by Alexa Kang
April 15, 1943
Dear Anthony,
She sat down at her desk and started to write while Muffin rubbed her head against her shin. When did this cat come in? Her door was closed but Muffin had pushed it open and entered anyway. This cat thought she owned the house. No place was off limits to her. She came and went wherever and whenever she pleased, the same way Anthony used to do when he came home from school.
The thought made her smile. What would he think if he saw how this cat had taken over his place at home? She even liked to hide in his room and sleep on his bed.
… By now, you must be at the Officer Candidates School. I hope all is going well there. I had so much fun reading about your excursions in L.A. The actors and actresses my father worked with used to tell me stories about that city. So many of them dreamt of being a part of Hollywood. It must have been something to meet Katharine Hepburn. Did you ask her for an autographed photo too?
I'm happy to hear you were able to take breaks and enjoy your time off. So you wish I was at the bars with you now? I see the army training might be a good thing after all!—No. I'm only joking. I, too, wish we could be on a quiet beach, enjoying the peace and beauty of the scenery just the two of us.
Muffin jumped up onto her lap, disrupting her.
"You bad moggy!" She tapped her on the head. The cat raised its nose and rubbed it against her fingers. She chuckled while the cat settled herself comfortably on her lap.
… Muffin is getting big now. She grows so fast. Aunt Sophia loves her, but she's a very naughty cat. Yesterday, she knocked over and broke the 18th-century antique vase Uncle Leon gave Aunt Sophia for her birthday. Uncle Leon is going to be very upset when he finds out.
Muffin started purring. Tessa stroked her fur and her purrs grew louder.
… You should see this cat. She's a little rascal. Actually, I wish you were here and could be a part of everything we are doing. Uncle William converted a large part of the yard into a vegetable garden. Everyone whose home has a garden is now planting victory gardens. We planted more seeds last week. This is the time of year when you usually come home from school for spring break. If you were here, you would've been helping us to break ground and plant seeds.
She stopped. If he were her… If he were here, on school break instead of away with the army, he would be reading in the den after dinner or listening to music or radio with her. Sometimes, he even listened to the president's fireside chats, although he made sure Uncle Leon never knew about it.
How she wished he were here. It hurt to be away from him. The darkness of the night outside the window and the silence of the room made her feel even more alone. When would they see each other again?
She continued writing.
… I miss you so much.
She stopped again. Anger started to fill the hole in her heart. The rage that gnawed and ate at her on the day she saw Anthony off to training camp had returned.
… I hate this war. I hate that it's taken you away.
Without realizing it, her hand tensed against Muffin's back. The cat hissed and leaped off her lap and sprinted out of her room. She watched the cat run away. Her eyes lingered on the "Liebestraum" poster on the wall. The anger in her heart subsided, replaced by a wave of tenderness. When she closed her eyes, she could remember him kissing her next to the poster, and the way he pulled her body close to him. She could still feel his soft caresses.
She opened her eyes and picked up the pen again.
… I'm sorry I didn't send you a photo of me last time. I don't know how my father could stand to have his photo taken so often. I feel self-conscious seeing myself in photos. I never look right. At least I don't think I do. But I finally had one taken by a photographer because you've asked several times already. I'm enclosing it with this letter. I guess this one doesn't look too bad. I'm sending you photos of Muffin too so you can see what she looks like.
I will try to write again tomorrow. Take good care of yourself. My heart is always with you.
– Love, Tessa
13
"We're here, Ron." Tessa leaned down to Ron in the wheelchair. Along with Sarah, Ellie, and Dr. Donovan, they had arrived at the studio where Sarah's father had arranged for them to film. Ron showed no reaction. His head dropped to one side and he didn't look interested in anything.
"Hello," a chunky man with a round face like Sarah's opened the door.
"This is my father," Sarah introduced them.
"Please, please. Come on in." Mr. Brinkman welcomed them and stepped aside to let them in. "Let me introduce you to my friend Ted Barnaby. Ted owns this studio. He'll be doing the film recording today." He brought them to a man with a long but jovial face sitting behind a desk.
Ted Barnaby quickly wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Sorry. Just finishing my lunch." He got up to greet them, leaving behind his unfinished bottle of Coca-Cola and sandwich.
Tessa glanced around the studio floor behind the staging area where Ted sat. The recording camera was already set up. Ted turned on the studio lamps and invited them to come closer. "This camera records in color. It's a fine piece of equipment. State of the art, if I do say so myself." He patted the camera. "How shall we do this? Do you want me to film you while you ask him questions?" he asked Dr. Donovan.
"We want you to start by recording what happens when we ask him to walk," Donovan said. "He has no sign of physical injury, but he has trouble standing up and he can't walk properly. It's difficult to explain but you'll see what we mean."
"All right," Ted said. "Let's have you and one of your nurses take him to the studio floor. I'll start the camera."
Donovan nodded at Tessa. She took the cue and said, "Ron, I know this is difficult for you, but will you please stand up?"
Looking lost, he gazed at Tessa. "You can do this," she said. He lowered his head and pushed against the arms of the wheelchair to get up. Ellie quickly moved to hold the wheelchair in place from behind while Tessa helped him. "That's it." She encouraged him. "You're doing very well," she said, even though he was not doing well at all. He was having difficulty standing up. Once on his feet, his back curved sideways to the left.
Donovan took his left arm and they walked him to the studio floor. There, they let go of him. "Ron," Donovan said, "can you turn to your right and take a few steps forward?"
Ron turned to the right and took several deep breaths as he stared straight ahead. "I can't." He looked at the doctor, helpless.
"Give it a try," Donovan said. "We're here to help you if you need it."
Ron curled his fingers. His face tensed.
"Small, easy steps, Ron," Tessa said. "One step at a time."
Looking ahead, he pressed his lips together and took a step forward. As he did, the contortion of his body worsened. His waist shifted unnaturally to the left while his hip pushed to the right. His body was crooked like a broken puppet. He couldn't bend his knees. All he could do was force his rigid right leg forward by pushing down on his right heel and dragging his left leg along.
"That's it." Donovan glanced over at Ted, who had started filming Ron. "Keep going that way."
Ron continued. The look of excruciating pain on his face was hard to watch. When he reached the end of the studio floor, Donovan told him to turn around and walk back to the opposite side. He did as Donovan asked, but he tensed up further and his back twisted even more. After another repetition of this walking exercise, he collapsed. "I can't. I can't." He kneeled on the floor and cried. "My back hurts." Tessa and Sarah rushed to console him.
"Shall we continue?" Ted asked Dr. Donovan.
Donovan crossed his arms. "I'm afraid this will have to do. I don't want to upset him anymore today. If you don't mind helping us, we can arrange another session later this week."
"No problem," Ted said. "I'll be glad to help."
Donovan joined Tessa and Sarah. "Let's get him back to the hospital." He lifted Ron up on one side while Tessa supported him on the other. When they came back to the staging
area near Ted's desk, Ron's eyes bulged and he screamed. Hysterical, he flailed his arms, knocking both Donovan and Tessa off balance. Ellie ran to them and tried to help Donovan restrain him.
"What's wrong?" Tessa asked. "Ron! What's wrong?"
"The fly!" Ron slurred between his screams. "The fly! The fly!"
Tessa looked around. A fly hovered over Ted's leftover sandwich, then landed on the uneaten bit of food. Ted started to walk toward the desk. "No!" Tessa said. Her instinct took over. "Keep filming. Record him."
Deferring to her, Ted went back to the camera and turned the lens toward Ron. Dr. Donovan and Ellie had now managed to hold Ron down. Tessa took the stress balls from her pocket and put them into his hand. He closed his hand around them. They calmed him and he stopped screaming.
"What happened, Ron?" Tessa asked gently. "Why did you scream when you saw the fly?"
He sniffed. His body slumped to the floor. "The fly was on his eye socket."
Tessa gagged at the grotesque image that came to her mind but held back from showing her disgust. "On whose eye socket?"
"Pete Whitfield. We fought together in the Solomon Islands. He was my first lieutenant." He talked as if he was in a dream.
Seeing Ted was still filming, Donovan moved back out of the camera's view and signaled Ellie to do the same.
"Can you tell me more?" Tessa asked.
"We made an amphibious landing at Gavutu. We parachuted down. Some men never made it to the shore. They drowned. The waves were so high. Our gears were heavy." His body deflated further.
"Go on."
"We got to the land and the shelling and bombing came right away. It was chaos all over. Pete was running next to me. I knew when he was hit. I felt it. And then I saw it. He fell down right beside me. I wanted to help him but I couldn't. Everything was exploding around me and shots were flying everywhere. I pressed on ahead." He tugged his arms into his chest and curled up. "The fighting went on and on. When we finally took the beach, I went back to look for him. He wasn't at the field hospital so I went back to the beach to look for him. And then, I found him. He always wore this Navajo hemp bracelet on his right wrist. It was orange and turquoise. Diamond-shaped patterns. He said they have protective powers. His sleeve was rolled up and I recognized it as soon as I saw it." He stopped talking. He had a faraway look in his eyes as if he was somewhere else, perhaps back on the beach at Gavutu where his deceased comrade lay dead.
"Do you want to stop?" Tessa touched him on the shoulder. "We can stop now if you want."
He didn't seem to hear her. "I walked over to him. He was dead. One of his eyes was blown out by a sniper shot. All that was left was an empty socket. There was a fly on top of it."
Behind them, Sarah let out a gurgling sound from her throat.
"I couldn't save him. I didn't save him. I knew he was shot and I couldn't and didn't save him." Ron blinked and tears fell down his cheeks.
"That's enough." Donovan held up his hand. Ted turned off the camera. "Ellie, Tessa, let's get him back into the wheelchair. We'll take him back and let him rest."
Tessa and Ellie did as Donovan said. Ron, despondent, let them handle him without any resistance. He looked weak and frail despite his muscular physique.
"I'll deliver the footage to you as soon as I can," Ted said. His voice choked.
"I wish we could help more." Mr. Brinkman opened the studio's door, his face full of sympathy.
"Thank you." Donovan shook his hand goodbye. "You've both been a great help already."
In the ambulance on their way back, none of them said a word. Tessa reached for Ron's hand. What place had he withdrawn himself into? She wondered. She wanted to pull him out.
Back at the hospital, Ron lay listless on his bed for hours. Tessa stayed by his bedside as long as she could so he wouldn't be alone.
"You should go home," Ellie told her. "I'll keep an eye on him this evening."
"Do you think his father will change his mind and let him stay so we can treat him?"
"The general?" Ellie asked. "Let's hope so." Her face showed only doubt.
14
Frank Castile stood at the center of Dr. Donovan's office in front of the doctor's desk. Donovan invited him to sit down, but he refused. "I don't have much time, Doctor. I'm here to pick up my son. Can we make this quick?"
Out of courtesy, Donovan remained standing himself. Ted Barnaby stared wide-eyed at the general and shrunk behind the film projector.
"We want to talk to you about your son's condition, sir," Donovan said.
"You're testing my patience, Doctor. My son has no condition other than losing his drive to fight. You can release him. A few weeks with me and he'll be back to fighting form."
"No, he won't be," Tessa interrupted them. She was trying her best not to sound rude to this mean, unreasonable man. "He needs our help. If you don't do right by him and let us treat him, you will regret it."
Castile fixed his eyes on her as if noticing her in the room for the first time. Donovan shook his head at her to warn her to stop, but she wouldn't. She wasn't afraid of this bloke. He was wrong and she meant to set him straight.
"You're the same nurse who got in my way last time, aren't you?" Castile asked. "Is that what it's come to? My son now needs a woman to protect and defend him?"
Tessa ignored his comment. "Your son is ill. And he isn't a coward like you think. He's a brave man and a hero. You should watch our film and see what battles have done to him. He deserves this much from you."
She was ready for him to argue with her. Reprimand her even. But instead, he asked, "What's your name, nurse?"
"Graham. Tessa Graham," she answered. She wasn't sure what that had to do with anything.
He checked her rank insignia. "Only a cadet."
Defiant, she stood taller. She didn't care if he slighted her. But oddly, his steely demeanor softened. "What do you intend to do when your training is over?"
My training? She thought. She didn't see why he was asking her these questions. Who she was and what she planned to do were entirely irrelevant. Besides, what did he think she was here to do? The more she thought, the more resentful she felt. Men like him were the reason Anthony had to leave. They only cared about the war. They didn't care about what happened to people when they sent young men out to fight. They didn't care that battles destroyed people's minds, or that loved ones had to separate. If it weren't for these men and their war, she wouldn't have been here working to treat wounded soldiers, and Anthony wouldn't have had to leave.
What did she intend to do when she finished her training? Go after Anthony was what she intended to do. She was not going to let men like him or the war keep her and Anthony apart if she could help it.
"I intend to go overseas to where I want to be, Sir," she said. "I'm going to do everything I can to get there, no matter what it takes." She meant every word she said.
The general studied her with renewed interest. "A patriot."
A patriot? Tessa shifted her eyes away from him. What was he talking about? He had totally misunderstood her.
"You know you're crossing the line the way you're behaving, don't you, cadet?" Castile asked. "But you've got a lot of nerve, and you really do care about our soldiers." Castile pulled the guest chair out and sat down to face the small screen hanging on the wall. "All right, Graham. Show me the film."
The general's change of mind surprised her. Before she could react, Donovan seized the chance and waved at Ted. "Mr. Barnaby, can you please run the projector?"
"Uh huh," Ted stuttered. "Sure." He turned on the machine while Donovan switched off the lights. The film began to run. Castile's expression turned to distaste when a fragile-looking Ron appeared on the screen. Donovan's voice echoed in the background. "Ron, can you turn to your right and take a few steps forward?"
While Castile watched the film, Tessa observed his reaction. At first, he appeared confused. "What was the matter with him?" He scowled at the image of Ron walking contorted. "Why w
as he like this? Can't he walk?"
No one answered. When the film showed Ron collapsing onto the floor, the general's look changed to concern. "He's not faking this," he said, his voice uncertain.
"No," Donovan answered.
"Keep watching," Tessa said. "There's more."
The film now showed Ron screaming while Donovan and Ellie held him down until he slumped onto the floor. In the background, Tessa could be heard asking on the film, "What happened, Ron? Why did you scream when you saw the fly?" Ron began telling the story of his landing at Gavutu.
"I couldn't save him. I didn't save him. I knew he was shot and I couldn't and I didn't save him," Ron wailed.
Castile became visibly upset. "Stop," he ordered. "I've seen enough."
Ted stopped the projector. The frozen image of Ron curled up on the floor remained on the screen while Ted switched the lights back on. Donovan frantically pointed at the screen, and Ted rushed to turn off the machine. They waited for the general's response.
"I know Pete Whitfield." Castile's lips twitched. Tessa thought it even looked like he smiled, a fond smile. "I picked him out and watched him rise through the ranks," he continued. "He was an exceptional young man. I encouraged him to join the Marine Corps. He had a promising military career ahead of him. I'm sorry he ended this way. I wish I could've saved him too."
"You can still save Ron," Tessa said. "You only have to give us a chance."
