The Lieutenant's Nurse

by Sara Ackerman

  “You need obedience training,” Eva muttered as she yanked the rope.

  A block before her barracks, while Eva was imagining a steamy shower, Brandy came to an abrupt stop and growled. Eva thought she heard the slap of footsteps on pavement. A rustle in the bush. She was tempted to call out hello, but instead ducked behind a tree, heart skipping along at high speed.

  She looked both ways up and down the street but there was nothing but shadow. Brandy continued on, sounding like an idling engine. As though worrying about the Japanese and Clark weren’t enough, now she was afraid of the dark and those two mysterious men at the hospital. On the edge of all-out panic, Eva scooped Brandy into her arms and broke into a run. She half expected someone to tackle her from behind, but she made it to the front door without any fuss. Why hadn’t she just slept in the hospital hallway with Grace? Or gone to the room with the twins?

  If it had been dark outside, it was a complete blackout inside. Eva ran her hand along the grooved wooden walls to help locate her room. Brandy stayed almost underfoot and Eva nearly tripped over her twice. There would be no switching on the lights, and instead of going for a shower, she pulled off her smelly dress, splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth and laid a towel on the floor for Brandy. Eva heard Brandy sniffing around the towel, and then lay on the bare wooden floor.

  Eva felt for the towel and patted it. “This is your bed, Brandy. Lie down.” Brandy didn’t budge. With not one ounce of energy left to negotiate sleeping arrangements, Eva gave in. “You’re a stubborn thing, aren’t you? Fine, have it your way.”

  Eva was asleep before her lashes hit her cheek. She dreamed of fires and explosions. A torpedo had ripped into the Lurline and they were going under. All the patients in the hospital were suddenly speaking Japanese. Clark and Billy had been roommates all along and she had to pick which one to get on a surfboard with. At some point in the night, Brandy nudged her awake. Horsefeathers, why was there a dog in her bed?

  And then the stab of remembering. Pearl Harbor. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to fall back to sleep but her heart was racing and there were too many thoughts swimming around in her head. She flipped over at least a hundred times. If only she could gather all her loved ones and have them with her at this very moment.

  It wasn’t until early morning, when she rolled toward the edge of the bed to avoid Brandy’s extended legs, that she felt the piece of paper. It crinkled under her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed it when she went to sleep, but then it would have been hard to notice in the dark.

  Where was the stinking flashlight when you needed it? Stumbling around in the dark, Eva finally found it in the back of the desk drawer. Yesterday morning when she’d left, there had been no reason to have a flashlight handy. She returned to bed and pulled the blanket over her head. Brandy was still on her back with her legs stretched out like she was flying. The sudden light burned her eyes, but the words were what sent her entire being into a nosedive.

  DEAR MISS OLSON,

  WE KNOW YOUR IDENTITY. WE KNOW YOU WERE ON THE LURLINE. WE KNOW WHAT YOU KNOW. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND YOUR SECRET STAYS SAFE. TELL A SOUL, AND NOT ONLY WILL YOU BE OUT OF A JOB, BUT YOU AND YOUR LIEUTENANT FRIEND WILL FIND OUT VERY QUICKLY WHAT THE US GOVERNMENT DOES TO SPIES. DID YOU KNOW THAT ABOUT HIM? WE DIDN’T THINK SO. WE ARE WATCHING YOU.

  SAYONARA

  Pricks of heat traveled across her skin. She couldn’t swallow. Her eyes traced the words over and over again. Miss Olson. Lurline. We know what you know. Lieutenant friend. Spies. Who would write such a thing? And who would know all this? Even more frightening was the implication that Clark was a spy. Her mind raced through every conversation, every detail he’d told her. About Japan. About his work. Nothing stood out.

  Surely it was just a scare tactic. They were out to rattle her. Whoever they were—those two men in suits. Her instincts had been correct and it had been obvious they were up to no good. But now they’d gone and broken into her room and threatened her. Her blood pressure rose. If they thought she was going to sit back and forget about it all, they were sorely mistaken. But who could she go to for help? And what if these men already had Clark and were planning to make him a fall guy? Kidnapping a man in his state reeked of desperation. Eva’s mind was a tangle of questions.

  Coffee. She needed coffee and fast. But first she showered, letting the steam loosen her coiled muscles and wash away layers of smoke and death and pain. If it had been up to her, she would have stayed in that shower all day, but it was twenty minutes to six and there was no time to dillydally. Brandy still needed washing and the dog revolted as soon as she saw where Eva was bringing her. But Eva won out. From the color of the water, it might have been her first bath ever. As soon as they were finished, Brandy ran tight circles around the room, leaping from the bed to the floor, skidding on the bare wood and burrowing her head into the rug. With her shiny, mostly white coat restored, she looked like a brand-new dog.

  “Silly thing, you. Come on, we have work to do.”

  On the way to the hospital in her own fresh uniform, Eva tried to make sense of the note. Billy would know what to do. But telling Billy would cause him to wonder about Clark. Telling Billy about Clark right now was almost too much to bear, but he deserved to know. Her mind went back to the spy comment. Word on the radio was that several Japanese diplomats had been arrested soon after the attack, and a Kraut, of all things, but no Americans that she had heard of. Japanese and Germans she could understand, but there was no good reason an American would want to sell out his country unless it was for spite or money, and she couldn’t picture Clark doing any of that. Not to mention the fact that he was almost blown to pieces by the Japanese. No, whoever had written the letter was banking on confusing her. And they had done a fine job.

  * * *

  After sneaking up the back stairs and depositing Brandy in her spot beneath the bed, Eva got to work. Every chance she could, she inquired about Clark. Nurses, doctors, anyone. Did you see him leaving? Being carried out? Did you see the two men in suits?

  “Oh, I noticed those two guys, all right. Trying to blend in but they had G-man written all over them,” said one nurse.

  Eva perked up. “Did you see them with Clark? Or hear them say anything?”

  “I don’t know what Clark looks like, but they were alone when I saw them. Stone-faced and on a mission.”

  Why hadn’t Grace stayed in the room? Why hadn’t Eva? Frustrated at the lack of new information, Eva threw herself into helping those she could. Infections had started in, and they were going through sulfa by the truckload. They cleaned and scrubbed and wrapped limb after limb. She wanted to aid in surgery, but was afraid to go anywhere near Dr. Newcastle. At some point, she knew she’d have to face him, but right now she had even bigger things to worry about.

  “Did you find your friend?” Samuel asked when he woke up.

  “Nope. He’s up and vanished. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?” With that head injury, Samuel was about as unreliable as they came, but she had to ask.

  He stuck a cigarette in his mouth. “Let me think on that. Can I have a light?”

  “What’s there to think on? Either you saw something or you didn’t,” she said, her patience wearing thin.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “You sure are pretty when you’re mad, Miss Emma.”

  “This is serious, Sam.”

  Sam’s face pinched up. “You’re telling me? My buddies are all dead they tell me, half of ’em stuck in a boat on the bottom of the ocean and the other half burnt to a crisp. But you know what? I don’t even remember them. How’s that for serious?” he said.

  “Oh, Sam, I’m sorry for pressing you. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through,” Eva said, sitting on the edge of his bed.

  “Thing is, I don’t remember any of them, so it’s like I never knew ’em at all. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or no
t but right now it makes it easier. You reckon I’m ever going to remember?” he said.

  “Oftentimes memory comes back, but sometimes it doesn’t, so I’d be lying if I said yes.”

  He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “Damn it, how were they able to catch us with our pants down like that?”

  “Good question.”

  Eva debated lighting his cigarette, but in her mind smoke and lungs did not go well together. The problem was, with catchy slogans like “More doctors smoke Camels than any other cigarette,” and photographs of nurses in uniform with a cigarette in hand plastered across newspapers, who was going to listen to her?

  “Smoking is bad for you,” she said.

  “Ah, come on, this cigarette in my mouth is the only thing keeping me going.” He grinned. “This and your pretty friend Gina.”

  “You mean Grace?”

  “Yep, her.”

  “You have a one-track mind, don’t you?” Eva said.

  Sam lit up as though something important just occurred to him. “You know, I did notice your friend propped up on the pillows. He was looking out the window like he was watching a ball game. A real focused face. I wanted to be able to see what he was seeing, but I only see the top of that palm tree from here.”

  This was news. “Lieutenant Spencer?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then I got mixed up in trying to write my letter and, to tell the truth, I might have dozed off.”

  Eva wanted to shake him to see if any new memories spilled out. “If you do remember anything else, please let me know, okay?”

  He saluted. “Roger.”

  She tried to make sense of it. Clark had probably seen the suits, and either they somehow took him, or... Could he have left on his own? If it weren’t for that damn piece of shrapnel. Clark had never talked about where he lived, or where the Dungeon was, but Eva supposed she could find out. But how would she find the time? And with all the suspicion going around, she wasn’t likely to get very far. But she had to know.

  Grace burst in and announced, “Men around the hospital are asking for Brandy. Did you bring her in today?”

  “Against better judgment,” Eva said.

  “Sometimes you have to go with what your heart tells you to do. And my heart says these boys need her more than they need food and water.”

  “Do you know where Newcastle is?” Eva asked.

  “In surgery. Take her to see John Turner first, the guy with the broken arm.”

  They made the rounds again, but this time, Eva cut up a piece of sheet, drew a red cross on it and tied it around Brandy’s neck. They hadn’t been back in the recovery room more than twenty seconds when the door swung open and Dr. Newcastle swept in. “There you are, Cassidy. Come with me.”

  She could have sworn he drew out Cassidy like he wanted to emphasize it. Her pulse bumped up. Head tingled. This was it. She glanced under the bed at Brandy and held her hand up in a stay command. Eva pleaded with her eyes.

  Newcastle led her into the operating room without a word. When they arrived, there was a slight man on the table. A blanket lay over him, but he was still shivering. Black hair, tan skin. Pale. His eyes were closed, but from what Eva could tell, he was Japanese.

  Newcastle said to the other nurse in the room, “You can go.”

  “Is he enemy?” Eva asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  The question floated there between them. You are in dangerous waters, Eva. She remembered the interaction with Dr. Izumi on Sunday and how Dr. Newcastle sent him off to the morgue.

  For Eva, there was only one answer. “I’m a nurse, not a judge, Doctor. I took an oath to save lives. And skin color was never a concern.”

  His face gave nothing away. “He’s Hawaii National Guard from what I understand. Alan Sakamaki. Shot near Schofield on patrol. Some trigger-happy soldier shot first, asked questions later.”

  Eva caught her gasp with a hand over her mouth.

  “A sorry case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I want you with me on this one. This guy needs to live. Bullet to the neck and abdomen, neither exited. Lost a lot of blood,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Every once in a while, life hands you a big surprise. Dr. Newcastle had gone and done the unexpected, and Eva felt a flush of pride. Or maybe he was testing her? Think about it later, she ordered herself.

  As Eva prepared the ether, she spoke softly to Alan. “This should not have happened to you, you hear me? We need you to hang in there.”

  No response.

  Something inside her felt as if it might break. “Look at me if you can hear me.”

  His eyes fluttered open, short lashes, black with fear. It was a look she would never forget. “My wife. She’s due any day now,” he managed to say before his head rolled to the side and he was out again.

  Eva said a special prayer for this one. She was furious at the injustice that his own men had done this to him. And determined that one more woman would not lose a husband today.

  She touched him gently on the arm. “You may miss the birth, but you will see it grow up. And that’s an order.”

  With such severe shock, anesthesia was dosed differently. And heaven forbid, no sodium thiopental. They also added another line of plasma. The bullet to the neck had lodged in Alan’s rib, but Dr. Newcastle managed to extract it. The abdomen was another story. “His large intestine is perforated. I’m going to have to remove part of it.”

  Eva stayed on the vitals. Blood pressure dropped dangerously low. A coolness came over her despite the mounting pressure. “You’ll need to work faster,” she said as evenly as she could.

  Dr. Newcastle’s jaw clenched and beads of sweat turned his forehead into a glistening dome. He looked up at her, almost said something, then stopped himself. He switched out his scalpel and went back to snipping and sewing. She had to force herself to stay focused.

  When it was all over, Newcastle said, “He just may make it.”

  “I have a feeling he will,” Eva said.

  Dr. Newcastle pulled off his surgical mask. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”

  THE TALK

  At half past one, a Gray Lady with bright red lips brought around a tray of egg salad sandwiches and lemonade. Eva wondered who had time for lipstick in a place like this, but she was happy to take two sandwiches off her hands. One for herself, one for Brandy. She and Grace and Judy sat around the desk at the nurses’ station and swallowed them down.

  “Do any of you know where the Dungeon is?” Eva asked.

  “What on earth?” Judy said.

  Eva explained. “It’s what Clark called the room they worked in. I need to see if any of them know where he is.”

  Grace waited until she was done chewing before answering. “We can ask around.”

  “If it has to do with his code-breaking business, it may be secret,” Judy said.

  “I have to try.”

  Grace assured her, “With all these men in here, someone is bound to know something.”

  “It terrifies me thinking that he’s out there somewhere so weak and vulnerable. And what’s even worse is I don’t even know if he’s still alive,” she said.

  Picturing Clark out there somewhere, dangerously wounded, made her bones ache.

  Judy grabbed her hand. “Until you know for sure he’s dead, be thankful. At least there’s a chance. And right now, I would give anything for a chance.”

  Eva squeezed her hand. There were so many degrees of pain in the world, but it seemed like whichever one was yours at that moment, was the absolute worst there was. Until you were around someone like Judy. “I know you would, sweetie,” Eva said.

  Grace piped up. “I feel responsible. I should have stayed in the room.”

  Eva set d
own her lemonade. “Heavens, this is not your fault. None of us could have guessed.”

  If anyone were to blame, it was Eva herself. Not just for Clark, but for the whole smoky mess. Even if it had meant calling up the newspaper and making an anonymous report. Anything would have been better than sitting quietly with the information that might have changed everything.

  “You want someone to blame? Blame those bloody Japanese pilots,” Judy said with enough hate to sink a battleship.

  That ended the conversation quickly.

  * * *

  After lunch, Eva ran Brandy out back to do her business. Standing in the sun was like standing in a furnace on full blast. Standing in the shade wasn’t much better. Brandy decided she wanted to roll in a pile of leaves and dirt, which only seemed natural given she had just been bathed.

  “As if I don’t have enough dirt on my hands,” Eva muttered.

  Brandy cocked her head as if saying, Who, me?

  “Yes, you!”

  Nevertheless, it was hard to stay mad at her when she looked at you with those chocolate eyes.

  “Evelyn, darling!”

  Billy was walking toward her. He looked as though he’d aged ten years overnight. He opened his arms wide, and Eva was at a loss for what to do. As his arms closed around her, she felt her body tense up, cold and stony.

  “I would have come back sooner but as you can imagine, we’ve been working around the clock. How are you?” he said.

  Her voice was flat. “Exhausted, but hanging in there. What about you?”

  “I’ve been better. Stayed up all night trying to get a handle on what comes next. Meetings in smoky rooms with a lot of angry men,” he said with a forced laugh.

  He was squeezing her a little too hard and the realization slammed into her that there was a good chance this would be their last hug.

  Eva wiggled free. She was done pretending. “I need your help.”