by Buzz Harcus
Harry threw up his hands in total despair. "My god, woman, I appreciate your interest, but it's dangerous. Listen to me: DANGEROUS! I happen to care too much about you to put your life in danger."
"You really care dat much?" she squealed, delighted at his remark.
"You nut. You know I do!" He grabbed her, pulling her off balance into his arms, smothering her with kisses. "Now get out of here before someone comes in and puts two and two together, like your uncle!" He whirled her around heading her for the door, giving her a healthy whack across her backside.
Osa jumped, turning, rubbing her rump, giving him a dirty look. "I get even vis you. You vill see." She stopped at the door and gave a coy look over her shoulder. "I love you. I am going vis you!" With that, she flitted out the door.
"Damned female!" Harry called aloud, grinning. "Nymphomaniac!" He broke into uproarious laughter, doubling over, tears streaming from his eyes. Nymphomaniac. She had been so serious, so damned serious. At least now, he thought, she does enjoy sex, and that's a healthy sign.
He crawled into his bunk for a catnap before duty called. Closing his eyes, he rolled onto his side sliding his hand under his pillow. At contact with the silkiness of her panties, he drew them out, then grinned at seeing the bold red lip imprint. He inhaled the heady fragrance of her perfume then switched off the light. Damn but the thought of her made him tingle.
Chapter 55
TSINGTAO; END OF THE LINE
“I just received vord from der harbormaster of Tsingtao," Captain Andress was saying to Sigmund when Harry stepped into the wheelhouse for the second watch. "A pilot boat vill meet us outside der harbor to put vun of dere pilots on board. He vill bring us into port. Ve vill be met by der harbormaster, a Mr. Ma, and der military commander, Colonel Pui. Dey vill be our official greeters so ve must be on our best behavior. I vant to make a good impression on dem for ve vill be coming back on future trips."
"Aye, sir," Sigmund replied. "I vill inform you der moment ve make contact vis der pilot boat. Der crew vill be alerted to be cleanshaven, clean clothes und most courteous at all times."
"Good. Dat is der ticket."
Harry caught bits of the conversation and already his mind was mulling over the name, Mr. Ma. The name triggered a thought from his past. Mr. Ma. He wracked his brain trying to recall the name and the face and locale that went with it. Yeah! There had been a Mr. Ma who worked with his battalion back in 1947 at the Old Japanese Compound. Could it be the same Mr. Ma?
He could picture the man. Stocky build, short, thick black hair, slightly balding in the back, ramrod straight, a former soldier who had fought the Japanese. Always wore black. Harry recalled that Mr. Ma had been a responsible person to work with, courteous but disciplined. There was no shirking by the coolies when he was around. He had said one day that "ma" had meant horse in Chinese, that he worked like a horse. They had laughed at his comment but he was a hard worker.
The bothersome thing he recalled about Mr. Ma was his quiet reserve, a subtle arrogance. Harry had a feeling Mr. Ma felt he was superior to the Americans. In whatever they did, he seemed always to be challenging them, playing mental games, always trying to get the upper hand. Another bothersome thing was a chance comment made by one of the coolies to the "batu," who passed it along to him. They disliked the man saying he walked with the gait of a Japanese soldier. Harry had caught the inference; Mr. Ma was a survivor.
And what has happened to all the many fine Chinese people he had worked with, he wondered, recalling the office girl, Margaret, the Batu, the red-headed coolie he had befriended, the two orphan waifs the one battalion had "adopted" as mascots, even making them small Marine Corps uniforms. Had any survived the great Communist purge when the Reds overran China?
"Ve are getting close to your old home, Harry," Captain Andress said stepping behind him. "Are you getting excited?"
"What? Oh, yessir," Harry replied snapping out of his daydreaming. "Yes. I look forward to seeing the old place again."
Captain Andress slapped him lightly on his shoulder. "Later today, yah..." He turned to Mr. Helmstrund. "Veil, carry on. I vill be in my cabin. Call me as soon as ve make contact vis der pilot boat."
The night droned on. Sigmund came by to check the dials several times, halting as if he wanted to talk, then moved on to the front of the wheelhouse. Harry glanced at the radar; it was working fine. No more problems. He doubted they'd have any more trouble with it since the Captain chewed out the engineer.
While he mechanically fulfilled the duties of helmsman, Harry's thoughts strayed to Tsingtao. He could feel the excitement rising within himself: the journey's end. He had to control his feelings. Yet, the thought of being in Tsingtao yet today filled him with an exhilarating feeling. Mentally, he reviewed the old barracks building, the front entrance, the two end doors, and the steps leading to the fourth floor. Was the storeroom still intact after thirty years? Had the building been remodeled, the rooms remodeled? Was all this effort a wild goose chase? And what surprise had Stan prepared for him?
He shook his head. Think pleasant thoughts. He smiled as his mind switched to the incident of the panties, trying to catch a few winks but too excited to sleep, tossing and turning, wadding his pillow about, feeling the silkiness of Osa's panties. He almost laughed aloud as he recalled the way she whipped them off, planted the red lip print on them and stuffed them under his pillow. There was definitely a jealous streak in the woman. Dammit, there he was thinking of her, wanting her. No. He had to think of Tsingtao. Concentrate, he told himself. You've got a job to do that demands every damned minute of your time!
"Are you seeing Osa?"
"Huh?" The question startled Harry. He looked to his right to find Sigmund had moved in close to him, a serious look on his face. The question was curt, demanding an answer.
"Why?" Harry responded feeling his hackles rise.
"I saw her come from your cabin last night. You know she shouldn't be dere. Dat is off limits to her, you know."
"Oh, yeah, last night." He was suddenly more irritated with himself than at Sigmund. What he had feared most was that someone would see her leave his cabin. Damn!
"Vell?"
"She stopped by for a moment, dropped off my banjo albums. She had accidentally broken my Flint Banjo Club album. I guess I got a little nasty with her and -"
"Yes. And vat?"
"Well," Harry whispered, crooked his finger, drawing Sigmund closer, and continued, "keep this between you and me, okay?"
"Vat?" Sigmund asked with a questioning look.
Harry forced himself to keep a straight face as he started fabricating a fantastic cock and bull story for Sigmund's benefit. With a tone of intimacy in his voice, he continued, "She asked me if she could pay for the album but I told her no, that I'd take it out in trade."
Sigmund's eyebrows shot up. "You didn't!" he gasped. He slapped his hands together in shock. "Harry. You shouldn't haf said dat. She is a lady. Dat vas not a nice ting to say to her, to even suggest —"
"Yeah. You're right about that," Harry replied. "I got the distinct impression she didn't care for my suggestion. I thought she was going to slap me but you know what, she kept her cool. Instead, ya know what she says?"
"No. Not after a callous remark like dat. She should haf slapped you." He was all ears waiting for Harry's next comment.
"She asks me if I'm going ashore in Tsingtao? I says maybe, why? You know what she says then?" He watched the look on Sigmund's face, his eyes never wavering, attention riveted on Harry. "She says she wants to go into Tsingtao with me, says she'll buy me a drink to pay for the album. Now ain't that gutsy?"
"No. I tink dat is nice. It is fair of her to offer to pay for der album, even to buy you a drink. I haf heard from Captain Andress dat she said you showed her a nice time in Shanghai. You should be honored dat she vould vant to go ashore vis you in Tsingtao."
So she told her uncle she had a good time, Harry mused. Just how much did she tell him? And now Sigmund is d
rawing conclusions about the two of them. Better to shatter any such thoughts right now.
"Wait a minute," he snapped back at Sigmund. "Sure I enjoyed her company, but I had to work hard to ditch her for an hour so I could get a little action, if you know what I mean. After all, a guy's got to get rid of his sex drive somewhere!"
"Dammit, Harry! You haf a vun-track mind: Sex, sex, sex! You should not tink of dose tings ven you are out vis Osa. She is a lady. Treat her vis respect. You are older now. Slow down. Dere are odder tings beyond sex. Try to raise your morals and toughts to a higher level."
Harry backed off seeing that Sigmund was really getting hot under the collar. "Yeah, well," he said, "maybe your right." He was getting the distinct idea they were all carrying Osa around on a silver platter, all protecting her because of the rotten incident involving her husband with the young hooker. Yet, he had to add one more touch of agitation. "I, uh, I gotta tell you this, then, but don't get upset. It just happened! Honest! When she says she wants to go ashore with me, I, uh, I asked her what was in it for me besides a drink."
"You didn't!" exclaimed Sigmund with a horrified look on his face, a look that quickly changed to anger, redness creeping up from his collar to his hairline.
"Afraid I did," Harry nodded glancing away momentarily, pretending to check several dials, but more-so to keep a straight face knowing Sigmund was seething inside.
"And?" came his voice through gritted teeth.
"She got the message. She hauled off and really slapped my face screaming that she wasn't that kind of woman. Boy was she pissed off. She stormed out of my cabin. That's probably when you saw her, and, well, anyways, that's what happened. I'm sorry." He wore the most sorrowful hound dog look he could muster for Sigmund's benefit. "Please don't breathe a word about what I told you. I realize I made a mistake so I'll square it away with the lady."
There, Harry thought, now you can chew on that line of bullshit, my friend. At least, hopefully, it got Osa off the hook for being in his cabin.
Sigmund loosed an exasperated sigh and walked to the front of the wheelhouse. Harry could sense the agitation Sigmund was feeling by the way he rubbed his hands together, then tightened them into fists. Finally, having calmed down considerably, he again approached Harry.
"If you don't mind my saying so, Harry," he said crisply. "I tink she vas right in slapping you. From vat you haf told me about your past sexual conquests, I tink you haf found out you finally came up against der vrong voman dis time. Osa is a fine voman, a high moraled voman. You deserved to be slapped. Dat vas terrible vat you suggested. I tell you for der last time, you vill treat her like a lady!"
Harry nodded, keeping his eyes forward, hoping his face wouldn't crack into a grin. He stared into the darkness of night feeling the contempt the Second Officer held for him at that moment, not believing this man could so demean such a fine woman.
"Osa is like a delicate piece of porcelain, very fragile," Sigmund continued. "She must be handled gently."
The thought of Osa in his shower stall with her legs wrapped tightly around him, thrusting madly against his manhood, came to Harry: delicate, yes, indeed.
"Dat is der only vay you vill ever become her friend." Sigmund said, pausing as a new train of thought came to him. "You know, Harry, I do tink she likes you. She speaks very highly of you. You must make it a point to be nicer to her." An idea suddenly struck him, his face lighting up into a smile. "Ahh, I haf it. Ven you get off vatch you must go immediately to her und apologize. Dat vill let her know you are a gentleman. Yah. You vill apologize."
Harry gulped to control a grin. "Yeah. You're right, Sigmund. That's exactly what I'll do. First thing when I get off watch!"
"Of course. I know I am right. You vill apologize und den you vill ask her to go ashore this evening, der autorities villing, und take her to dinner somevhere, show her a good time. Lofty toughts. No mention of sex. Let her know you are a vell-intentioned person, not a sex maniac."
"Well, I don't know about taking her ashore," Harry replied with a grimace. "I've got other plans for any possible shore leave —"
"No!" Sigmund bristled. "You must not try to chase down every whore in town to satisfy your lusting! I tell you dis, take Osa ashore instead. Show her a good time. It is to your advantage." He cleared his throat taking on a deeper tone of authority. "I don't vant to pressure you, but I am der deck officer who happens to give out der passes for shore leave. I could, shall ve say, run out of passes ven you ask for vun. Do you understand?"
Harry's jawline tightened. The bastard. He could do it, too. No shore leave; no money. Taking Osa ashore was the last thing on his mind. Getting ashore and getting the money would consume every moment of his time. Having her tag along would only slow him down. Then, too, there was the danger of the unknown - Stan Drezewski. There was no doubt in his mind that Stan would play his hand in Tsingtao. He had to be on guard every moment ashore and having Osa tag along would only complicate matters.
"Vell?"
"You made your point loud and clear."
"Good."
"So, I'll apologize and ask Osa to go ashore with me. It'll be my pleasure," he lied.
"Dat is der ticket, Harry. You vill feel better about it. Show her a good time like in Shanghai. She vill appreciate it. You vill see. I am right, and no mention of sex! Understood?"
"Understood," Harry retorted with a condescending nod of his head. Shanghai. He almost broke into a grin. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. At least she'd be happy he rationalized after a moment. Sigmund would be happy, the captain would be happy, and good old Harry, if he could ditch her for an hour and recover the loot, would be happy, and richer, he hoped.
And so the night continued: Harry staring into the darkness, brooding, trying to figure out another way to ditch Osa; Sigmund feeling better that he now knew the full story about her momentary visit to Harry's cabin. Osa was a nice lady. It's just too bad that Harry couldn't be as high-moraled; they would make a nice couple.
Chapter 56
A TASTE OF LOCAL HOSPITALITY
A myriad of long, thin, finger-like streaks of pink and purple began breaking across the horizon, stealing through the darkness. The distant clouds slowly turned a fiery red as the sun peeked over the horizon and day broke quietly astern of Nurad in the East China Sea. In the distance the rugged coastline of the Shantung peninsula could faintly be discerned.
Harry felt a tightness in his stomach. Tsingtao lay dead ahead. He was anxious to get into town, get the money and get out. Everything was ready for his mission ashore. Once back aboard ship it would be clear sailing back to Saginaw.
"Bring her two points to port," Sigmund called from the chart table. "Ve should be entering der harbor at about seven hundred hours. Der pilot boat vill meet us just outside der harbor entrance."
"Two points to port," Harry repeated. He wondered if he would be able to recognize the harbor, remembering how his ship, General J. C. Breckenridge, had moved slowly into port that rainy morning so long ago, how it had moved past the ornate pavilion at the end of the long pier, then circled around to the dock area adjacent to the Old Japanese Compound. Would the sounds and smells be the same? He smiled. Did they still use the old wooden "honey" carts? He'd never forget the time one of their military trucks hit a cart. Liquid shit flew in all directions drenching the dozen or so Marines standing in the bed of the truck with a smelly, clinging coat of brown. It had taken several washings to get the stench out of their clothing. And fish! The way the Orientals carried them tied to the back of their bicycles through the dirty, dusty streets drawing flies, hundreds and hundreds of dirty black flies. How could they eat the damnable
fish after it had been wheeled through the streets exposed to flies, dirt, dust and the hot beating sun?
"Don't forget, Harry," Sigmund cautioned. "You vill see Osa und seek her forgiveness, und ask her to go ashore tonight."
"Right. I haven't forgotten. Right after I get off duty."
"Good."
"I don't know. Vy do you ask?"
"Curious. I used to know a Mr. Ma many years ago when I was stationed in Tsingtao, back in 1947 through 1949, just before we pulled out of China. He was a likeable guy. We always got along well together. I thought it might be him meeting us on the pilot boat."
"Vell, it could be him. Stranger tings haf happened. Dis Mr. Ma might even be a relative of der man you know, perhaps a son, children do grow up in tirty years, you know." There was a wry smile on his face. "Some of us even get a little older, yah?"
Harry caught the inference. Thirty years. He was older; he'd gone through several career changes in the past thirty years; most likely this Mr. Ma was an entirely different person than the one he recalled.
A high-pitched whining sound that turned into a screaming, shattering roar suddenly enveloped them, a sound that jarred their minds, hands quickly slamming to cover their ears. Three Chinese MIG jet fighter planes flashed past the port side of the ship barely above the waves, red stars emblazoned on their fuselages. The planes roared skyward, did a barrel roll, and then headed inland toward the craggy hills of the Shantung peninsula. Probably headed for the old MAG airfield where the First Marine Air Wing was located, Harry thought as the MIG's disappeared from view.
"Vot der hell vas dat!" exclaimed Captain Andress bounding into the wheelhouse, pulling up his suspenders, gasping for breath.
"Tree Chinese jet planes, sir," Sigmund replied.
"I tought ve ver being attacked!"
"MIG fighters," Harry said. "A good morning wake up call."
"Vell dey succeeded," he fumed. "Every person on board must be up. Scared der shit out of me." And then he laughed. "Reminds me of ven ve pulled out of Shanghai back ven der Japs ver taking der city. Der damned Jap Zeroes vould zoom down shooting at us mit dose damned machine guns. Time and again. Killed a lot of people -" He stopped, the thoughts of that long ago time momentarily flitting through his mind.
