Amelia

by Harvey Mendez

  “You—you’re Mrs. Garcia. I remember you.”

  “Everybody knows why you two are here.”

  “Will you help us?”

  The old woman looked around the wharf and parking lot. She saw Vincent walking toward them and backed away from Amelia.

  “Wait,” Amelia said, “we need your help.”

  Mrs. Garcia put a finger to her lips. “The answer is at Garapan.” She scurried down the wharf.

  Vincent ran to Amelia. “Who was that?”

  “Mrs. Garcia.”

  “Garcia? Emanuel Garcia’s widow?”

  “Yes, she saw Amelia Earhart. We have to go to Garapan Prison.”

  “Why, what’s there, her grave? We’re way too late for that. Others have gone over—”

  “She said the answer’s at Garapan. Why would she lie?”

  Vincent looked around. “I don’t know who we can trust.”

  “Soon as she saw you, she left.”

  They walked back to their jeep.

  “Okay, we’ll go,” Vincent said. “Wonder how long she was here? Someone stole the DF.”

  “But, it isn’t AE’s. The Navy said so.”

  “The Navy—is that who Mrs. Garcia’s afraid of or is it someone else? That DF came off the plane at the bottom of the harbor.”

  “Unless, there’s another Electra buried some—”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Several rounds ricocheted off the windshield’s metal frame. Amelia jerked to her left.

  Vincent threw his body over hers on the seat. “Bastards!” He pressed his head on her back.

  Amelia trembled under him. A spray of slugs bounced off the right side of the jeep. She raised her head. Vincent pushed her back down.

  “Let me up.” She struggled.

  “Stay down.”

  Another round of fire pelted the jeep. Amelia’s breath caught in her throat. Her leg muscles tightened. “I’m scared.”

  Vincent lifted his head, peered over the seat. A reflection flashed from a second story window in a boating warehouse beside a small snack shop. He ducked.

  Amelia grunted when his head hit her back. “What’s out there?”

  “One gun, I think.” He eased off her onto his knees. “I’m going after him.”

  “Me, too.”

  “No, you’re staying here. Keep his attention.” Vincent grabbed his knife from under the front seat, tucked it in his belt. His face tensed. He slipped out the driver’s side of the jeep, disappeared behind the parked vehicles.

  More gunfire clanged against the jeep, jarring Amelia. She clasped her hands over her head, dug her face into the rough leather seat. “Good God, what next?”

  Silence—silence that seemed to last for hours. Her whole body ached, and then she heard footsteps. Amelia pulled her knees to her chest and froze. A large shadow towered over her. Closing her eyes, she dug her feet into the shadow’s middle.

  “Aaaaahhh . . .” He folded over.

  “Vincent!” She pressed her head against his chest, hugged him. “You okay?”

  “Soon as I get my breath.”

  “What happened? I thought we were going to die.”

  He straightened up. “Her throat was cut when I got there.”

  “Her?”

  “A young Japanese girl, same way we found them during the war.”

  “Them?”

  “Spies, assassins—taken out by their own.”

  “Another killing—Dad, your deck hand, Matilde. They’re not just trying to scare us anymore. They want us dead.”

  “And we don’t even know that much yet.” He put his knife under the seat.

  “They must think we do.”

  Vincent glanced down the wharf. Still empty. “If anyone heard the shots, they’re staying put. Shop doors all closed. Music’s coming from Harry’s. A long siesta today.” He jerked his head in the direction of approaching sirens. “Somebody heard. Let’s go.”

  Joaquina stood on her front porch when Vincent and Amelia drove into the yard. She set a basket of fruit on a small, scarred table and moved to the steps. “Are you okay? I heard you had some trouble.”

  “How did—” Vincent stopped when he saw Joaquina’s piercing eyes. She knows everything.

  “News travels.”

  Amelia hurried to her mother’s side.

  “Are you hurt?” Joaquina put an arm around her.

  “No, but it was awful. A Japanese girl, poor thing. Death seems to follow us like a huge specter. All these murders... I hope Dad wasn’t linked to anything bad.”

  Joaquina saw Amelia’s ashen expression and squeezed her shoulders. “You two better think more about all this.”

  “I’ve thought about it, a lot,” Vincent said. “The girl was dead. I mean, throat slit. Whoever did it took the weapons with them. Probably military issue. Your jeep’s all shot up.”

  “Vincent’s telling the truth.” Amelia backed away.

  “I’m sure he is.” Joaquina looked hard at him. “What did the police say?”

  “We didn’t wait around,” he said.

  “I think they’ll know where to find you if they need you.”

  “I don’t like this.” Vincent’s face twisted. “Everybody knows everything, except us. The way they killed that girl—Ito’s trademark. In the war, he recruited young Chinese and Japanese girls—trained them as prostitutes, agents.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Amelia said. “Why did they kill the girl at the wharf?”

  “She failed her mission. Ito doesn’t tolerate failure.”

  “How could he know so quickly?”

  “How could your mother know? I mean, this island seems to have faster-than-wartime communication.”

  Amelia turned to Joaquina. “Yes, Mother, how do you know about all these things that happen?”

  Joaquina’s brow creased. “Look what all this got your father. He shouldn’t be dead. I won’t let it happen to you.”

  “But he is dead, Mother, and I want to find out why.” She put her hands on her hips, planted her feet. “Tell me!”

  Joaquina took a surprised-step backward. “Amelia, remember your manners.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother, but you didn’t answer my question. I think you know who the bad guys are, here.”

  “I can’t tell you anymore.”

  “You mean you won’t.”

  “Daughter, that’s enough. I have to handle it my way.” She opened the screen door, walked into the living room.

  Vincent shifted his feet. “Well, that settles that.”

  “I’ve never seen her like this before.”

  “What if Ito didn’t kill that girl?”

  “You mean, someone saved us and pointed to Ito?”

  “Exactly.” He took her hand, opened the door.

  Day’s fading light closed up shop behind them, spread twilight over the island.

  The next morning, Vincent and Amelia traveled north along Beach Road toward the site of Old Garapan City. Almost missing the turn, they weaved through tangled undergrowth to an abandoned building by a small cluster of palm trees.

  “That stuff sure is thick.” Vincent stopped the jeep.

  “Tangan-tangan.” Amelia stepped out. “The U.S. planted it to prevent soil erosion.”

  “It worked. Which way do we go?”

  She pointed. “The prison’s down that path.”

  A short distance on the road behind them, a jeep slowed with its motor cut and rolled to a stop. A short, slim man leaped out, ran into the bamboo and banana trees.

  As Vincent and Amelia walked along the trail, warming sun cut through the dense jungle.

  “It’s getting hot,” Vincent said.

  They popped into an opening of weathered concrete ruins.

  “Dad said this large area was the main cellblock, where the Japanese held civilian prisoners.”

  “That’s where they would have kept AE.”

  Vincent stared at a piece of wall in the smaller section of the pr
ison. “If the remains could only talk?”

  “They detained ‘bad girls’ there.” She pointed to a decayed room.

  “Bad girls?”

  “Thieves, prostitutes, women who abandoned children.”

  “Well, if AE was here, she must’ve been quite the celebrity.”

  Amelia walked through the remains of a small cell. “The old woman said the answer’s here, but I’m sure others have looked before us.”

  “I’m sure they have, but she had good reason to clue us in. Look what happened, she could’ve been killed, too.”

  “We need somebody who actually saw AE. Dad must have found someone.”

  Vincent leaned against a weathered wall. “Emanuel Garcia placed her at the hotel the Japanese used as headquarters. Some books had her buried at Liyang Cemetery, but uncovered bones weren’t hers.” He looked down the narrow space between two cellblocks. “It’s amazing that bars are still on some of the windows after all these years.”

  “I wonder if she really died in one of these cells?” Amelia tugged on the bars.

  “Some people think so. Either from dysentery or that the Japanese executed her. I know she was here sometime. The Electra was even spotted in the harbor. But, what happened next?” Vincent walked away from the wall, stepped into a shallow pit. “Someone’s been digging here recently.”

  Amelia crouched by the hole. “Tourists, maybe.”

  “Or something just to throw us off. I’m going to take a picture, anyhow.”

  “It is kind of obvious.”

  “We’ll comb the grounds like we don’t know anything.”

  “We don’t know too much,” she said. “Whatever Dad found is buried with him.”

  “Or in his trunk. He must’ve known why AE meant so much to the Japanese.”

  “Seems she still does. That’s why Mrs. Garcia sent us here.”

  Vincent scanned the prison’s ruins. Lean trees grew near the scarred walls, bamboo rose to the top of walls. “Ground’s too level. Your dad wouldn’t take a chance hiding that trunk here.”

  Amelia viewed the same area. “Then let’s try Liyang.”

  “Sounds good, but I want to take more pictures. Who knows, something might show up under a magnifier.” He pointed his camera at the walls, cells, grounds and snapped off several pictures.

  At the far end of the ruins, a muscular arm and leg darted around a corner.

  Just before noon, Amelia and Vincent walked under the decaying stone archway that guarded Liyang Cemetery.

  Vincent shielded his eyes to read the engraved words. “Dedicated in 1940.”

  “Liyang means ‘The Cave’. The Japanese made the Chamorros relocate all these graves from the old site.” Amelia stopped on the narrow path by a mound of earth.

  He stooped at a grave. “There are no names or crosses on most of them.”

  “Father Quantero might have the records.”

  “Was he here during the war?”

  “Yes, but AE’s name wouldn’t be recorded.”

  Vincent stepped across weed-covered plots. “I’m looking for anything that might tie AE to this place.”

  “Dad’s papers must have what we want.”

  “We’ll know when we find them.” He stumbled over a protruding chunk of stone. “You’d think they’d keep this place up better.” He gazed at unpainted crosses, broken headstones, uncut weeds.

  “Too many painful memories. Things have been moved around so much, my people just gave up.”

  “Well, I won’t.” He walked down a tree-covered lane.

  She followed. “You implying I do?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You thought it.”

  He faced her. “Wait a minute, I thought we came here to learn what happened. Why are we arguing?”

  “We won’t find anything of importance.” She turned away.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Mother said we shouldn’t intrude in local business. It offends the Chamorros.”

  “Local business? Then they know AE was here. Why are they covering up?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, really. Probably fear.”

  “Well, I don’t scare easily. I’ll looking around, take some more photos. You stay here.”

  In the trees behind Amelia, a hand parted the leaves and a pair of eyes stared at her. A pistol’s barrel gleamed in the sunlight. She stooped behind a tombstone. The pistol lowered into the leaves.

  Vincent walked back later, sat on a broken headstone.

  “Any luck?” Amelia looked up.

  “Nothing. It’s been combed before.”

  She sighed. “Mrs. Garcia wasted our time.”

  “We’d better look her up again.”

  “Good idea. How about a break now? It’s really hot.”

  “Yeah, a swim would be great.” He adjusted the telephoto lens on his camera and snapped several shots toward the opposite side of the cemetery. His viewfinder caught unmarked plots, decaying walls, cracked and broken monuments. It did not catch a man’s shadow in a clump of green banana plants when Vincent circled the rest of the cemetery.

  They drove up the coast on Marpi Road until they reached a long stretch of white sand.

  “Papau Beach.” Amelia pointed to the sweeping lagoon on the Philippine Sea.

  “Let’s stop a while.” Vincent slowed the vehicle.

  “If you’re cooled down.”

  “I am.” He pulled the jeep onto the sand, turned off the ignition. “I thought you were upset.”

  “Sometimes you act like I’m a nuisance.”

  “Wait a minute.” He took his hands off the steering wheel. “We’re still a team aren’t we?”

  “I guess we have to be.” Did he really want it that way? Perhaps she’d served her purpose. She stepped out of the jeep, walked to a level spot on the sand. She’d find a way to prove herself.

  Vincent tossed the Army blanket next to her. She straightened it, sat on an edge. Kicking off her shoes, she wedged her toes into the warm sand. He squatted on the other side of the blanket. Without speaking, they watched the water move in and out on the sand until the sun began its afternoon descent.

  “Sorry,” Vincent finally said, “just needed to relax.”

  “Me, too. I understand—all the dead-ends.”

  “Someday, I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Why not now?”

  He did not answer but leaned over, embraced her. His touch thawed her restraint and she fell into his arms.

  “Thought we needed a little diversion,” he said.

  She took a deep breath, pulled away. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? We’re the only ones here.” He looked up and down the beach, past the green ground cover with its tiny orchid-like blossoms lining the edge of the sand. His gaze stopped at rugged cliffs of dark, rusty volcanic rock at the far end of the lagoon.

  Amelia followed his stare. “The Japanese dug those caves for machine gun nests. Their bloodiest Banzai charge took place here.”

  “Pretty smart way to change the subject. Now I suppose you want another war lecture.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Sometimes you’re just like AE.”

  “I wish you really believed she was gone.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Must you blame yourself forever?”

  “When you walked into my life, a lot of things changed.”

  Amelia relaxed in his arms. “I’m glad.”

  Vincent scooped her up, waded into the water, skimmed her bottom on top of the cooling waves. “You’d feel much better without all these clothes.” He stood her in waist-deep water, started to unbutton her blouse.

  “I can manage.” Her breasts jiggled when she straightened up in the clear water.

  He ripped off his clothes, grabbed her things, and bounced toward the beach. Cranking up his arm, he stepped into a hole on the bottom but hurled their clothes to shore before he fell.

  Amelia laughed
. He shot out of the water at her.

  “You pest.” She kicked, just missed his head.

  He doused her with giant sprays of water.

  “Wait till I get my hands on you.” She lunged forward.

  He dodged several times, fell on his back, and pulled her on top of him. “Now, where are those hands you wanted all over me?”

  Gentle waves captured their bodies between incoming swells, rocked them back and forth. Dazzled by their wet nakedness, they closed together while the sun faded from a ball of scorching fire to an orange dot behind them.

  “I really love you,” Vincent said.

  “I know you do.”

  “Never leave me.”

  Sunset turned to dusk. They fell asleep on the blanket, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  Vincent awoke a short time later in darkness. He rose on one elbow, scanning the long beach. A white glow flickered from one of the caves in the rocks. He nudged Amelia. “Hey, wake up.”

  “What happened?” She rubbed her eyes.

  “Someone’s watching us. Get back to the jeep.” He pulled her to her feet.

  “Our clothes?” She searched the sand.

  “I’ll get them.”

  Just after they put on their clothes a fast-moving car turned off the road, blinded them with bright headlights. Vincent pushed Amelia behind the rear of the jeep, ducked next to her. The lights kept moving, closed on them. Vincent peered around the back tire. The speeding car exploded, rocked the jeep, shot hot jagged metal in all directions.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The blast catapulted Vincent over Amelia. He dug out of the sand, sprang next to her half-buried body. “You okay?”

  She blinked, coughing up sand. “I... I think so.”

  “Somebody saved our asses.” He held her head in his arms.

  She trembled against him. “Who?”

  “Can’t figure it yet.” He dusted sand off her face.

  “Look—all the little fires scattered around.”

  He helped her up. “Yeah, some blast. Not much left of that car.”

  She stepped away, wiped her blouse. “This sand is really caked on these wet things.” She shook her clothes, hopped up and down. “Uggghh!”