Before he boarded the Matthews, Jim held Sheila tightly against his dark blue uniform. The wool scratched her cheek, but still she burrowed in closer.
“You’ll be okay,” he whispered. “You know some people now and you have a good job. Everything will be fine, my little doll. Always remember how much I love you.”
Sheila didn’t think it would be fine. Sure, she did have friends—Jane and Mary Beth were good friends, but Jim disliked them. And Brenda Rolly? She’d have to wait and see about her. Brenda had told her, “You can come over to my place often.”
Sheila left wet splotches from tears along with streaks of make-up on Jim’s chest. She couldn’t get any words out, except a muffled, “Be safe,” as he pulled away and ran up the gangplank.
She and Brenda and Leeza and Sadie stood with the four little boys watching, fanning themselves with their hands.
Sadie kept saying, “I wish my Kippy was here. He’d love to see the ships.”
Why did you leave him? Sheila couldn’t help but think.
As a smell of smoking fuel filled the air, the ship slowly started to move. An out-of-tune band played “Anchors Aweigh,” and some people sang along. For once, Sheila didn’t feel like singing. Jim and the other sailors stood at the rails, watching those who had come to say “good-bye.” Pretty soon, the other women traipsed back to their cars, Brenda and Leeza herding their little boys.
Sheila stood still, rooted in place, until the ship disappeared beyond the horizon.
When she got in the sauna-like Ford, Brenda said, “You’ve gotta let him go. It’ll be nine long months. Get on with your life so time will pass quicker.”
“Mommyyyy can we go to the park?” Teddy whined.
“Wanna go to park,” Jerry chimed in.
Brenda mopped her sweaty forehead.
Sheila thought, They’ve forgotten about their father already. Both of them were holding toy trucks, ready to go play in the sand.
Wish I could forget so easily. Sheila rubbed her smudged eyes with a wadded-up tissue.
“Let’s make a picnic and we’ll all go to the park.” Brenda patted Sheila’s knee.
Sheila worried about the long separation, and living completely by herself, even though there’d been plenty of time alone with all the maneuvers. And she worried that Jim would change. Will he remain true to me? She had heard lots of stories from Julie and Anne, the two disillusioned divorced women in her office, about their ex-husband sailors, and the “fooling around” on leaves.
All she wanted to do was return to her apartment, curl up on the Murphy bed, and start her first letter. Instead, she went on a picnic with Brenda and her boys.
Once completely alone, Sheila’s life became almost totally predictable—work all day, home, bolted and chain-locked into her apartment by 6:00 p.m., no matter how many invitations from Julie and Anne to go out and experience Long Beach’s nightlife. With polite thanks but no thanks, Sheila chose to hole up in her apartment with a fan on, watching the TV purchased at the commissary to keep her company. She’d slip into the T-shirt that still carried the smell of Jim’s English Leather, and watch a program like The Dating Game.
The rendezvous of Gemini 6 and Gemini 7, coming within six feet of each other and staying close together for four hours while they circled the earth twice, showed the capability of a future moon landing. Sheila thought, Can’t they figure out how to stop wars? There were constant news reports from Vietnam. She prayed, Please have it end soon and send Jim home.
Work was work. It paid her few bills, but proved to be even less interesting than her job at the Minneapolis bank. Typing change orders all day got very old very fast. If it wasn’t for Jane’s motherly companionship, she would have asked for a transfer. And Mary Beth had become a close friend. Sheila felt big sisterly toward her. It seemed like Mary Beth was lost, not knowing what she wanted from life. In contrast, Sheila knew exactly what she wanted. She hoped to help Mary Beth—if only by listening.
Saturday, Sheila did laundry and bought a few groceries, mainly canned Spaghetti-Os and TV dinners at the little market, where she spent some time talking and laughing with Perry and Arlette. Every Saturday night, until Brenda left, was spent at her apartment, playing with the boys and watching television together, a bowl of popcorn between them. Sheila would take off the next morning for noon mass at St. Anthony’s on her way back to her own apartment.
During the homilies, a priest would speak about the last session of Vatican II. He’d say things about its goals: to update the church and widen relations with the modern world. Sheila wondered if any of this meant a thing to her personally. Would birth control be allowed? At least with Jim gone, she didn’t have to feel guilty for a good long while.
Later in the day, she visited the Klevens’ house, where she talked with Jane and Mary Beth, and played Bradley’s extra guitar. Usually she and Bradley sang together—always anti-war songs. It never occurred to her that there might be an attraction on his part, even when he said, “You have a great voice. I like to sing with you.” When Jane got ready to drive her home his hug did become much longer than Mary Beth’s.
Sadie called the next day after the ship left, wanting to come by. Glad for the heads up, Sheila told her, “I’m going to Minnesota soon. Can’t do much else right now.” She hated to say this, being as determined as ever that she would not go back to Minneapolis by herself. Please don’t jinx me.
Brenda told Sheila that Sadie called her next, and asked if she could move in—to help out. Brenda refused her, too, telling Sadie that the apartment was crowded enough with the kids, and she was handling things just fine, thank you. Sadie, as predicted, soon hightailed it back to Texas. Sheila wondered if her husband took her back, and how the son felt about the mother who had dumped them, but never heard.
Sheila would have gone to Brenda’s on Friday nights in addition to Saturday nights, but Brenda always had plans, implying they were at her church. Sheila felt relieved that she didn’t ask her to join in with these activities, because she would have refused, and the last thing Sheila wanted was hard feelings with one of her few friends. With Ted gone, Brenda had become a friend. She would occasionally read a part of a letter from him, and Sheila would get another slant on what was going on while the men were away. A comment that stuck in her mind was: “Jim’s doing well. Assure Sheila that he’s not suffering too much. He gets along with the other guys just fine—all that teamwork in high school.” She would rather have heard that he was suffering as much as she was suffering.
Initially, she and Liz slept together in the Rollys’ double bed. One Saturday night, a few weeks after the ship left, Brenda went to bed before Sheila, who was out in the living room reading a TIME Magazine that covered deaths of young Army officers in Vietnam. Jim was absolutely right to enlist in the navy. When she crawled under the covers, Brenda seemed to be sound asleep. Sheila stayed way over on her side, Ted’s side, thinking about those dead soldiers and the wives and girlfriends who had been waiting for them. Eventually, she drifted off, but a short while later, was jolted awake. Brenda cuddled into her, spoon fashion. Then, her hand started to explore, rubbing over Sheila’s butt, wriggling between her legs.
Sheila jumped out of the bed.
Brenda stirred and mumbled, “You all right?”
“Can’t sleep. I’m going in the living room.”
Apparently Brenda had been dreaming about Ted, but after that Sheila slept on the sofa.
She only saw Leeza once. Chuck’s wife had called her the next week after the ship left. “I thought you might be really lonesome,” she said. “This being your first cruise.”
“It’s lonely, yes, but I do have my work and a few friends.”
“How about if I pick you up and we go out for lunch Saturday? The boys can stay with one of the mothers here on base.
“I’d love that.”
They went to the C
opper Kettle because it was inexpensive. Sitting across from each other in the same booth Sheila and Jim had shared a few times, they each ordered a hamburger, fries, and chocolate shake—splurging. Sheila had already dropped a few pounds, and Leeza looked the same—shapely figure, shiny dark hair, clear, beautiful skin.
“Do you think Jim will stay in the navy?” She asked.
“Oh God, no!” As soon as Sheila blurted this out, she felt sorry, but Leeza didn’t seem offended.
“It’s not really so bad. The separations are horrible. But when Chuck is home we make up for lost time. The boys miss him terribly, but he sends special letters to them, and I talk about him all the time, tell them he has a very important job protecting our country.”
“I’m sorry,” Sheila said. “I didn’t mean to sound so extreme. I just want to go back to Minneapolis and start our real life.”
“This is your real life, Sheila. You have to find some things that are special to you, to use your time productively.”
“I have my music. Someday, I’m going back to school so that I can teach.”
“Why don’t you take a class at the community college now? It would give you something to do while you’re waiting. I’ve done that lots of times.”
“What sort of classes have you taken?”
“Mostly childrearing classes. There’s always something to learn about taking care of my two. I’m also interested in counseling. We have a terrific support group on base, same with every one I’ve lived on. I like to help other wives who are having a hard time. Maybe someday I’ll need some help. I hope not, but it’s good to have so many women I can count on, and I like to give back to them.”
Again Sheila wondered, Why does Brenda live all by herself?
That night she asked about this, and Brenda said, “Except for going to the commissary, I stay away from base, and hope there won’t be any need to visit the doctors.”
Her boys, happily coloring at the dining room table, seemed perfectly healthy. And they didn’t appear to be lonesome. Sheila thought it was funny that they never mentioned Ted, but Brenda said, “They’re used to him being gone. We don’t talk about him much when he’s away.” Then she added, “You can always tell which guys have been acting nasty on these cruises—by the huge number of presents they bring home.”
“What do you mean?” Sheila’s stomach clenched, looking around at all of Brenda’s enamel pieces, stored in every nook and cranny of her apartment.
“On leave … screwing around with the street girls.”
“I worry that Jim …”
“He’s not the type. Only in the navy for a short while.”
Sheila was sure that Chuck never messed around when he was away, but she didn’t say this to Brenda.
She wanted to see a lot more of Leeza, but on their one telephone call after the lunch Leeza told her, “We’ve been sick almost since Chuck left. I’ll get back to you when we’re all healthier.”
She never did.
Sheila checked into classes at the community college, a few miles away. They didn’t start until winter quarter in January, and it would mean being out a couple of nights a week until at least 10:00 p.m. She wrote Jim and asked what he thought of this. In his return letter, he said, “Wait for things to settle down. When I get shore duty, our life will be more settled. By that time I should have a car and I can drive you to and from classes.”
When Bradley heard that she wouldn’t be taking classes, he said, “You can take this guitar back to your apartment. Do some practicing every night.” He also gave her a stack of music—mostly folk songs by artists like Woody Guthrie.
Lois Brewster, the lady who lived in the apartment closest to the Greys, was another navy wife. Her husband, who Sheila never met because he was away on a cruise, was a lifer, a boatswain mate who’d been in the navy thirteen years. Lois got friendly with Sheila as soon as Jim’s ship left.
The first time she ran into her after their little tiff over the washing machine, Sheila said, “I’m sorry about last time, but I have to do laundry on Saturday. I work all week and am busy Sundays.”
“No big deal. I’m doing mine on Sundays.” Lois gave a snort that passed for a laugh. “Just remember you owe me one.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Aside from running into each other on the rooftop, Lois asked Sheila into her apartment once to have drinks and to meet her friend, Lonnie, another navy wife who lived nearby. Lonnie had a baby boy who crawled around on the carpet. He kept dropping his pacifier, and Lonnie would pick it up and shove it back in his mouth. Looking at the dirty streaks, Sheila hoped he wouldn’t get sick. She declined the beer that Lois offered, opting for a Coke, then sat and listened for about half an hour. Lonnie’s husband was on the same ship as Lois’, and they had all been friends for a few months before the Enterprise left port.
“It’s been seeing a lot of action,” Sheila said.
“We don’t pay any attention to the news. We do go over to San Pedro every Friday night. Fun time dancing … and stuff.” Lonnie picked up the baby and bounced him on her lap, trying to quiet his fussing. “Want to go with us next time?”
“Yeah. You’d have a really good time.” Lois grinned. “Get lots of attention with that red hair.”
“I usually come home on Friday nights, and settle in. Pretty tired after a long week at work.”
“I’m temporarily staying at home too much with this baby. I was a waitress at the Copper Kettle. Getting out on Friday saves my sanity.”
“I work at the Pike—cashiering,” Lois said.
Sheila briefly told them about work at Douglas.
They both decided that they weren’t cut out for her type of job. “Boring office crap.”
Wonder if they’d even get hired? Sheila pictured the women she worked with, complaining about their lives, but not one of them was as rough as these two, with flab bulging out of their skimpy shorts.
“I wish this kid’d shut up.” Lonnie took a vein-covered-breast out of her peasant blouse and shoved it into the baby’s mouth. “All he wants to do is latch onto me.” She yanked her breast away, and the baby began to screech. “I’m tired of his biting. Time for a bottle.” Lonnie reached into an overflowing faded plastic diaper bag.
“I’ll feed him if you want me to,” Sheila offered.
Lonnie handed him over without a second’s hesitation.
The baby smelled like he was thoroughly soaked, and he drooled all over Sheila’s clean white shirt, but she thought, Poor little guy.
After a moment she said, “Tania, who used to live downstairs, called the other night. She wanted me to visit her this weekend for lunch.” The baby made slurping noises, sucking on the bottle. He didn’t seem to care that Sheila was giving it to him.
“That Tania—what a bitch.” Lois sneered. “Do you like her?”
“Well, she seems nice enough,” Sheila said diplomatically. “Before he left, she had Jim and me over to see her new place—so elegant.” She wouldn’t go there for lunch, after what Jim had told her about Tania coming on to him, but she sure would have liked to visit that apartment again.
“Yeah, I question who’s paying for it.” Lonnie smirked.
“What do you mean?” Sheila had never seen any men coming to Tania’s door at the Van Dorn Apartments.
“In her prime she was one of the highest-paid hookers in LA. Still has a few old farts who hang around,” Lois said.
“I’d stay away from Tania, unless you want her to pass some action your way. I heard she even puts out for some gangster. Never can tell who you might run into at her place.” Lonnie made a gesture like shooting a pistol.
Sheila decided to stay away from these two as well as Tania.
Lois leaned over her coffee table, picking up an ashtray and her smokes.
Sheila saw a rip in the butt of her shorts, ready to burst
into something larger. She said, “I have to get back to my place—working on some stuff.” She handed the baby to Lonnie and hurried to her apartment to practice her music.
The following Friday night as soon as Sheila got home from work, Mr. Grey came to her door, holding Lonnie’s crying baby. “They asked if I’d keep him until you got back, that you were supposed to take care of him and that they’d be late.”
“I never told them any such thing!”
“What can I do with him? He can’t be crying in our place. The wife is trying to get some rest.”
Sheila looked at the baby’s dirt-streaked face. He stopped crying for a minute and gave her a soggy smile, showing a couple of new bottom teeth. “I’ll take him, but they better get home soon.”
Mr. Grey handed her the faded plastic diaper bag that contained a couple of bottles and supplies, put the baby on the sofa, and made a quick exit.
The baby turned bright red, started to scream again, and almost fell on the floor. Sheila picked him up and began to pace the small area. Seconds later, she noticed the smell. He’d dirtied his pants.
As he (she didn’t even know his name—all Lonnie and Lois had called him was “the baby” or “the kid”) yelled and squirmed, Sheila managed to hold him down to get his jammies and diaper off. As she cleaned up the stinky mess, she saw that something looked terribly wrong with his penis. Is he deformed? There was all this skin on it, sliding around as she wiped him with a wet washcloth. Then she realized, He’s not circumcised. Having seen only one other penis up close, she couldn’t help but laugh. This was going to be a learning experience.
She found some Johnson and Johnson’s Lotion in the bag and rubbed that on him. This made him smell better. She started giving him the bottle. BB (“Baby Boy”) settled down, nuzzling into her chest. He was kind of cute, with blond wispy curls. After he got done eating she knew enough to burp him, before walking him around the room, and softly singing “Puff the Magic Dragon.” When he fell asleep she put him on the Murphy bed. He’s really a nice little guy. Surely Lonnie and Lois would pick him up soon.
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