Saving Grace: A Novel (Healing Ruby Book 3)

by Jennifer H. Westall

  “It’s important for everyone to remember that we’re all in this together,” he said. “Each and every one of you will be called upon to perform duties you may not be familiar with or trained in. But we must do our best to support one another and to learn from those with experience. There’s no telling how long this hospital may be necessary, so we will approach it from a standpoint of providing what’s needed at the present time, with preparation for the near future to the best of our ability.”

  I leaned toward Ruby and whispered, “Are you angry with me?”

  She shot me a hard look, leaving no doubt things were not settled between us. “I’m trying to listen.”

  “I’m trying to apologize.”

  “Fine. Apology accepted. Now hush.”

  I turned my attention back to Captain Prescott as he made it clear that the first order of business would be to establish a passable road so that supplies, equipment, and food could be brought into camp immediately. A team was assigned to the bulldozer we’d brought with us from Cabcaben, along with a group of Filipino men brandishing long bolos.

  “Did you get my letter?” I tried again.

  She nodded.

  “And?” I couldn’t believe she was being so difficult.

  She sighed and turned a stony expression toward me. “I got it. Thank you.”

  “That’s all you have to say?” It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep my voice at a whisper.

  “Now is not the time for this.” Her eyes darted past me again in the direction of where I’d left Natalie. And it hit me that she’d probably seen us hugging. Combined with the kiss she’d most likely seen at Stotsenburg, it was no wonder she was angry. I reached for her elbow, but at my touch, she took a step away from me. Frustration surged through me. I had no choice but to direct my attention back to Captain Prescott.

  “The second order of business will be to secure the supplies and food necessary to sustain the staff as well as the flow of patients that will undoubtedly be streaming into the hospital.” Prescott pointed to a man standing to his right, whom I hadn’t noticed previously. “Sergeant McMillan here is the supply officer, and he’ll be leading a small team of volunteers back into Manila today to secure as many supplies as possible before the Japanese are able to confiscate everything.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked around the camp. “Any volunteers?”

  A few hands went up. I glanced at Ruby again, still refusing to acknowledge my existence. What was going on with her? I’d never known her to hold a grudge with such coldness toward me. Even when she hadn’t trusted me, she’d always been kind.

  Prescott was still searching the camp for volunteers, so I stuck my hand in the air. He nodded as he pointed at me. “All right then, Lieutenant Doyle.”

  This time, Ruby whirled round to face me. “What are you doing?”

  I dropped my hand, satisfied I at last had her attention. “So now you want to talk to me?”

  She frowned, and again she glanced over at Natalie. “Is that why you volunteered? To get my attention? That would be just about the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, Matthew Doyle. And that’s saying a lot.”

  She turned away from me again, pretending to listen to the next item Prescott was covering. But I could tell she was upset. Her whole body was rigid. I decided to wait until the meeting was over, and maybe then I could try again. Prescott concluded his remarks with the third item of importance for the day: setting up a mess area. My stomach couldn’t agree more. A delivery of supplies and food was expected from the Medical Depot at any time, and he asked if anyone had any cooking experience. A few volunteers raised their hands and were swiftly put in charge. Their faces gave away their surprise, prompting another reminder of every man’s duty to serve the best he could. Then he turned to the group of nurses, most of whom were gathered off to my right.

  “Ladies, I believe this would be an area where your skills would be most appreciated,” Prescott said with a smile.

  The girls didn’t betray the anger I was sure flashed through most, if not all, of them. A few of them lifted their chins in defiance at the suggestion they would best serve in the kitchen, but that was the extent. Even after a male voice nearby muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, “Ain’t having no dames fooling around with my mess hall.”

  Prescott ended his remarks with the announcement that mess would be served at sixteen-thirty, and to expect further instructions from our staff sergeants and other leaders later in the day. Then we were dismissed to begin our duties.

  Ruby turned to leave without a word, so I marched to catch up with her. “What is going on with you?” I demanded.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She continued moving quickly toward the area where the men put in charge of mess were gathering.

  “You know exactly what I mean. I’m trying to apologize and make things right with you. And all you can manage is to give me the cold shoulder. This isn’t like you.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me anymore.”

  “That’s apparent.”

  We reached the group, so she finally stopped and faced me. “Look. I appreciate the apology. And I understand why you were angry. But as you can see, there are much bigger things going on around here besides you and me.” She darted a glance at the other nurses approaching. “Can’t this wait?”

  “Sure,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could. “I’ll just catch up with you later.”

  I took a few steps away before she called my name. When I turned around, I almost thought I saw genuine concern in her face. “Please be careful,” she said.

  Then without another word she turned to a nurse who came up beside her and began talking. So that was it. All I’d get before heading out on a dangerous mission was be careful as an afterthought. How could she have changed so much? How could she have so little regard for me?

  I stomped away and found my group, trying to shut out thoughts of Ruby. I noticed Doug had joined the circle and tried to smile at him. “Didn’t see you volunteer,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t miss out on this fun, especially if you’re going.” He nodded in the direction I’d come from. “You talk to your girl?”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “Worried about ya going, huh?” He winked as if the whole thing were funny.

  Right then, Sergeant McMillan began going over the plans for getting into the city. I had to push aside my confusion over Ruby. Whatever was bothering her would have to be worked out later. I might not be experienced with combat, but even I knew the situation would be made even more dangerous if I was distracted.

  ***

  The road along the coast was jammed with trucks, soldiers, civilians, and carts loaded down with supplies, all heading in the opposite direction from us. It took forever to move even one kilometer. The plan was to arrive in Manila early enough to beat the midday bombing raid, but by the time we reached the edges of the city, I could see two large V formations of bombers approaching from the north and west.

  The truck pulled over in what was barely more than a shantytown, filled mostly with dilapidated shacks leaning into each other as if they too were seeking shelter from the bombs. McMillan came around behind the truck and ordered us all out.

  “Find a trench and cover your heads best you can!” he yelled.

  We scrambled in several directions as bombs hit the ground in the distance. I ran down a street, realizing the explosions were rapidly approaching me. As one hit a few streets over, my knees buckled, and I stumbled several feet before tripping over a large mound of clothing. I hit the dirt and rolled, coming to my feet again. Looking back at where I’d fallen, I could see it wasn’t a pile of clothes I’d tripped over, but a corpse. Well, half of one anyway. The lower extremities were missing, with entrails dragging in the dust. I nearly retched, but another concussion knocked me over. They were nearly on top of me.

  I pushed myself up and ran around the last house on the street. I had no idea where Doug was, or anyone else for that ma
tter. But I finally spotted a trench behind the house I’d just rounded. So I ran and dove into it, crashing into bodies already inside. There were screams, and hands grabbed me. A fist punched me in the gut. I sucked in a breath and doubled over.

  Voices above me argued in Tagalog. Then large hands grabbed my shoulders and righted me. I looked into four sets of dark, frightened eyes staring back at me as if I were the one attacking them. I put my hands up and yelled over the thunderous crash of another bomb.

  “I’m sorry! I don’t mean any harm!”

  Across from me, two young Filipino girls, who couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen, bent over with their hands clasped tightly against their ears. I took a step backward until my back rested against the dirt wall behind me, and I too did my best to shut out the chaos of the bombs.

  When it was finally over, and the planes were completely gone, I climbed out of the trench and reached a hand down to help the others out. The small older man, who I assumed had been the one to punch me, gripped my hand and pulled himself out. Then we both reached down to pull out the girls and their mother.

  We stood there for an awkward moment staring at each other, before the father stuck out his hand. “Sorry,” he said. “Thought you might be Japanese.”

  I shook his hand and smiled, rubbing my stomach where it still felt a bit nauseous. I thought it was a stretch to confuse me with a Japanese soldier, but I decided not to push it. Fear did things to the mind. “It’s all right. I’m sure I startled you.”

  His eyes darted to the girls, who were dusting off their tattered dresses, though I didn’t think it was doing much good. His shoulders drooped, and he took a step toward me and lowered his voice. “You…have money? If you like…”

  His voice trailed off, and he glanced again at the girls. An uneasy feeling swelled in my gut, and it had nothing to do with the aftereffects of the punch. I shook my head. “No, no.”

  “You pick whichever you like. A few pesos.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at the girls again. I felt into my pockets and found a few coins. I placed them in the man’s hand, closing mine around his. Then I looked him in the eyes. “You have beautiful girls. Keep them safe.”

  His eyes welled up, and the lines around his mouth deepened with his frown. “I have nothing else to give.”

  “Then give me your prayers, and that will be plenty.”

  I nodded to the girls’ mother and headed back the way I’d come. The truck was just where we’d left it, and the men in our group were already climbing inside. Doug was visibly relieved to see me. “Thank God! I lost track of you there. Where’d you go?”

  “I jumped onto a nice Filipino family in a trench. Scared the daylights out of all of us.”

  Slowly the truck made its way through the empty streets of Manila. Each time I saw a mangled corpse lying by the roadside, I wondered why no one had come along to claim it and bury the body. As we passed the charred remains of a church, I noticed a sign hanging on what was left of the gate.

  BE CALM. STAY HOME. YOU ARE AS SAFE THERE AS ANYWHERE.

  That sign stuck with me. Rather than making people feel safe, it was a cold reminder that there was no place of safety. No hiding from the bombs that fell daily. All anyone could do was pray for mercy. So as we made the final turn into Sternberg Hospital, that was exactly what I did. I prayed for mercy.

  When the truck came to a stop, we hopped out and received a brief reminder of the supplies and equipment we were to search for inside. McMillan kept his remarks short and to the point, reminding us several times to grab every ounce of quinine and iodine we could find. Then we divided into four groups of three men, and went about scouring the hospital.

  The entire building was empty; deserted halls leading to vacated rooms. I searched for supply closets, gathering what I could into boxes and transporting it out to the waiting truck. On my third trip out, there was another truck waiting. By the sixth trip, there were two more trucks, four in total. One of the groups of three was sent over to a supply depot to load up food.

  We worked quickly, barely speaking. The eerie silence of the hospital only intensified my suspicions that the Japanese were close at hand. All I wanted to do was find what we needed and get out of there as quickly as possible. As I raided another supply closet, I heard an incredulous voice behind me.

  “What in God’s name are you doing?”

  I whipped around to find a tall doctor blocking the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. He wore no insignia, so he couldn’t be military. He stared down on me through his glasses like I was stealing food from starving children.

  “I’m here with a group of doctors and staff from one of the jungle hospitals being set up. We’re in need of supplies.” It struck me that this man might very well be pilfering supplies himself. “Just who might you be?”

  He stepped back from the doorway and lowered his arms. “I’m a local doctor. Name’s Joseph Grant. I’ve been helping out around here the past few days.”

  “Are you an American?”

  He nodded. “Missionary.”

  “You look…I thought you might be Filipino.” I’d never seen a Filipino who was as tall as myself.

  “That too. It’s a long story.”

  I definitely didn’t have time for long stories. “Look, I have to get these supplies loaded. Mind giving me a hand?”

  He held out his arms and I threw a couple of boxes on them before leading him out to the waiting trucks. Once the supplies were loaded, I stuck out my hand. “Thanks for the help. You want to come with us? We’re going to need more doctors, I’m sure.”

  Just at that moment, an explosion a few miles away caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. I ducked and covered my head till I noticed Joseph chuckling. I stood again and asked what was so funny.

  “It’s just the army blowing up ammunition and secret documents and such. I saw them getting ready to do it a while ago.”

  “Why are they blowing up perfectly good ammunition?”

  “To keep it out of the hands of the Japs, I suppose. I hear they’ll be here at any moment. You boys better get moving.”

  The other trucks were about full, and the fourth truck had arrived from the depot stuffed full of canned food. “Come on,” I said. “Come with us. You don’t want to be here when the Japs overrun this place. They’ll never believe someone with your height is Filipino.”

  He glanced around and shrugged. “I might just take you up on that. Nothing more I can do here. Can’t be any more dangerous in the jungle.”

  “Then it’s settled. You’re coming with us.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ruby

  December 28, 1941

  By mid-afternoon we’d managed to cobble together a workable mess area, although we had no stove as of yet to cook anything. A group of men made a run to the Bataan depot and brought back some tables and chairs. It wouldn’t be enough, but at least it was a start. The Filipinos made quick work of the underbrush, creating a small clearing with adequate cover beneath the trees for us to set up.

  Trucks were coming in and out of the area all day, and every time a new one showed up, I ran to see if it was Matthew returning from Manila. Each time it wasn’t, my heart grew a little heavier with worry. I tried not to think about the danger he was facing, instead focusing on the tasks at hand. But it proved difficult. I found myself mumbling prayers throughout the day.

  I felt just awful about treating him so coolly that morning, but Natalie had been watching us the entire time, and I didn’t dare risk upsetting her again. It was best for now to keep my distance.

  As I was setting up the last few chairs, a truck arrived with supplies and equipment from Corregidor, along with a stove. Sam Lewis, a first lieutenant who’d done some cooking during his training back in the States, was put in charge of mess, and he eyed the stove with skepticism. “Now, I don’t have a great deal of experience, but I do know one gasoline range isn’t going to cook enough food to feed the personnel we got
here, much less the patients once they start arriving.”

  I was standing just behind Sam, watching as a wiry soldier hooked up the stove. I’d had about enough of his negative attitude and his comments about how inadequate everything was. “Come on, Sam. Have faith. If God could feed five thousand men with only a few fish and some loaves of bread, surely He can feed a few hundred.”

  Sam turned around, his black brow pushed down into a frustrated glare. “That’s all well and good for Sunday school, but this is war. You ever been starved half to death?”

  “Yes,” I said. “As a matter of fact I have. And I’ve seen first-hand how God provides in times of trouble.”

  His eyes widened a bit. “Well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. Gotta have mess ready in a couple of hours. I don’t suppose you know how to make biscuits for several hundred people?”

  I wasn’t about to lose face, so I tipped up my chin. “I can certainly handle it.”

  “Great! Then you and the ladies get busy with biscuits and tea while I throw together a slumgullion stew. We’ll be a regular five star establishment before we know it!” He went over to a pile of equipment and began tossing around large pots. Sam’s sarcastic tone still irked, but I did my best to ignore it.

  I turned to Janine and a couple of other girls standing beside me. “Mind helping me with the biscuits?”

  Janine shrugged. “Might as well. We’ll get fussed at no matter what we do anyway. Especially by Mr. Grumpy Pants over there.”

  She nodded her head toward Sam, who was now loudly complaining about the lack of food available to him. I turned back to Janine and asked, “What in the world is slumgullion stew?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It’s just a stew thrown together with whatever’s available. I imagine it’ll have a bit of canned meat, rice, some canned vegetables if we’re lucky.”

  Natalie scrunched up her nose as well. “Sounds perfectly awful.”