And as always, Crystal stood on the fringe of the younger groups, almost forgotten except for an occasional glance of envy or admiration. The girls always eyed her cautiously, and the boys, in recent years, had been fascinated by her, although they expressed it oddly at times, pushing and shoving, and even tugging at the long blond hair, or pretending to spar with her, or push her too hard, or doing anything they could physically to catch her attention, without actually talking to her. And the girls tried not to talk to her at all. Her looks made her much too threatening. She was set apart from them without understanding why. It was the price she paid for her beauty. She accepted the way they treated her as something that was, without yet understanding why. Sometimes, when the boys pushed her, and she was feeling brave, she shoved them right back, or hit them, or even tripped them when they annoyed her. It was her only communication with them. And the rest of the time they ignored her. She had known them all since they were born, and yet in recent years, it was as though she had become a stranger. The children were as aware as their elders were of how striking she was, how breathtakingly lovely. But no one knew how to deal with it. They were simple folk and it was as though in the past year or two, she had become someone different. It had particularly struck the boys coming home from the war, after four years away, they were shocked to see what had happened to Crystal. Always pretty as a little girl, there had been nothing about her at ten to suggest the full force of her beauty as she became a woman. But part of her appeal was that she was as yet unaware of her effect on the men around her, and she was still as patient and good-natured as she had been as a little girl. If anything, she was shyer now, because she knew her effect on those around her had altered subtly, but she didn't know why. Only her brother treated her as he always had, with rude affection. But her lack of awareness about her looks made her innocence all the more sensual, a fact of which her father was well aware, and for two years now he had told her to stop hanging around the ranch hands. He knew exactly what they were thinking and why, and he didn't want Crystal unwittingly doing something to provoke them. Her gentleness and silent way of moving among them was far more arousing than walking past them stark naked.
But Tad wasn't worried about her now, as he talked politics and sports and local gossip and grape prices with his friends. It was a happy day for all of them as their friends ate and talked and laughed, and the children played nearby, while Crystal watched them.
Hiroko stood slightly apart from all of them too, beneath the shade of a tree, silent and alone, her eyes never leaving her husband. Boyd was talking to Tom in a circle of friends, reminiscing about the war. It was hard to believe it had ended less than a year before. It seemed lifetimes behind them now, with its terrors and its excitement, the friends they had made, and those they had lost. Only Hiroko stood there now, as a living reminder of where they had been, and what they still remembered. She was eyed with open hostility, and none of the women approached her. Even her sister-in-law, Ginny Webster, was careful to shun her. Ginny was wearing a tight pink dress, low cut over her full bosom, with a matching jacket with little white polka dots, and a peplum which accentuated her shapely bottom. She was laughing even louder than the rest, and flirting with all of Boyd's friends, just as she had years before when Boyd brought them home after school and she tried to captivate her brother's buddies. But her effect and her style were far different from Crystal's. She was overtly sexual with her bright red hair and her tight dress and her obvious makeup. She had been talked about for years, and the men loved to slip an arm around her shoulders and get a good look down her dress to her ample bosom. It brought back memories for many of them. Since she'd turned thirteen, Ginny had always been generous with her favors.
What you got there, Ginny? The groom sidled up to her, smelling of something stronger than the wine Tad was serving. A few of the men had been drinking whiskey in the barn, and Tom had, as always, been quick to join them. He eyed her now with obvious interest as he squeezed her close to him, and let his hand slip under her jacket. She was holding Becky's bouquet, but he wasn't referring to the flowers. He was looking straight into her cleavage. Did you catch the bouquet? Guess you're next. He laughed raucously, displaying good teeth and the smile that had won Becky's heart years before. But Ginny knew more of him than that, which to some, was no secret.
I told you I'd be getting married pretty soon, Tom Parker. She giggled at him, and he pulled her even closer, as Boyd blushed and looked away from his sister and his friend, catching sight of his tiny ivory bride, watching them from the distance. Boyd felt a pang as he looked at Hiroko then. It was rare that he left her side, but today, as Tom's best man, it was hard to be as attentive to her as he would have liked. But as Ginny and Tom teased and laughed, Boyd quietly slipped away, and went to find Hiroko. She smiled as he approached, and he felt his heart tug as it always did when he looked into her gentle eyes. She had brought him comfort a long way from home, and she had been devoted to him every moment since she'd arrived in the valley. It broke his heart to see how unkind people were to her. Despite his friends' warnings in Japan, he hadn't been prepared for the viciousness of their words, or the doors that had slammed in their faces. More than once, he had thought of moving away, but this was his home, and he wasn't going to run away, no matter what they said or did to him. It was only Hiroko he worried about. The women were so unkind to her, and the men were worse. They called her a gook and a Jap, even the children wouldn't talk to her, having been told not to by their parents. It was a far cry from her gentle loving family in Japan.
You okay? He smiled down at her, and she bent her head and nodded and then looked up at him shyly in the way that always made his heart melt.
I'm fine, Boyd-san. It is very handsome party. He laughed at her choice of words and she looked embarrassed and then giggled. No?
Yes. He leaned over and kissed her gently, not giving a damn who was watching. He loved her and she was his wife, and to hell with them if they couldn't understand it. His red hair and freckles stood out in sharp contrast to her ivory skin and jet-black hair which she wore in a neat bun at the nape of her neck. Everything about her was simple and neat and nicely put together. And her family had been just as shocked as his own when they had told them they were getting married. Her father had forbidden her to see Boyd again, but in the end, in the face of Boyd's kindness and gentle ways and obvious love for the girl, in spite of themselves and her mother's tears, they had relented. Hiroko had told them nothing in her letters of the brutal reception she had met in the Alexander Valley, she told them only about the little shack where they lived, the beautiful countryside, and her love for Boyd, making it all sound simple and easy. When she first arrived she had known nothing of the internment camps for the Japanese during the war, or the fury and scorn she would meet in California.
Did you eat? He felt guilty, realizing how long he had left her alone, and he suddenly suspected, correctly, that she hadn't eaten. She had been too shy to approach any of the long tables surrounded by their neighbors. I am not very hungry, Boyd-san. It is warm.
I'll get you something right now. She was slowly growing accustomed to Western food, although most of what she cooked for them was the Japanese style he had come to love in Japan and that her mother had taught her. I'll be right back. He kissed her again and hurried toward the tables, still laden with the food Olivia and her mother had prepared, and then as he started back toward her with a plate, he stopped, unable to believe his eyes. Still carrying Hiroko's long-delayed lunch, Boyd hurried toward the tall, dark-haired man shaking hands with Tom Parker. He stood out from the rest of the guests in a dark blue blazer and white slacks, with a bright red tie, and an aura about him that bespoke a world of ease far, far from the valley. He was only five years older than Boyd, and he looked different now, but they had been close friends in the Pacific. Spencer Hill had been his commanding officer and Tom's, he had even come to Boyd and Hiroko's wedding in Kyoto. And as Boyd approached him with a broad grin, Spencer
was shaking Tom's hand and congratulating him, looking suntanned and at ease, and as comfortable there as he had been in Japan in his uniform. He was a man who seemed at ease anywhere, his deep blue eyes seemed to take in the whole scene at a glance and a moment later he was laughing at Boyd Webster.
Well, I'll be damned ' you again! The freckle-faced kid! How's Hiroko? Boyd was touched that he remembered her name, and he smiled as he waved toward the trees where she was standing.
She's fine. Christ, it's been a long time, Captain' . Their eyes met in instant memory, of the pain they had shared, and the fears, but there had been more than that, there had been a closeness that would never come again. A closeness born of sorrow and excitement and terror, and victory too. But the victory had seemed a small moment compared to the rest, and it was the years before that they all remembered. Come and say hello to her. Spencer excused himself from the group and left Tom to his cohorts, in high spirits by then, and anxious to get back to the barn for more whiskey.
How've you been? I wondered if you'd be here. Or if the two of you would have moved to the city by now. He had often thought that it would be easier for them to live in a place like San Francisco or Honolulu, but Boyd had been determined to go home to the valley he had so often talked of.
Hiroko's eyes filled with surprise and she bowed when she saw him. As Spencer smiled down at her, she looked as tiny and delicate as she had a year before at her own wedding. But there was something more in her eyes now, a wisdom and sadness that hadn't been there before, and Spencer easily suspected that the past year had been neither kind nor easy.
You look beautiful, Hiroko. It's good to see you both again. He gently took her hand in his own, as she blushed, not daring to look up at him, as her husband watched them. The Captain had been so decent to both of them, he had done everything he could to discourage them from getting married, but in the end, he had stood by Boyd as he had all his men, in battle and out. He was the kind of man his men knew they could always turn to. He was strong and intelligent and kind, and relentless when they let him down, which they seldom did. There had been few men in his command who didn't want to live up to the example he set them. He worked hard, fought alongside them, and was seemingly tireless as they struggled to win the war, and now it was so strange ' it was over, and here they were, halfway around the world, safe again, yet none of it was forgotten. It's been a long time, hasn't it? Spencer's eyes met Boyd's, and he saw something older and wiser there, they had both seen pain together in the war. Yet, out of uniform the handsome captain seemed much younger than he had the last time they'd met, when Boyd left Japan for San Francisco.
I didn't know you'd be here today, Boyd said quietly, happier to see him than Spencer knew. He was the first person who had spoken kindly to Hiroko since she'd arrived in California in September. Tom didn't tell me.
He was probably too busy thinking about his bride. Spencer smiled a wide easy smile at them both. I wrote and told him I'd try to come, but I wasn't sure myself until a few days ago. I was supposed to be back in New York by now. But I never seem to want to leave California. He glanced around and Boyd handed Hiroko the plate and urged her to try it, but she was more interested in their friend than the food, and she set the plate down carefully on a tree stump just behind her.
Are you out here on vacation, sir? Boyd's eyes were filled with the affection and respect that had marked their relationship in Japan, and Spencer shook his head and laughed openly.
No, I'm not, and for chrissake, Webster, the name is Spencer, or have you forgotten?
Boyd Webster blushed bright red, as he had always done, even in the heat of battle. It had won him a lot of nicknames from his CO. and now the two men laughed again. I figured you might court-martial me if I said it. Hiroko smiled, watching them, it reminded her of a happier time far, far from here, when she was at home, and not an unwelcome stranger.
Believe it or not, I'm back in school again. I couldn't figure out what else to do after the war. I just finished a year of law school. He had managed to complete almost two years in one, and would be graduating from Stanford Law School the following summer.
In the East? Boyd figured that a man like Spencer Hill would go to a school like Yale or Harvard. He knew he had money, although he didn't know how much. Spencer never talked about that kind of thing, but he had always had an aura of education and background, and they'd all heard rumors that he was from an important family in the East, not that he ever said it. He'd gone to college, they all knew, and he was an officer, but the rest of it was a mystery, and crawling through a mine field none of it had seemed important.
But Spencer was shaking his head, looking at his young friend, thinking how far this place was from the world he knew. It seemed light years from the sophistication of San Francisco. It was a little pocket of a life he never even thought of, a world of ranches and farms, and people who worked the land. It was a hard life, and even at twenty-two, Boyd's face seemed to show it. No, I'm at Stanford. I stopped here on the way home, and I fell in love with it. I enrolled before I went back to New York. I figured that if I waited until after that, I'd never do it. I love it out here. It seemed remarkable that Stanford was only three hours away, it might as well have been in another country. I'll be back in the fall. I promised my folks I'd go back East this summer. I only had a few weeks with them after I got out of the service, and then I started law school. It seems a little crazy at my age, but a lot of guys seem to have gotten slowed down by the war. Some of them are even older than I am. And you, Boyd? What are you up to? Hiroko had sat down quietly and was listening to their conversation. She wondered how much Boyd would tell him about their hardships. He never complained, not to her, anyway, and these days she knew he hardly had anyone else to talk to. It had amazed them both when Tom had asked him to be best man at his wedding. No one else ever invited them, or even talked to them, and sometimes old Mr. Petersen even had to pump the gas himself, because someone would refuse to let Boyd help them.
Things are okay. It was hard finding work, with everyone coming home at the same time. But we're doing fine. Hiroko watched him, her eyes giving away nothing as Spencer nodded.
I'm glad. He had worried about them both, and had reproached himself more than once for not staying in touch. He had cared about Boyd a great deal when he was one of his men, and he had worried about his marriage to Hiroko. It was good to know that things had worked out for them. There were others, he knew, who hadn't fared as well, men who had become estranged from their families as a result of the war brides they brought home, who had turned to drink, and even suicide, abandoning the women they had brought home to an unforgiving country. But they both looked well, and they were still together, that was something. Do you ever come to San Francisco?
Boyd smiled and shook his head. Life was hard enough where they were, and they wouldn't have had the money for gas anyway, but he didn't tell Spencer that. He was young and proud, and he knew they were going to make it.
You ought to come and see me sometime. I've got one more year before I'm a lawyer. Hell of a thought, isn't it? They both laughed, but Boyd wasn't surprised. The Captain had had an aura of success about him even then, he was well liked by everyone, enlisted men and officers. Boyd had always suspected he would be an important man one day, and being a lawyer seemed like only the first step on the ladder. Spencer looked around him, as Boyd smiled at him, and then their eyes met again. What's Tom's bride like? She looks like a nice girl.
She's all right. She's a friend of my sister's. And with that, they both laughed. Spencer had heard a lot about Ginny Webster. She was always sending Boyd photographs of herself in bathing suits, and asking him to find her soldiers to write to. She was just a teenager then, with the same bright red hair as her brother, and the same freckles, but a rather amazing body. The Wyatts are good people. Tom's going to be working on the ranch with Becky's father. To Boyd, it sounded like a gift from God, but he was embarrassed suddenly, thinking that it was a lot less glamorous
than studying law at Stanford. But Spencer felt only respect for them as he looked around him in open admiration. The ranch looked comfortable and clean and prosperous and the guests talking beneath the trees looked like decent, solid people. Tad Wyatt's a fine man. Tom is pretty lucky.
So are you. Spencer said the words very softly, glancing at Hiroko and then at Boyd with warmth in his eyes and a touch of envy. There was no one he cared about, no one he loved or who loved him as Hiroko did her husband. He almost envied them that, except that he was in no hurry. There were plenty of women in his life, and he was having a good time. At twenty-seven he was in no hurry to settle down. There were other things he wanted to do first, like finish law school and go back to New York afterward. His father was a judge and had told him that the smartest thing he could do was become a lawyer. With a law degree, and the connections he would make at a school like Stanford, there was a good life in store for him. And with his looks and easy ways, a lot of doors were going to open to Spencer Hill. They always had, he led a charmed life, and wherever he went, people liked him. He had integrity and style, and he was smart as hell. It had saved his life more than once in the Pacific, and the lives of his men. Whatever he lacked in experience, he made up for with ingenuity and courage. Should I be mingling with the guests?
Boyd laughed. Sure. Come on, I'll introduce you to my sister.
Finally, Spencer Hill teased. Will I recognize her without a bathing suit on? But as they walked slowly toward the rest of the guests, he saw instantly who she was, not only from the bright red hair so like Boyd's, but from the body poured into the tight pink dress and matching jacket. The laughing girl, more than a little tipsy on wine, and still clinging to the wilting bouquet she'd caught from Becky, could only be Boyd's sister, Ginny. Boyd introduced them, and Ginny blushed a bright pink that almost matched her dress, as Spencer shook her hand and told her how brave her brother had been in the Pacific.
Star (1989) Page 3
