. We talked about this too, remember?” He was pleading with her now, the ache in his throat painful, making it difficult for him to speak.
“You told me about this young girl and her dog. She’d lost her way in a storm and was trying to find her way back home. Try to remember. Please remember.”
There came the thinnest noise. A bit like a sigh, or maybe just a slight exhalation of breath that held sound. He waited, but there was nothing else.
* * *
The next afternoon he arrived to find the nurse at her station, in a high state of excitement.
“She woke last night, briefly. The night nurse thought she heard crying, and came running to check her out. She was unresponsive, but there were tears on her cheeks.”
Farr’s voice was harsh. “Did she say anything? Will it happen again?”
The nurse shook her head. “We don’t know. But I would say it’s a positive move forward. Anything is better than this.”
Farr returned to Katrinka’s room and pulled the chair close. It seemed to him there was more color in her face today, her breathing stronger.
He began reading in a low voice. He’d read for about a half hour when he heard a small sound. His fingers froze on the page. He waited several minutes, scarcely breathing, before continuing. He stopped at the end of the next chapter. His vision was blurry, and he could no longer see the print.
Before leaving he leaned over to give her a kiss, and a tear slipped from the corner of his eye, a tiny trail of liquid fire, falling onto her cheek. Had they both come so far, to have it all end like this?
He rose to leave, turning at the curtain to call to Rolf. But the dog was frozen, staring intently into Katrinka’s face.
There was a whisper, so small it wasn’t really sound at all. He stared. Her eyes were open, and they were looking at him. They seemed cloudy, as if she were seeing him from a long distance, through murky waters.
Her lips moved and she whispered again. “Wolfe.”
He crept back across the floor and knelt by her bed, her eyes still watching him, becoming more focused. He reached out, taking her hand.
“Katrinka.”
“Where are we?” Are we together now?”
“Yes. We’re together now.”
Farr never cried. Not when they buried his mother or when he found his father lying dead, and not as a witness to all the horrors of war. Not even that time in Paris, when he thought he’d lost her for good. Now, pressing his face against the thin blanket, he wept. Tearing, ragged sobs, that ripped through his emaciated body.
She ran her fingers through his hair. “Oh please don’t cry, Wolfe. Please don’t cry.”
But he continued, with Rolf wriggling under his face, licking away the tears.
* * *
The next day, Cricket was at her bedside, chattering away. “It was your officer boyfriend who saved you. He saved both of us, and Rolf too. He wouldn’t let go, even though he was half-drowning and delirious.”
“He was delirious?”
“Well, he seemed to be. He kept calling you Sofia, or Billie, or something like that. He… he was crying a bit, but don’t tell him I told you that.”
Katrinka was still struggling with everything. “You mean he’s still here?”
“Yes, although I haven’t seen him around since he brought in your knapsack. He gave it to that sergeant.”
Wills had brought her knapsack.
“Where is he now? The major?”
“Would you like me to go find him for you?” asked Cricket.
Katrinka smiled. She knew Cricket much preferred the dreamboat major to Wolfe’s scrawny appearance. “Yes. Please do.”
Cricket left, and Katrinka absently patted Rolf’s warm head. He’d not left her bed since she woke, except to do his dog duties, always returning immediately. She tried to put together pieces of memory. The terrifying crash, the shrieking wind whipping the breath from her mouth. Seeing Wills struggling across the waves to reach her, and Rolf’s dark head bobbing in the water. She was drowning, and there was nothing she could do to save him. Then something struck her in the darkness, and that was all she remembered.
* * *
It was after hours. Nye stood outside the small Recreation Center Quonset with Farr, watching a spontaneous game of basketball. It was early evening, and a welcoming breeze blew in from the sea, carrying with it the smell of ship fuel.
Farr’s friend Bennie had just made a basket, by shooting a free throw from the foul line. A heated argument broke out about whether Bennie had stepped over the line in the toss. It was obvious the ref had not seen it, so he called for another throw, much to the chagrin of Bennie’s team. Bennie took the shot and missed.
Farr lit a cigarette and leaned back against the wall, watching Nye out of the corner of his eye.
“Went over to Personnel today for my orders and paperwork. Things were backed up. Had to wait
awhile. Evidently, some major was supposed to fill a vacancy. Fought like hell to get the damn position, then changed his mind. He’s going back to Guam.”
Nye turned, and the men locked eyes for several moments. A player made a basket, and a wild cheer went up from the few spectators. They turned their attention back to the game.
Afterwards, the men walked back to the barracks in the dark.
Nye faced the sergeant, holding out his hand. “Well, I’m on my way. Might not see you again before leaving. All the best to you, Farr.”
Farr took his hand, shaking it warmly. “And to you, Major.”
Nye turned to leave.
“Sir?”
Nye stopped.
“Katrinka’s told me— I mean we’ve both talked about it. How it is with you and her, and all.” Farr took a deep breath. “Anyway, sir, it’s fine with me. And if I’d had to… well, even before our talk, I just wanted to let you know. It wouldn’t have been a problem. It never has been.”
Nye nodded and left abruptly. Walking back to his quarters, he reminded himself to breathe, taking deep gulps of sea air. Bloody hell, it was time to end his commission. He’d almost lost composure in front of another soldier.
Chapter 17
Home, 1945
Wolfe met Katrinka after work on Friday. “A radio’s broken at a small encampment of Marines up by Hedo Point. Needs to be repaired. I’m taking parts, and you could come along. It’s a great ride along the coast. Most of Route One goes all the way up, now.”
“Yes! Where is it?”
“Tip of the island. Sacred place. Beautiful cliffs, and a great view. Thought we could take our time heading up the coast. There’s a road, but it’s rough in some places. Camp out at the Point, and head back in time for work the next day.”
“I’d like that, Wolfe. It sounds lovely.”
But Katrinka wanted to take Rolf with them. Farr rejected the idea, saying there was nowhere for him on the motorcycle. It was an Army Harley Davidson WLA with barely enough room for them both on the seat. She might end up having to sit on the luggage platform in the back, so there would be no room for Rolf. Katrinka said she could hold him in her lap. Farr objected again, saying he would get hot and restless.
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