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Tracie Peterson (17 page)

BOOK: Tracie Peterson
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Thinking of Marshall came as a worse grief than anything else. Erik had worshiped the ground his older brother had walked on. He had been the reason Erik had learned to fly and subsequently the reason he’d joined the marines. Marshall was nearly ten years older and
had lavished most of his pay back on his family. Erik had always wanted to be a pilot—ever since seeing his first plane, an old beat-up Curtis Jenny biplane. Marshall thought it a grand scheme even though their parents were more cautious. They had finally conceded defeat when Marshall agreed to pay for the lessons, and they had seemed proud when Erik had flown his first solo at seventeen.

Marshall’s love of the marines had sent Erik down to enlist almost the minute after he’d graduated from high school. Again his parents were cautious and worried over his choice, but Marshall had sent a letter home praising the choice. Erik had lived on that praise all the way through boot camp and beyond.

Devastated to know that Marshall could no longer praise or frown upon any of his choices, Erik felt a weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. The war had taken his brother, and now it was trying to take him too.

Well, I’m not giving in that easily. I’m a marine like my brother before me
, he thought with a bit of restored determination.

He marched onward, thinking of his brother, his parents, and anything else that could keep him focused on beating the odds. Mary Ann came to rest in the center of his thoughts. She hadn’t wanted to say good-bye and she hadn’t wanted him going off to war without marrying her first. He’d given her his word that they’d marry whenever he could get leave home, but he wanted her to be sure in his absence that he was the right man for her.

He already knew that she was the gal for him. Tall and leggy, she was as pretty as she was smart. Mary Ann Roland was the pick of the bunch. Her blond curls had attracted him even when they were been children. Her twinkling blue eyes and winning smile had pulled him out of many a gloomy mood.

Mary Ann had taught him to dance, to work algebra, and to laugh at himself. Funny, he couldn’t seem to figure out how to do that just now. Mary Ann would say that life was a game and that he’d just landed into a new adventure. Mary Ann would find a way to laugh at this.

He smiled. He liked that about her. She knew how to see the positive in most everything. She could be rather naïve about life, but she was nevertheless looking at it from an optimistic view. She balanced his pessimism quite nicely.

“Ah, Mary, wish you were here now,” he said in a whisper. Then
he shook his head. “No, I wish I were there. I wish this war were over and done with and victory won. I wish I could be there to decorate the Christmas tree, and I wish I could walk in the snow with you by my side.” He shuddered from the chill that washed over his body. The malaria made itself more evident with each passing hour.

Looking overhead, Erik realized the rain had stopped. But instead of leaving the air refreshed and clean, it felt as though someone had smothered him in wet wool blankets. His flight suit stuck to him uncomfortably and his skin fairly crawled.

Gradually the light began to fade. He glanced at his watch. Surprisingly it appeared to still work, but the crystal was fogged over, making it difficult to make out the time. As best he could tell, it was nearly six o’clock, and Erik wondered how long it would be before he’d be completely without light. He pressed on and found himself in a small clearing. Staring overhead, he was amazed to see how dark it had gotten. Evening was approaching and in the already darkened jungle, Erik knew he’d have no hope of finding anything even remotely resembling a path.

I guess I’d better get settled somewhere
. He spied a mossy patch of ground near the base of a tree that must have been fifteen feet in diameter. It looked like a good place to hold up. Well, at least as good as anything he’d seen so far. He eased onto the ground and put his back up against the tree.

This seemed to be the best choice, and he pulled the brim of his cap down low over his eyes and prayed that sleep would come quickly. He could hardly stand his own company when he ventured into self-pity. He knew his family cared about him. Something probably just came up that kept them from writing. But even as he thought of this, he knew he’d rather they not care than that something be wrong at home. He couldn’t bear the idea of something happening to his mom or dad or any of his siblings. There had been rumors of the West Coast being bombed, even invaded, by the Japanese. Even though these stories had been deemed “scuttlebutt” by his superiors, Erik worried that this was the real reason he’d not received any mail.

Just as he began to doze off, Erik had visions of Mary Ann. He could see her dancing and laughing—only she wasn’t dancing with him. Ray Blasingham’s name had appeared more than once in her earlier letters. She talked in her sweet way of how sorry she felt for this
man. How he’d watched his buddies go off to war, only to be left behind because of a bad leg. It couldn’t be too bad, however, as she had also told him of going to dances with Ray. She and Ellen seemed to believe the man worthy of their concern, and while Erik tried not to be jealous, he couldn’t help himself. The letters showed her life without him, and that was nearly unbearable.

Then the letters had stopped coming altogether, and Erik found that even worse. He couldn’t help but wonder if Ray had replaced him in Mary Ann’s life. Maybe giving her time to decide if Erik was the right man for her had been a mistake. Maybe he should have married her before heading to his duties elsewhere.

The sensation of someone touching his leg caused Erik to go stiff. He thought of the crabs and started to flick them away, but it didn’t feel the same. Surely his imagination was just playing tricks on him. But the feeling came again and this time it was unmistakable. Something was crawling across his leg. Pushing back his cap and squinting in the fading light, Erik saw the culprit was a yellow-and-black banded snake that slithered its way across his right ankle and left boot. For a moment, he felt a rising panic, then as the snake moved off into the brush, Erik realized there was little he could do about the situation. He was the intruder in their world. He had no shelter, no means to take himself to a haven of protection. He was stuck right where he was until something better came along.

Somehow this resolve helped him to relax. The worst that could happen would be that something or someone would decide to dine on him. Frankly, in his weary state of mind, with the malaria taking a stronger hold on his system, Erik decided it wasn’t worth expending his energy on such thoughts. If he perished in his sleep, so be it. At least he wouldn’t have to eat bugs.

“Are you girls sure you want to go home?” Ray questioned as Mary Ann and Ellen slipped out of the front seat of the ’39 Chevy.

“Ray, it’s nearly midnight,” Ellen said like an admonishing mother. “We have to be at work bright and early tomorrow. ‘Don’t you know there’s a war on?’” She laughed at the cliché phrase.

Mary Ann yawned and nodded. “We’re already back a lot later than Mrs. Neal will like. We’ll have to sneak in as it is.”

Ray leaned back against the seat and shrugged. “Well, if that’s the way you want it, guess I can’t argue with the two of you.”

Mary Ann smiled. “Thanks for the evening, Ray. We had a lot of fun.”

Ellen nodded. “Yes, thanks. We’ll see you tomorrow.” She took hold of Mary Ann’s arm and added, “If we can wake up on time.” She closed the car door and pushed Mary Ann forward. “I swear, he’d follow us into the house if we invited him.”

“He’s just trying to keep our spirits up,” Mary Ann said defensively. “I told him how we hadn’t heard anything from Erik in a while. He was so sweet. I started to cry and he offered me his handkerchief. He even put his arm around me and told me it would be all right. He’s just a swell kind of guy who cares about the people he works with.”

“He’s dangerous,” Ellen said, slipping her key in the front door lock.

They crept through the house silently without turning on a single light. They’d only come home this late on two other occasions, and both times they’d made the mistake of turning on a lamp in order to see their way upstairs. Both times they’d awakened their landlady, who was none too happy about the hours they were keeping. There was even an underlying threat that perhaps Mrs. Neal would have to ask the girls to leave if they couldn’t be in at a decent hour.

Once they were safely inside their room, Mary Ann switched on the light and yawned. “Honestly, Ellen, you need to stop seeing the worst in people. Here it is nearly Christmas. Where’s your spirit of love?”

“I have a great deal of love for my family and close friends,” Ellen replied defensively. “I just think there’s a chance that Ray is more than he appears, and that makes him dangerous.”

“I don’t see that Ray is any more dangerous than your Mr. Chandler. I seem to recall that he put an arm around you last week when you broke down and cried.”

“He’s different. He’s a Christian and old enough to be my father.”

“Oh, and that makes it all right? A lot of people can say they are one thing or another. Talk about naïve.” Mary Ann seldom raised her voice to Ellen and now, realizing she had done so at such a late hour, she immediately apologized. “Sorry. I just don’t see that there’s that much of a difference.”

“Mr. Chandler clearly lives by Christian standards. I trust him to keep proper boundaries. When you cried in Ray’s arms, you told me yourself that you felt almost unfaithful for letting him comfort you. Isn’t that true?”

Mary Ann thought back to that moment and couldn’t deny that Ray had made her feel awkward. It wasn’t the fact that he’d given her a handkerchief or even that he held her while she cried, it was more the
way
he held her. He’d pulled her very close and stroked her arm and massaged her neck and shoulders while she’d tried to regain her composure. At one point he was whispering in her ear, and the entire situation became very uncomfortable.

“Well,” Mary Ann finally admitted, “it’s just that I’ve been with Erik so long. Being around any other man, especially having one touch me like that, is just . . . well . . . he was just being nice.”

Ellen shook her head. “Listen to yourself. You’re making excuses for him. He’s too free with his hands, if you ask me. While we were dancing tonight, he kept touching my hair.”

Mary Ann looked away. Ray had touched her hair as well. He’d also rubbed the small of her back and tried whispering again in her ear. “Well, if you’re worried about it, don’t go next time.” She couldn’t believe she’d just snapped at Ellen that way, but she wasn’t about to apologize. Exhaustion washed over her in waves, and she
didn’t have the time or energy for a big confrontation. She hated feeling stupid and yet that’s what this conversation was making her feel. Stupid.

“If I don’t go along, you can’t very well go alone,” Ellen reminded her.

“Why not? I’m not doing anything wrong. Ray’s my supervisor, nothing more. He’s a nice guy who’s trying hard to keep everyone’s spirits up. I think he’s doing a swell job. I mean, the poor man was rejected by the draft board for having a bad leg. He’s heartbroken because he can’t serve his country. Here it is Christmas, and all his buddies are overseas. He’s all alone and you have no compassion for him.” Mary Ann approached Ellen in an almost pleading tone. She wanted very much to salve her conscience and just once feel that she had handled a matter with wisdom. “You heard him talk tonight.”

“I heard him,” Ellen said, her voice sounding a bit skeptical. She came to Mary Ann and gently touched her arm. “I’m not accusing you of anything. Please understand that. I just worry about you. Erik would never forgive me if I let something happen to you—especially if I had the power to stop it.”

“Is that why you go with us? Just to keep something from happening?” Mary Ann felt a sudden surge of indignity. “You’re just like everyone else. You think me incapable of making good judgments. I’m not a child. I’m not stupid. Just what do you think I might do?”

“It isn’t you I’m worried about,” Ellen replied.

Mary Ann jerked away. With hands on hips she accused her friend. “Are you just spying on me for Erik? Is that it?”

“Do I need to?” Ellen questioned.

“What kind of friend are you?”

“I hope I’m the good kind that helps a friend see things for what they are. Especially when that friend might be headed into dangerous waters.”

“If that’s the case, you must think I’m drowning.”

Ellen shook her head. “I trust you, Mary Ann, but I don’t trust Ray. There have been rumors about him.”

“Rumors? Didn’t your mama raise you to ignore rumors?” Mary Ann hated arguing with Ellen, especially when her friend’s words hinged on so much truth. Ray could be a bit much, Mary Ann had to admit, but she wasn’t about to give Ellen further means to accuse her.

Ellen appeared to be thinking over her words. “I care about what happens to you. I know you’re worried about Erik and I know you’re lonely. I also know that you’ve been doing some soul-searching over the last couple of years. God cares about your well-being and so do I.”

BOOK: Tracie Peterson
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