The Lieutenant's Nurse

by Sara Ackerman

  Another voice. “He’s not breathing!”

  At some point, Eva realized this was no dream. She opened her eyes and saw a flurry of movement in the dim light. Someone had pulled the blankets off the windows and gray morning light shone in. Who wasn’t breathing? She bolted upright and immediately looked at Clark, still sleeping and pale, but not blue. Judy was running out the door and Grace was leaning over Jack, performing chest compressions. Brandy sat on the foot of his bed staring him down. The dog’s look reminded Eva of her own watchfulness over Clark, and how she’d been willing him to live.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. He was fine twenty minutes ago. I was changing Sam’s bandages, and when I turned around I saw him like this.”

  One glance and Eva knew he was done. Not even an intracardiac injection would help at this point. Against all odds, she had hoped he would pull through.

  Dr. Newcastle came sweeping in with Judy at his heels.

  “Is that a dog, or am I seeing things?” he said.

  Eva scooped Brandy into her arms. “It came in with Jack, Doctor.”

  “Why is it still in here?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he studied Jack for all of two seconds. “I’m sorry, but it’s too late for this man.”

  There was still a faded M and T on Jack’s forehead, offset by his blue skin. He looked so young and innocent, so boyish. War does not care about age. No one wants any of their patients to die on their watch, but Eva had developed a fondness for Jack. Something about the way he had pleaded for her to watch Brandy, as though Brandy was his own child, had touched her. And maybe also that he was in some way attached to Clark.

  “I shouldn’t have been sleeping,” Eva said.

  “Your eyes were closing of their own accord. You had to,” Grace said, stepping away from the bed.

  “But—”

  “Stop there. We all slept at one point or another. What good are we to the boys if we can’t keep our own eyes open?” Grace said with her arms crossed.

  Dr. Newcastle seemed unfazed. “Ladies, I have rounds to make. This dog needs to be removed from the hospital at once, or do I have to toss it out the window?”

  Eva pressed her lips together. She was already on his bad side. “We’ll handle it,” she said.

  Once he was out, Grace sat down in the middle of the floor and burst into tears. Eva knelt down and hugged her.

  “He reminded me of my little brother, and he was such a kind soul,” Grace said, crying into Eva’s shoulder. “I was rooting for him.”

  “We all were,” Eva said.

  Men had died in droves here, and men were going to keep on dying. The key was to try not to get attached, but that was as easy as it would be to swim back to America. And then there were always those patients that pulled you in, no matter how hard you tried to keep a wall up. The ones that had the same eyes as your uncle, or your brother’s laugh, and they struck a chord that vibrated higher than the rest.

  Eva was stroking Grace’s silky hair when she noticed Clark watching them. His expression was unreadable but he spoke with conviction. “If that doctor so much as touches Brandy, he’ll have me to contend with,” he said.

  Eva smiled, not wanting to point out the obvious—he was in no shape to stand up for anyone, let alone a stray dog. “You and the rest of the men in this room, I imagine,” she said.

  “I’ll second that,” Samuel said.

  Brandy had gone and made herself indispensable in less than twenty-four hours. If only someone would tell that to Dr. Newcastle.

  “Noted,” Eva said.

  At least she should take Brandy outside to do her business. Maybe she could leave her in their room in the nurses’ barracks. But the men wanted her. They needed her. Could Eva risk it?

  “Come on, girl, let’s get you outside,” Eva said.

  Brandy retreated under Jack’s bed and stood her ground, requiring Eva to get down on all fours.

  “Maybe some food would help,” Grace said.

  “I don’t have any food.”

  Grace pulled a few crackers out of her pocket and they held them out for the dog, who hunkered down against the wall. It wasn’t until two men came from the morgue to collect Jack that Brandy came out with her tail between her legs again and her head lowered. Eva attached a string around her neck and followed the men downstairs.

  Outside, sunlight cracked through the clouds and the ground was damp. On any other day, she would have been gawking at the flowers and mist-filled valleys that the hospital backed up to. Now all she could think about was getting back inside.

  Instead of going to the morgue, the men wheeling Jack’s body continued down the street to an auditorium, where they’d set up a makeshift one. Brandy tried to follow them through the red wooden door. When it shut in her face, she sat down and began a soul-splitting groan that turned into a howl.

  “This is where we say goodbye,” Eva said to Brandy, rubbing her neck.

  The dog’s nose twitched and her ears stood straight. Eva wanted to turn and run the other way but Brandy planted herself on the sidewalk and refused to budge again. Given a choice, she probably would have sat there her whole lifetime.

  “I’m sorry, Brandy. We have to go,” Eva said gently.

  Sorry. Such a useless word.

  * * *

  When Eva arrived back in the room, two of the prostitutes were handing out coffee and sugary blobs of dough. Lehua had changed into a gray Red Cross dress and now looked like a perfectly respectable woman.

  “May I have two cups, please?” Eva said.

  Lehua smiled. “Take three if it helps. And these malasadas will stick in your gut all day long.”

  Eva looked at Grace, whose lips were coated in sugar and cheeks packed full. Eva took two.

  “What did you do with the dog?” Grace asked once she had swallowed the malasada.

  Eva walked to the back window and looked down. “I tied her to the big tree out there with a bucket of water. That way I can keep an eye on her.”

  Brandy had not been pleased with the arrangement, at once wrapping the rope around the trunk six times and allowing herself only one foot of slack. Eva unwound her and left her sulking with her head resting on her paws and a long look on her face. At least she had stopped howling.

  Judy had found a radio and set it up on a card table. She moved around like a woman on a mission, and Eva worried about what would happen when the initial shock of losing Sid wore off. The big news was that FDR was going to address the country at any minute. When his voice came on all crackly through the speaker, you could have heard a feather fall. Eva looked around at all the faces. Every man was glued to his words.

  “Yesterday, December 7, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan....

  “But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us.

  “No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

  “I believe I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.

  “Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.

  “With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph—so help us God. I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.”

  Cheers erupted. And just like that, the
United States had entered the war. Eva glanced at Clark, who happened to be watching her.

  “Nurse, can you come over here for a moment?” he said.

  She was by his side in a second. “What is it?”

  “Sit.”

  Eva sat. Being this close to him, she noticed a strange smell, like vinegar. Was it Clark? Maybe it was time to get him changed. In all the haste and turmoil, most of the soldiers hadn’t been thoroughly bathed and cleaned and many still wore their clothes from yesterday. Burnt, oiled, bloodied.

  Grace gave her a wink and headed out. “I’m going to see if they need help in Burns.”

  Clark stared at her as though memorizing the lines of her face. His eyes searching. She touched her hair self-consciously and focused on the fleck in his eye. There was so much she had wanted to say, and now she was voiceless.

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he finally muttered.

  “Did you turn in the report? Tell anyone?” she asked.

  “Straight off the boat. But I was instructed to keep quiet.” Dried spit had formed in the corners of his mouth and she was tempted to wipe it away. “Not even tell my boss. It seemed unusual, and I had made up my mind to tell him on Sunday afternoon.”

  He paused to catch his breath.

  “Not one person in charge I’ve spoken to has mentioned knowing the attack was coming. What do you think is going on?” she asked.

  The two men next to them were asleep, but Eva noticed Samuel across the room, straining to listen in. She held her finger to her lips.

  He whispered, “For whatever reason, someone wanted this under wraps. And these people mean business, Eva.”

  She didn’t like his tone. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we have never had this conversation. Not on the ship, not here. If anything happens to me, you hardly even knew me. Got that?”

  “Are you saying they knew and did nothing about it?” she said.

  His look told her everything she needed to know. Good Lord! Who would knowingly let an attack like this happen? An island in ruin and half the Pacific fleet underwater. The room suddenly felt colder.

  “Promise me you’ll let this go if I don’t—” he said.

  She cut him off before he could finish. “Not another word. We’re going to patch you up today and you’ll be well in no time.”

  Eva’s hand rested on his limp arm. Their eyes locked. She hadn’t known him long enough to feel so much, and yet her heart said otherwise. Clark dying was not a possibility. He opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to think the better of it. Nothing Eva could say would be enough, so she bent down and kissed him on the cheek. Her lips lingered and wanted to stay there until his wounds healed over and the seasons changed. He turned so his mouth was on hers. Soft lips. Hot breath. The space under her ribs hummed. Eva was careful not to lean on him or press into his chest, while at the same time channeling every last ounce of love into the kiss.

  “Eva,” he whispered.

  The door creaked and she glanced over. It was cracked but no one had come in. Kissing gravely wounded patients was not standard medical protocol and she forced herself to pull away. At the same time, a black nose with whiskers poked out from under the bed.

  “You little sneak,” Eva said with a laugh.

  Brandy hunkered down with her tail wagging. She knew she’d been naughty, but who wanted to sit outside under a tree when all the people needing love were inside? Eva patted the bed next to her thigh. Brandy stood and placed her front paws up. Her whole body wagged along with her tail.

  Clark moved his hand so it was in reach. “Hey, little lady.”

  Eva looked out the window and saw a frayed rope tied to the tree. “I should have known she’d break free.”

  It was nice to have hospital rooms with such big windows, and yet word was they would be painted black sooner than later.

  “At least you tried,” he said.

  “You heard the doctor—she can’t stay.”

  There was that one-sided dimple. “Dumb rules are meant to be broken,” he said.

  “I like your thinking. In the meantime, get some sleep. Dr. Newcastle wants to get you into surgery again this morning and remove that shrapnel.”

  His eyes were closed before she could blink.

  ROWBOAT TO CHINA

  September 21, 1941

  Life is nothing but a series of choices, so choose wisely. Those words from her father bellowed out in her mind. Earlier that morning, Evelyn had made a choice that had killed a man. If not directly to blame for his death, she had chosen to walk out when she should have stood her ground. That much had become clear. The world had blown up around her and she needed to try to set things right. Jed Lemon deserved to know the truth.

  Before opening the door to the main hospital, she smoothed down her hair and attempted to compose herself. Her footsteps echoed off the cool linoleum. The hospital suddenly felt like a giant tomb. Halfway down the hallway, she heard a loud voice reverberating pain off the walls. Her first instinct was to duck into the bathroom, but that would only prolong the inevitable.

  “I want immediate action. No one this incompetent should be able to practice in my hospital. Or anywhere for that matter.”

  Evelyn knew the voice. Jed Lemon. Her immediate reaction was a powerful wave of relief. Someone else had finally come to the realization that Dr. Brown’s surgical skills had long since expired. That he was a man clinging to a practice he should have packed up years ago. Any of the younger doctors would be eager to step in and take his place, and she would be eager to have them.

  As she approached the nurses’ station, people scattered like marbles. Brown was nowhere to be seen and the expressions of several nurses as they passed by were grim. Dr. Oswald had gone so far as giving her a wide berth as though whatever she’d done was catching.

  What on earth had Jed Lemon been told?

  A cataclysmic realization dawned on her just as a red-faced Jed Lemon came barreling down the hallway in her direction.

  “You!” he yelled. “Goddamn killer of my son. Tommy is dead because of you. I always knew that women were not fit to be anything other than bandage changers, but no one would listen to me. They’ll listen now, won’t they?” Spit sprayed from his mouth and his face contorted with every word. “It may be too late for Tommy, but you’re done here.”

  Not only was Jed Lemon mayor, he was on the hospital board and about every other board in town. You could build a house from all the boards he was on.

  Evelyn felt as though he’d hauled off and hit her in the stomach with a sledgehammer. “Sir, there’s been a mistake here. I wasn’t even in the room. Please—”

  “Overdose him with sodium thiopental and then run out in the middle of surgery? I’d say that was more than a mistake, you dumb bitch.”

  Jed towered over her, spewing hate and foul-smelling breath. This was a man in the worst kind of pain, but he wasn’t making sense. “Running out in the middle of surgery? What are you talking about?” she asked, flipping through her memory of that morning.

  “You know exactly. Some nerve you have coming in here. I were you, I’d be in a rowboat to China.” He grabbed her arm, fingers digging into her flesh. “I hope you have some other skill besides nursing, because you’re going to need it wherever you go.”

  Evelyn tried to wiggle free, but his grip was like shackles. “But I told Dr. Brown not to use the sodium thiopental!”

  Something like a laugh. “Blaming it on the doc, huh?”

  “I’ve had training—”

  “I would have expected more from the daughter of Dr. Olson, but you clearly don’t take after him.”

  “Sir, please hear me out.”

  “I’ve heard enough, now get away from me before I have you arrested.”

  Was that even a possibility?

  “You have it al
l wrong,” Evelyn said, backing away when she saw him raising an arm, tears streaming down her face. “Please.”

  “Go!” he snarled.

  Evelyn went. Someone needed to talk some sense into this man, but Milly was right. She was not the person. Now was not the time. No matter which way you sliced it, it was Dr. Brown’s word against hers.

  ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE

  December 8

  Dear Ruby,

  By now, you surely know all about the attack at Pearl Harbor. A place that up until three days ago, no one outside these islands had ever heard of. I assure you that I am currently fine in health, in body if not in spirit. I wish I could say the same for the boys. The air still smells like burnt oil and smoke, and everyone is walking around with blank faces in a state of shock. There are things I wish I could tell you, but they are not things anyone wants to hear. About the soldiers we’ve been treating and the unspeakable things they have endured—the entire harbor was a burning field of oil with people swimming through it. I will spare you, though I’m sure you have seen photographs in the papers. Everyone on this island is walking on pins and needles and hiding out in the dark, terrified about an invasion on our shores. A fellow nurse carries a gun wherever she goes, ready to shoot herself rather than be taken alive by the Japanese.

  And all the while, I am half-mad wondering if I could have turned the Day of Infamy on its side. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. When things settle, if they settle, I will attempt to call you and explain.

  Sending love, and asking for heaps and heaps of prayers. Take good care.

  Your friend,

  Eva

  At half past one, Dr. Newcastle came in and checked on Clark, announcing he was up next for surgery. Eva was torn between wanting to assist and wanting to hide out in the closet and hold her breath throughout the procedure. Unfortunately, this was not her choice to make.

  “You are to stay out, you hear me?” he said.

  Despite his wounds, Clark had stabilized with all the fluids and the rest. There was always the danger of operating so close to the heart, and of infection, which she had been carefully monitoring, but she would have to give it up to God.