Love on Liberty

by M. J. Williamz

  “Yep.” Tommy really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She was afraid she’d start crying again and she couldn’t bear the thought of the people on the commune seeing her cry. To them, she was a fierce, strong leader. Not a wimp.

  “Well, if you need to talk about it or anything, my tent’s always open.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  He walked off and she took a deep breath. She finished her tasks and asked Trinity if there was anything else she could do. She was told no so she went back to her tent. Feeling more alone than she’d ever felt in her life, she smoked some more pot and decided to wander around the commune and see what everybody was up to.

  People were gathered in circles, playing cards or dominoes or backgammon. Or just sitting with friends enjoying the quiet evening. She searched deep inside herself, hoping to find the familiar serenity that she felt when she was home, but it wasn’t there. She felt restless and edgy.

  The bell finally rang signaling that dinner was ready. Tommy walked to the dining hall with some friends, but felt separate from them. She hated feeling like she didn’t fit in. She told herself she was just out of sorts because her heart was broken, but deep down she wondered if she’d ever feel like she fit in again.

  Dinner was good, but Tommy just sat there lost in her own thoughts while conversations went on around her.

  “Hey, Tommy.” Jimmy had walked up and she hadn’t even noticed.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re takin’ that tuning out too seriously.” He laughed. So did she, though hers was hollow. “I mean it, man. Come on. Get with us. A group of us are going to go make some music. Come watch. It’ll do you good.”

  Tommy walked with Jimmy to the circle area where the drums had already started. Jimmy fired up a joint and took a hit then passed it to Tommy. She took a deep drag and handed it back.

  “Take another hit,” he said. “I need to go get my guitar.”

  Tommy did as instructed while she watched him walk off in the direction of his tent. The drums made the ground shake slightly, and Tommy struggled to stay upright. She found that moving from foot to foot helped her keep her balance.

  Jimmy was back with his guitar and Beldon was blowing into his harmonica. Tiffany was playing her tambourine. The music was soulful, and Tommy was soon lost in the melody. They simply improvised for a while as a crowd gathered, then they began to play songs everyone could sing along with.

  They played Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin. They played the Grateful Dead and the Doors. Tommy allowed herself to think of happier times, like when she had gone to the Monterey Pop Music Festival with a group from the commune a couple of years before. They’d had more fun there. She belonged with these people, she realized. Fuck Dolly if she didn’t want her. These people did and she had them and always would.

  Tommy was tired. It had been a long and difficult day. She cut out of the circle and walked back to her tent where she fell into a restless sleep. She had nightmare after nightmare about bombs dropping on the commune and babies covered in blood. She woke up at eight the next morning and opted to stay awake, not wanting any more bad dreams.

  She dragged herself out of bed and pulled on some clothes, then made her way to the dining hall. Breakfast was self-serve, so she poured some cereal and sat down by herself to eat. She spent that time reliving in her mind every moment she’d spent with Dolly. Maybe she should have caught on at the amusement park, but she’d thought Dolly was just paranoid. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she had already grown tired of Tommy. But why hadn’t she just said so?

  No matter how many ways she played it over in her head, there’d been no reason to assume Dolly considered them over until the morning before when she’d told Tommy she didn’t respect her and couldn’t be in the relationship any longer.

  “Fuck her,” Tommy muttered. She got up, washed her bowl, and put it in the strainer to dry.

  With the whole day ahead of her, she pondered what she could do to help out the greater good of the commune. Certainly stewing in her own self-pity did nothing to help anybody. She decided to go to the vegetable garden and do some weeding. She was the only one there and she found it peaceful and beautiful. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how one looked at it, there were very few weeds to pick. The garden crew had been doing an excellent job.

  The sun was rising higher, and it was a beautiful, warm day. People were milling about, getting ready to start their days. Tommy was not alone in her love of sleeping late. Few people were awake before nine.

  Tommy walked past Jimmy and a group of people standing around in front of his tent.

  “Hey, Jimmy,” Tommy said. “Do you know of anything that needs to be done? I’m kind of at a loss of what to do right now.”

  “I think everything’s under control at the moment,” Jimmy said.

  As a founder of the commune, Tommy didn’t have set jobs like so many of the members. She just helped out where she could. And if no one needed help, what on earth was she going to do to keep from thinking about Dolly?

  “Well then, what do you say you guys play hooky with me and we go fishing?”

  “That sounds great,” Jimmy said. He and the others grabbed their fishing gear and met Tommy at her tent. They cut through the tents, out to the forest and to the creek beyond. Tommy felt the warm woodsy air on her and felt alive. She breathed deeply of the scent of the forest. She was home.

  The group set about readying their rods for fishing. Tommy was the first one done so she hiked along the edge of the creek a ways before casting. The sight of her line cutting through the water gave her a sense of peace. She loved to fish and normally enjoyed it alone or with a female companion. But she knew she needed company that day so took the four others with her. She knew they’d most likely make too much noise and scare any fish away, but it would still be fun.

  Sure enough, people were tangling their lines, losing their hooks and overall being inept at fishing. But it was funny. No one was uptight. Everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves. It was a groovy atmosphere for Tommy. She needed that positive energy.

  Tommy and Jimmy each caught two trout and took them back to the dining hall to supplement dinner. Trinity was happy to see them.

  “Thank you so much. You know how we all like fresh fish,” she said.

  “I hope to provide you with a lot more over the next few days.”

  “Right on. I can’t wait.”

  They’d missed lunch and that was fine. Tommy went back to her tent and took a couple of hits off a joint. She set the joint down just as she heard someone outside her tent.

  “Can I come in?” Jimmy said.

  “Sure.”

  “We didn’t get to talk out there, but I wanted to check in with you. How you doin’?”

  “I’m doin’ okay. Not great, but better than yesterday.”

  “Yeah?” Jimmy said. “I’d guess every day would get a little easier, huh?”

  “That’s kind of what I’m counting on.”

  “I’m sure. Well, if you need to talk, the offer still stands.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Have you thought about showing up at her place of work with a bouquet of flowers and seeing what she does?” Jimmy said.

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Sure it is. What’s to stop you? What does she do?”

  “She’s a nurse.”

  “Sounds easy enough to me.”

  Tommy was so tempted to tell Jimmy the truth. He was such a nice guy. She felt that she could trust him. But could she? How would anyone on the commune feel if they found out one of their leaders was consorting with the enemy?

  “It does sound easy, but it’s not,” Tommy finally said.

  “Well, maybe I’ll come up with an idea that’ll be too brilliant for you to turn down.”

  “Maybe you will.” Tommy laughed. “I don’t see that happening, but I sure do appreciate your enthusiasm.”

  Jimmy pulled a joint from his pocket and motio
ned toward Tommy.

  “Sure,” Tommy said.

  Jimmy took a hit and passed it over. Tommy took a long drag and held it as long as she could. She exhaled slowly as she enjoyed the taste lingering in her mouth.

  “That’s really good stuff,” she said.

  “I know. It’s killer weed.”

  Tommy wondered where Jimmy got his. She got hers from a reliable source in the city. And she had more money to spend, so she’d expect hers to be the best. But did she really have more money than Jimmy? No one had any idea how much money she had and she had no idea how much money anybody else had. That was their own business.

  “What are you thinking about?” Jimmy said.

  “I’m just fucking stoned,” Tommy said. “I’m thinking random thoughts. But man, this is good shit.”

  “You want another hit?”

  “I don’t think I should.”

  “I’m going to,” Jimmy said. He took another long draw and set the joint in the ashtray.

  “Why the fuck not?” Tommy said. She took another hit as well and felt her brain turn to mush.

  “So what kind of random thoughts were you thinking?” Jimmy asked.

  “Money mostly.”

  “Money? That’s evil. Why would you think about that?”

  “Just how no one knows how much anybody has. And how cool that is.”

  “I like the commune,” Jimmy said. “I like everybody working for the common good.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Will we be able to live here forever?”

  “I plan to,” Tommy said. “I don’t ever plan to reintegrate into society. They’re so fucked up and stupid and hypocritical.”

  Jimmy laughed.

  “Don’t hold back. Tell me how you feel.”

  Tommy started laughing, too.

  “Well, it’s true. I’d rather be on the outside pointing out their idiocies.”

  “How can they not see that equal rights for everyone are important?” Jimmy said.

  “I can’t live in a world like that. I have to be the one leading the revolt, bringing equal rights to the world.”

  “And then there’s the war,” Jimmy said.

  Tommy grew silent. She thought of Dolly and the ship and the baby killers.

  “Hey, man. Don’t you agree?” Jimmy said.

  “Shit yeah, I agree.”

  “You sure? You don’t seem very adamant.”

  Tommy dug deep inside. She pulled on every ounce of hate she had for the government for getting them in the war and on every bit of hatred she felt for Dolly for hurting her.

  “I’m fucking adamant. Those baby killers. Kids! Just kids from our country going over to that weird world and killing everyone they see. We need to get out of there like yesterday.”

  “Right on. Now you’re talkin’.”

  “I hate that fucking war, Jimmy. More than you could ever know.”

  More than anyone could ever know, she thought to herself. She hated the war and Dolly and all they both stood for.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dolly heard the chants as the ship prepared to set sail. She wondered if Tommy was among them, spewing hatred toward all on board. She was sure she had been, even as she hoped she hadn’t. She hated the way things ended with her. She wanted them to be able to mail each other letters, to keep in touch and maybe have something after her duty was over. But Tommy never gave her the chance to say that. She had been so angry that Dolly had simply tried to placate her. To no avail.

  The first day on the ship there wasn’t much going on. They were simply making their way back to Vietnam. They had no wounded yet, but there were a few sick sailors to tend to. Dolly imagined that most of them had bottle flu, but they were in sick bay, so she cared for them nonetheless.

  One of the sailors was Carlos Martinez, who Dolly had introduced Tommy to while on liberty. Dolly tried not to have to care for him because she really couldn’t stand the man, but one day she had no choice.

  “Hey, Samson,” he called.

  She made her way to his bed with trepidation.

  “What can I do for you, Martinez?”

  “I’ve got something I think you need to see.” He grabbed his crotch. His shipmates laughed, and Dolly turned bright red from embarrassment and indignation.

  “Very funny.” She turned to leave.

  He slapped her ass. There was more laughter from the crew, and Dolly just fought to keep her stomach from losing its contents. She hated men like Martinez, who only thought of women as sex objects. Didn’t he realize she had the same rank as he did and didn’t need to put up with his shit?

  She went about her business until he called her over again.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “I think my arm is swollen,” he said.

  “Really?” He seemed sincere.

  “Yeah, my right arm. Will you take a look?”

  She had to lean over him to see his arm and almost vomited when she felt his other hand on her breasts. She stood and glared at him.

  “What? You got nice tits,” he said.

  “They’re not for you.”

  “Maybe you should ease up. Life’s too short to be so uptight.”

  She turned to walk away.

  “You frigid or something?” he called after her.

  She stopped and spun around to face him.

  “You have no right to ask me any sort of question like that. It’s none of your business.”

  “It’s just that I usually know which nurses put out and I’ve never heard your name. So I wonder.”

  She turned her back on him again and went to the rest room where she did throw up. After she had composed herself, she grabbed the supply sheet and began to take inventory. They’d only been at sea for a day, but they’d used supplies, and she wanted to keep on top of them.

  There was little to do the first few days at sea, so it was difficult for her to keep her mind off Tommy and the wonderful times they’d had together. She fought tears as she tended to the sick men and often had to disappear to allow herself to regain her composure. Tommy had made her feel alive in a way she never had before. She’d taught her to really enjoy life. And the lovemaking. The lovemaking had been out of this world. She missed it most. As well as the long cuddling after.

  Even though she’d been the one to call it off, she really did still love Tommy and knew she always would. At night, in her stateroom, she’d wait until the others were asleep then slide her hand between her legs and think of Tommy and how much she missed her.

  She felt like she was simply going through the motions every day at work. She’d tend to sick men and do her daily chores. At night, she’d allow her feelings to wash over her. She was miserable.

  One day, she decided to take a few minutes during her down time to write Tommy a letter. Tommy had given Dolly her PO box before they’d split up. Dolly told her again in the letter how much she loved her and how much she wished they could stay in touch. She told her a little about life on the ship, such as it was, and asked her to please write her back. She went to the ship’s post office and mailed it. She knew it would be some time before Tommy got it and therefore it would seem like forever before she heard back, assuming she ever would.

  The days flowed together, with nothing out of the ordinary happening. The days were filled with daily routine, mostly caring for anybody in sick bay, of which there were very few. Soon they would be back in Vietnam, though, and then there wouldn’t be a moment of peace and quiet. In a way, Dolly looked forward to it to get her mind off Tommy.

  They arrived off the coast near Da Nang, and Dolly steeled herself for the onslaught of wounded. She was not disappointed. All eight operating rooms were full from the minute they arrived. Dolly worked triage with the other nurses, deciding which patient could wait and which would be seen next. She spent her time trying to stop the bleeding on one patient or another, anything to keep them alive.

  After several weeks of triage, Dolly got to work in the aftercare of
the patients. It was still brutal, but at least the young men and occasional woman had been treated and were bandaged rather than having their wounds raw and exposed.

  On her fourth week there, Dolly was doing her rounds when she came up to a young woman lying in one of the beds. She was sleeping, so Dolly quietly checked her vital signs. As she was doing so, the woman woke up. She opened her eyes, and Dolly felt her breath catch. The woman had the same steel blue eyes as Tommy. She could see that even as the woman’s eyes were clouded in pain.

  Dolly assumed she would go back to sleep, so went about her business.

  “You’re like a vision,” the woman said.

  Dolly stopped adjusting her IV drip and looked at her chart. Her name was Amanda Johnson. She’d had her arm blown off and took shrapnel in her stomach. Her prognosis was good.

  “Hi, Amanda,” Dolly said.

  “And you are?”

  Dolly wanted to say Dolly, plain and simple. She wanted to forget protocol and all the navy’s rules and regulations and just be Dolly. But she couldn’t.

  “I’m Lieutenant Samson,” she said.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Well,” Dolly said, “it would have been nice under different circumstances.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?”

  “How are you feeling?”

  Amanda laughed. It was a laugh devoid of mirth.

  “Like I just got out of a war zone.”

  “Imagine that,” Dolly said.

  “At least I’ll get to go home.”

  “Well, that’s one way to look at it.”

  “You always got to look for the silver lining.”

  “I like that. I need to remember that.”

  “It makes life better,” Amanda said.

  “I’d imagine it would. It can’t be easy, though.”

  “Not always. Like after your arm gets blown to kingdom come in some jungle in Asia.”

  Dolly smiled a wry smile at Amanda. She wondered what things would have been like if they’d met in a different situation. One where rank didn’t matter. Could they have become friends?

  “I need to go check on other patients,” Dolly said.

  “Oh, of course you do. Thanks for visiting with me.”