Amelia

by Harvey Mendez

  She held his face in her hands. “I know, I know.”

  “You kept me alive, too,” Vincent said. “I saw you during the storm—you guided me to our island.”

  The crowd around them began clapping, cheering. Vincent and Amelia embraced harder, laughed.

  “I’m a wanted man,” he said.

  “Yeah, I want you,” she said.

  The bartender set a napkin on the bar in front of Amelia’s back. “Someone left this for you.”

  Vincent saw the bright red lipstick marks on it and pushed Amelia out of his grasp. He whirled around, saw a tall figure step from the shadows training a pistol on them. He reached for his gun, heard a battering behind him.

  The backdoor burst open. “Dragon Red!” Tad squeezed off three rounds from his .45 caliber automatic.

  Patrons scattered, ducked under tables. Vincent and Amelia dove to the scarred plank flooring. Ruth clutched her middle. The Luger dangled from her fingers, hung for a moment, and fell to the floor. Then she slumped down.

  Tad walked over to the body, stared down at Ruth. He caught Vincent’s gaze. “Damn, she still looks good.”

  “Only because you missed the head shot. Three shots, Tad? Better hit the firing range.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Vincent looked at Ruth’s still body. “She just wouldn’t give up. All these years—how she hated me.”

  “Better move her out of here.” Tad started for the doors.

  “Wait.”

  Tad stopped.

  “Another dead body . . .” Vincent said. “You’ve cleaned up after me enough.”

  “Oh, by the way, a Luger killed Ito, not a .45.”

  Vincent scratched his beard. “Guess I’ve been an idiot long enough.”

  “Only as long as I’ve known you.” Tad flashed a big smile.

  Amelia pushed them together. “You’re both idiots—now kiss and make up.”

  Blue plowed through the swinging doors, saw the body. “I should’ve known.” He pointed to the trio. “Just old friends getting back together.”

  “Blue,” Amelia said, “how’d you get here?”

  “Bob, my relief man, called.”

  “Thanks, buddy,” Vincent said. “Thanks for hiding me.”

  “My pleasure, mate.”

  Vincent turned to Amelia. “Now that everything’s all cleared up, what’ll we do for excitement?”

  “Oh, there’ll be excitement. I’ve got Dad’s papers. Mother took them back home. Then, there’s the wedding.”

  “Wedding?” Vincent’s eyes widened.

  Amelia smiled up at him. “I read your letter and the answer’s yes.”

  “How? I thought I tore that up.” He looked at Tad.

  Tad screwed up his face. “It was very well-written.”

  “Thanks, pal.” Vincent brushed Tad’s shoulder with his fist. “You always did cover for me. Hadn’t heard our ‘Dragon Red’ code for quite a while, though.”

  “Danger’s danger.”

  They both smiled.

  Tad scanned the room, saw everyone under tables, flattened on the floor. “We’re out of danger, folks. You can get up now.” He grabbed a tablecloth, draped it over Ruth’s body.

  “Okay, boys,” Amelia said, “back to the wedding. I promised Mother we’d be married on Saipan. Father Quantero would be awfully disappointed if we didn’t. Besides, Tad’s going to be our best man.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  Tad beamed. “I always was the best man.”

  “That’s great,” Vincent said, “except I’ve got a problem with that. Don’t think I can wait till Saipan.”

  Amelia put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’ve got a little problem, too. You have to promise me you won’t go traipsing around on your own anymore.”

  “Guess I could hold it down a bit.” He embraced her. “But I thought every day should be a little exciting.”

  Amelia lifted her head, closed her eyes. “Leave that to me.”

  “I know when I’m not needed.” Tad threw an arm around Blue. “Better get an ambulance here.” He looked at Ruth’s body. “Clean up this place, will you Blue.”

  Blue saw the smile on Tad’s face. “Sure—sure, mate.”

  Vincent touched Amelia’s lips. She opened her dark eyes, gazed into his.

  “Just thought of something,” he said. “It’s the 2nd of July.”

  “The day AE disappeared.” She felt his arms tighten around her.

  * * * *

  The morning of Vincent and Amelia’s wedding began with Joaquina bustling about the kitchen preparing an island feast. Her eyes drooped, felt tired; she hadn’t slept well. She had to tell Amelia the truth before she married—but how?

  Vincent and Amelia walked into the room.

  Joaquina looked up. “Isn’t it bad luck to see each other before the wedding?”

  “Oh, Mother,” Amelia said, “I don’t think that’s true. We just found each other. Almost like coming back from the dead.”

  “We’ll never be apart again.” Vincent said.

  “Well then, both of you please sit down—there’s a story I must tell you. Only wish Stan were here, it’d be much easier.”

  “Is it about Dad?” Amelia said.

  Joaquina lowered her eyes. “No, it concerns Amelia Earhart.” She paused. “I don’t know where to begin. It was such a long time ago.”

  “Did Dad find her?”

  “I wish it was that simple. What I’m going to tell you, I know.” Joaquina set her jaw. “She was on Saipan. The Japanese held her and Fred Noonan at Garapan Prison. Such a sad thing, everybody heard about their suffering. Mr. Noonan never regained his strength. One day, he just disappeared.”

  Amelia’s face paled. “I knew they were there.” She turned to Vincent.

  He cupped his hands over hers. “What happened to AE?”

  Joaquina sat in a chair. “The soldiers were so cruel. She knew if she gave in to their attempts to break her, that her treatment would be better. They thought she was a spy. But she fought them, wouldn’t tell them anything.”

  “Sounds like her.” Amelia sat on her chair’s edge.

  “She was very lonely. Only two other women were confined in the prison. One Japanese, the other white, but the guards didn’t let them speak to each other.”

  “AE wouldn’t let that get to her,” Amelia said.

  “Such awful men. They tortured her—first no food, then bad food and water. She became very ill with dysentery. Lucky a young officer befriended her, kept her alive.”

  “Marvin told us about that,” Amelia said.

  Joaquina wiped her neck with a handkerchief. “My father worked at Garapan. Did odd jobs, cleaned the cellblocks when the Japanese ordered. He felt so sorry for the prisoners in such squalid conditions.”

  “Poor AE.” Amelia furrowed her brows.

  Vincent sat listening. All the years he’d been searching, he knew he’d been right. She’d gone down on orders—the Japanese picked her up right on schedule.

  Joaquina swallowed hard. “Two years later, a baby girl was born inside the walls.”

  “A baby girl? Whose?”

  “I’m not certain. The Japanese carefully guarded the secret. They took the baby from her mother shortly after birth and left her in the trash to die.”

  Amelia’s lips quivered. “How could anyone do that?”

  “Someone higher up than the commandant ordered it.”

  Vincent shifted in his chair. “Was Ito Sakura involved then?”

  “He was on the island.”

  “Did the baby die?” Amelia asked.

  Joaquina took a breath. “It just happened that particular day, Papa threw some trash on the garbage heap near one of the prison walls. He heard muffled sounds, a baby’s cries.”

  “She was still alive?” Amelia leaned forward.

  “Papa fumbled through the filth and found the baby under a pile of cardboard cartons. He had to save her. What a pretty, fragile flower she was, one born
with luck.”

  “How’d he get her out?”

  “He wrapped her in an old blanket,” Joaquina said, “and put her in his lunch satchel—hid her in a supply closet. He told the commandant his daughter had the measles and thought he was coming down with them. The guards rushed him out without the usual check.”

  “Lucky the baby didn’t cry—poor little thing.”

  “She must’ve been in shock. They would’ve executed him on the spot if they’d found her.”

  Amelia shook her head. “What a brave man.”

  “Well, he brought the baby home. We lived alone since my mother’s death. Such a precious baby... I loved her from the beginning. We called her Meiko.”

  Amelia looked surprised. “A Japanese name.”

  “Her father was Japanese. The name seemed to fit her—means ‘beautiful flower’.”

  “Weren’t you afraid?”

  “Yes, but we had to save Meiko’s life, no matter what. After many close calls, Papa decided I should flee with her to Guam.”

  Amelia brushed a hand across her forehand. “What year was that?”

  “Nineteen Thirty-nine.”

  “The year I was born.” She stared into her mother’s eyes.

  Vincent sat with his eyes fixed on Joaquina, his mouth open.

  Joaquina’s lips moved but nothing came out. She touched Amelia’s hand.

  “Mother, what are you saying?”

  Joaquina blinked. “You were born at Garapan Prison.”

  Amelia cupped her hands over her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice wavered. “I had a right to know.”

  “When you were little, the Japanese would’ve killed you if they had found out. After the war, time just flew by.”

  Amelia’s eyes filled with tears. “Was AE my mother?”

  “I’m not sure.” Joaquina put an arm around her. “But in my heart, I feel she was. You two are so much alike.”

  Amelia squeezed Joaquina.

  “It’s okay, honey.” Joaquina patted her daughter.

  Amelia tried to control her tears but they streamed down her face. “I always knew there was a bond between us. I only wish I’d known before.”

  “Too dangerous. Amelia Earhart was big news then.”

  “She still is,” Vincent said. “Many people still want to know what happened to her and two governments won’t tell.”

  “Stan and I often discussed it.” Joaquina looked at Amelia. “We didn’t want to lose you.” She bowed her head. “Please forgive me.”

  Amelia’s face brightened. “I do, Mother.” She loved her so much—only mother she’d ever known. She walked around the table, put her arms around Joaquina.

  “I think Ito ordered the baby killed,” Joaquina said. “He was in the Imperial Navy—appeared just after Amelia Earhart did. Snooped around the whole island. Even the Japanese soldiers were afraid of him. He almost caught us.”

  “Ito must have known,” Amelia said, “and told Harry. Things they said—now they make sense. But, they never called me Meiko. Why did you change my name?”

  “Because Stan had loved Amelia Earhart. I met him on Guam where I worked for an American officer and his wife. He was crazy about you, insisted we call you Amelia . . .” Joaquina’s voice trailed off. Tears formed in her brown eyes.

  Amelia felt Joaquina’s pain. “It’s all right. It just seems unreal.”

  “Amelia Earhart was a fine woman. I never blamed Stan for loving her.”

  Amelia hugged her. “Thank you, Mother, for telling me.”

  “You’ll always be my baby.” She stroked Amelia’s hair.

  “I know and I’ll always love you.” She relaxed. “What do you think happened to my natural mother?”

  “You mean, if she was Amelia Earhart?”

  “Yes.”

  Joaquina’s face tightened. “I’m not exactly sure. Rumors reached Guam she was executed. Others said they took her to Tokyo. Stan tried many years to find out. It got him killed.”

  Amelia flinched. “I really miss Dad.”

  “So do I. Stan was a good man—little crazy at times, but a good man. A lot like Vincent. He loved us both very much.”

  “I do too.” Vincent wiped his brow. “You two mean more to me than anything else in the world—or out of the world if that’s where AE is.” He grasped both their hands. “That was such a story, I’m just overwhelmed.”

  “Well then,” Joaquina said, “I think it’s time we had that long overdue wedding.”

  Vincent and Amelia winked at each other and laughed.

  * * * *

  Joaquina’s tables were decorated with island flowers and fruits and a huge wedding cake. Tad, Marvin, and Blue sat mesmerized by the happy couple. Amelia’s long, black hair was draped with white plumerias and her wedding muumuu was flowered silk. Vincent riveted his eyes on her alone.

  After a blessing by Father Quantero, Tad lifted his champagne glass to Vincent and Amelia. “If ever true love prevailed, it prevailed for you.”

  Amelia locked arms with Vincent, kissed him. Everyone clapped.

  Joaquina stood. “It’s been such a wonderful day, I must share one more thing with all of you. Somehow, we are connected to Amelia Earhart.” She walked into her bedroom, dragged Stan’s trunk to the table. Lifting the lid, she pulled out a weathered piece of paper. “Right before he was killed, your father found this.” She unfolded the paper, handed it to Amelia.

  Amelia stared at the handwritten note. It had Japanese markings but was written in English. She read out loud.

  “Miss Earhart, everyday when I stop by your cell, I see your look of despair. I see flesh just clinging to your bones—I cannot stand it. I know you are enemy, but to me you will always be the soaring eagle, the wings of courage. I bribed the guards—they know my exploits in the sky above China. I will bring extra food, the right food—to get you well—to make you smile again. Please do not think me too bold. You have captured my heart ever since I was a cadet. Because of my injuries, I cannot go back to war. I pray our counties do not fight each other.”

  Amelia looked at the lapse in writing. “Wonder what happened there?” She glanced around the table, then continued reading.

  “I did not show you the first part of this letter. Now, after a few months, you are well. You smile. We talk, gaze at each other. You must know how I feel. I cannot hold back. Seeing you everyday regain your strength, your color, your purpose, makes me proud I have helped you. I must get you out of here, but it seems hopeless. I never imagined you would return my feelings. Maybe you too, are resigned to the hopelessness—the finality. If we are ever found out, I will have to meet my ancestors to save face. A small price to pay for your love. If only we could leave a part of us behind, for the future.”

  Amelia felt a shiver. Her eyes moistened. “It’s not signed.”

  “We weren’t the only brave ones.” Vincent looked around the table. No one said a word.

  “When Ito kidnapped me and found Dad’s trunk during the storm, he tossed a lot of the papers overboard. I’m so thankful that this letter was buried somewhere near the bottom.”

  Joaquina cuddled her daughter. “My baby.”

  Amelia pressed close. “Meiko, my name is Meiko Amelia.”