Back to Yesterday

by Pamela Sparkman

  “Ah.” I tried to stand, and then thought better of it, automatically reaching for my head and feeling bandages.

  “It probably feels worse than it actually is,” he said, pointing to my head. “Here, have some water.”

  “Thank you.” I drank it, not realizing how thirsty I was. “Can I have some more?”

  “Sure.” He filled my tin cup with more cold water and I leaned against the back wall.

  “Who’s Sophie?” the young man asked.

  “What?”

  “You were saying Sophie before. Is she your girlfriend?”

  I set the cup on the dirt floor and got back in the same spot I woke up in. I wasn’t in immediate danger anymore and my head felt like it was splitting in two. “I need to rest a bit longer,” I said. “We’ll figure out if the plane can be fixed when I wake up.” I no longer felt like talking, so I ignored his question. Sophie was mine, and I didn’t want to share her with anyone. I reached into my inside chest pocket, making sure the letter was still there and closed my eyes.

  The café felt a bit like home to me. I don’t know if it was the Formica tabletops with chrome edges, the metal chairs, the Linoleum floors, the smell of hamburgers and apple pie, or the wooden radio that played Bing Crosby, but it beckoned me to sit and stay, so I did. I found myself stopping by the café every day, staying longer and longer each time. I soon realized that it wasn’t the café that beckoned me at all. It was Sophie.

  It wasn’t intentional in the beginning, wanting to be where she was, to be near her. I didn’t even know her. All I knew was I liked the way she sounded when she laughed out loud. Her laugh was like a baptism for my soul. The sound would trickle over me like water, making me feel brand new, like I had been reborn. After a while I needed her laugh like I needed air to breathe.

  It also didn’t hurt that she was beautiful. I mean really beautiful. Her hair was always styled so elegantly, parted down the middle, rolled, and pinned off her face so her vibrant blue eyes were on full display. And her lips were always painted a brilliant red. I was drawn to her, drawn to everything about her. I loved that she liked to sing when she thought no one was listening, and that she cursed under her breath, especially when she thought no one was listening. I wanted to laugh every time. She thought she could hide it. She couldn’t. Not with me. I saw everything, and seeing her that way made me want to stay in her presence. I had found true beauty when I met Sophie, in a world where I had begun to think such things no longer existed. When I found her, I wanted to hold on to her.

  “I would say we could go for a walk but…” she eyed my crutches, “…that’s probably not a good idea.”

  Her evening shift was over and I had patiently waited for her, sipping my coffee, her refilling my cup whenever it would run low before I even had to ask. “I don’t mind,” I said. ” In truth, I would have been willing to crawl on all fours if it meant spending time with her.

  “That wouldn’t be very fair to you,” she said. “There’s a park across the street. We can go there and have a seat on one of the benches, maybe people-watch.” She observed me curiously and I was more than okay being observed by her. “How does that sound?” she paused, “Mr…?”

  “Charles,” I said. “My name is Charles.”

  “Charles,” she repeated softly. “Do you like to people-watch? I find it very entertaining.”

  “I enjoy it if they hold my attention.”

  “Do many people hold your attention, Charlie?”

  No one ever called me Charlie, but I found I liked it when she said it. I sat up straighter, wondering if this was a question she was asking because she knew I had been watching her for the past couple of weeks. Maybe she was testing my honesty, so I decided I would do just that, be honest with her.

  “Only one person seems to have snagged my attention.”

  She contemplated that for a moment and then said, “You haven’t asked me my name. Don’t you want to know?”

  I pointed to her nametag on her waitress uniform. “Your nametag says Sophie.” I smiled and reached for my crutches. “Can we go to the park now?”

  I was eager to see what she was like outside of the café, under the big open sky.

  When we sat down on the park bench together, away from the prying eyes of everyone else, we fell into casual conversation, the usual pleasantries of getting to know someone. Then I asked her, “Are you rationed, Sophie?

  “Rationed?”

  “Yes. Are you going steady with anyone?

  She blushed and looked away. “No, I’m not. Are you?”

  Relieved, I answered, “No.”

  “How did you break your leg?”

  War was an ugly subject, and I didn’t want to taint the beauty I had found. It also wasn’t a subject I liked to discuss – how I got my injury, however, the ocean in her eyes held a calming effect over me so I told her how it happened.

  “There was a flak burst that sent shrapnel into my fuselage. My leg caught the worst of it.”

  “What’s a flak burst?”

  “It’s an artillery shell that is shot from the ground to blow planes out of the sky.” I watched her expression closely. “It blew a hole in the side of my plane.”

  “How did you keep from crashing?”

  “It wasn’t unexpected. We were escorting our bombers when we came under fire. It was commonplace, so we knew to take evasive action three minutes outside our target area. However, I still got hit by a piece of it and, well, this was the result. I had to abort and head back to base. If I hadn’t taken shrapnel in the leg I could have continued on my mission, hole or no hole. You’d be surprised how much damage a fighter plane can take and still fly.” I looked away from her at that point. “Humans can only take so much, though,” I said to myself quietly.

  “Is that why you’re here now? Because you got hurt? They sent you back home?”

  I breathed out a sigh. “Yeah. I can’t fly with a busted leg.”

  After about a minute of silence Sophie said, “You don’t want to talk about this do you?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Okay.” She smiled. “What would you like to talk about?”

  “You. Let’s talk about you.”

  “Me? There’s not much to talk about I’m afraid. I’m a boring subject.”

  I shook my head. “I find you fascinating.”

  Her cheeks tinged a pale pink color, and she tried to laugh it off. “There’s nothing fascinating about me.”

  “Everything about you fascinates me.”

  She shifted her eyes bashfully to meet mine. “What things?”

  I was grinning. I could feel my whole face light up with the words I was about to say. “You never back down from a bet. No matter how ridiculous. You can’t say no. Remember the chili pepper?”

  The first time I came into the café she was accepting a bet from one of the customers, a regular, I would soon learn. He bet her that she couldn’t eat a chili pepper without drinking anything after. I don’t know why, but I wanted to see what she would do. I sat down on the furthest stool at the other end of the counter and watched her chew the pepper. Her eyes watered, her face turned red, and I was completely captivated. Then she reached for a jar of honey and spooned out a huge glob and put it in her mouth. She closed her eyes tightly, like she was finding relief. Not long after, she was completely fine. She told the customer to pay up, because after all, she never drank a drop, and then went right back to work, like this was something she did every day.

  “You were there?”

  I nodded. “It was the first time I ever saw you, the first day someone held my attention.”

  That earned me a laugh. A real one. And it bathed my soul like all the laughs before it.

  “I always win,” she said with satisfaction. “I’ve never lost a bet.”

  After contemplating that for a moment, the craziest notion struck me, and before I could talk myself out of it, I blurted it out. “I have a bet I know you can’t win, Miss Sophie.”


  She turned to me with a look of delight, like she was about to prove me wrong. “Oh yeah? What’s the bet, Mr. Charlie?”

  I stared into the ocean in her eyes, drowning in them, and said, “I bet I can make you fall in love with me.”

  A shocked expression fell over her. I can’t really blame her. I shocked myself when I said it.

  She scoffed. “Fall in love with you? Why, we just met. I don’t even know your last name. And I have no intentions of falling in love with anyone.” She stood and walked a couple of feet away, hugging herself. She walked to the edge of the pond and I heard her curse under her breath, earning a chuckle from me.

  “Then you should have no problem accepting the bet. If I can’t make you fall in love with me, then you win, and your winning record remains intact.”

  She spun around, questions burning in her eyes. Then she straightened her spine, her shoulders lifting in defiance. “You’re gonna lose this bet, Charlie.”

  I reached for my crutches, stood, and made my way to the edge of the pond. When I reached her she looked up at me. For a fleeting second I saw a crack in her armor.

  I’m gonna make you fall in love with me, Sophie.

  I stroked her cheek with the pad of my thumb, held her gaze, and said softly, “This should be interesting then… because I never lose a bet either.”

  “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

  I sat up and rolled my neck, feeling the cords of tension and sore muscles in every nook and cranny in my body. I was alive though, so I wasn’t going to complain too much.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “As long as a dirt nap isn’t permanent all is well.”

  I laughed at my own joke because what else was I going to do? Wallow in self pity? That wasn’t going to get me home, so I used the sense of humor God gave me and made the best of a bad situation. Besides that, I was a United States Army Air Corp pilot. I wasn’t helpless. I refused to be. My plane may be wrecked but I still had skill and it was time I put it to use.

  I brought myself to a standing position, relieved that I only saw one head this time instead of three. “Thank you for helping me,” I said, extending my hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Levi,” he answered, shaking my hand. He gestured toward the open barn door where I saw a young man tilling soil, most likely hiding the evidence of where my plane had skidded to a halt. “My son’s name is Maikel. We were both a bit worried about you. Good to see you up and standing on your own two feet.”

  “It’s good to be standing, sir. You mind if I take a look at my plane…see what the damage is?”

  “Of course, of course.” He motioned for me to follow him. “We hid it around back and covered it up with what we had…brush and thatch mostly.”

  After uncovering the nose of the plane I discovered it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Bent propellers were my biggest problem. I would need to repair the fuel line and maybe clean out the oil cooler, but fixing the propellers was my first priority if I was going to get back in the air and hopefully back to base. The other repairs would be much easier to fix.

  “You got a block and tackle and some timbers to hoist this baby up?” I asked Levi. “I need to get the nose off the ground.”

  He rubbed at his jaw a moment then nodded. “It’ll take some work lifting her. How much does she weigh?”

  My lips twitched in a lopsided grin. “Only about forty-five hundred pounds.”

  He reciprocated with a grin of his own. “That all?”

  I dropped a hand on his shoulder and patted it a couple times, laughing at the fact that I was able to laugh. Plus, I recognized blessings when they stood in front of me, and Levi was a blessing. Of that, I was sure.

  “Show me your tools, Levi. Let’s show that boy of yours how it’s done.”

  I was reading an article in The Tennessean about the war abroad when I was interrupted.

  “She’s not here today. It’s her day off.”

  Her tone was friendly, on the verge of laughing actually. I looked up from my newspaper. “Who’s not here today?”

  Setting down a basket of piping hot biscuits I didn’t order and refilling my coffee, she said, “Don’t be coy. You know who I’m talking about.”

  I shifted in my seat and folded my paper. “Why do I feel like I’m under interrogation?”

  She leaned down so we were closer to eye level and in a sugary voice said, “I have no idea, although I do have a question for you.”

  Gesturing for her to continue, I picked up my coffee and sipped it.

  “What are your intentions with my best friend?”

  I placed my cup down casually. “Who’s your best friend?”

  She stood up taller and folded her arms across her chest. She wore the same waitress attire that Sophie wore, blue dress, white apron. She looked down at me like I was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  Fine.

  I motioned for her to have a seat across from me, and waited for her to settle in. “My intentions with Sophie are pure, I assure you. I know you’re not gonna be satisfied with that so what exactly do you want to know?”

  She regarded me for a moment. “You know what… I believe you.” Her brown eyes were nothing like Sophie’s blue ones, but they were pretty and I could see sincerity behind them.

  “That’s it? You’re gonna take me at my word? What kind of best friend are you?” I admit, I was relieved, and I’m sure it showed, however, I was also cautious.

  She eyeballed me curiously for a couple of seconds. “For two weeks you’ve come in here, wearing your uniform, hobbling along on your crutches, ordering your coffee, barely speaking to a soul, only saying please and thank you when appropriate. You’re not being rude in any way, but if you’re not looking at Sophie then it’s like you don’t see or notice anyone or anything else around you. You’re smitten and I don’t need you to tell me that. I can see it with my own eyes.”

  She started to stand and I stopped her. “Wait, so why did you ask me what my intentions were if you knew all that?”

  A tiny smile fixed itself at the corner of her lips. “Like you said, what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t ask? I did my duty.” She paused, “May I give you a piece of advice?”

  “Sure.”

  “As easygoing as Sophie appears to be, she guards herself. She won’t make this easy for you. So keep that in mind when she pushes, and she will. You may need to do some pushing of your own. Understand? I’m only telling you this because I think you deserve to know.”

  Glancing at her nametag, I said, “Elizabeth, I’ve been to war and back. I’m up for whatever Sophie throws my way. I think I can handle it.”

  Without hesitation, she said, “If I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t be over here wasting my time giving you a heads up.” She slid out of the booth. “I need to get back to work now. Enjoy the biscuits. I made them myself.”

  “Wait.” I hurriedly scribbled on a napkin and then handed it to her. “Would you mind giving this to Sophie please?”

  “What is it?”

  This time a smile clung to the edge of my lips. “My last name.”

  The next day wasn’t anything I’d expected, even with Elizabeth’s warning. I was sitting in my usual spot when Sophie approached.

  “What did you do to Elizabeth?” she asked.

  Stunned, I said, “I didn’t do anything to Elizabeth.”

  “She likes you. She doesn’t like anybody. How’d you do that?” Her lips were pursed and she was showing me that spunk I was becoming addicted to.

  I chuckled. “Maybe I’m just a likeable kind of guy.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Or maybe you worked some kind of voodoo on her.”

  My chuckle turned into an all out laugh. “You don’t believe that.”

  “Perhaps not, but–”

  “Let me take you to dinner, I want to take you on a date.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Charlie.” />
  “Why not?”

  “Because…because…” She uncrossed her arms and began to fidget with the dishcloth in her hand. “I’m busy. I have to wash my hair.”

  “When?”

  “When did you want to take me out?”

  “Saturday.”

  “I’m washing my hair on Saturday.”

  “All day?”

  “Yes, it’s…uh…an all day thing.”

  I tapped my fingers on the table. “You know, you’re a terrible liar. Besides, you sort of have to let me take you out.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because, I can’t make you fall in love with me if you don’t let me take you on a date. It’s sort of a condition of the bet, spending time with me.”

  “There were no conditions when we made that bet.”

  “The conditions were implied. Unless…” I raised a brow, “you’re scared that spending time with me will make you lose. You’re not …scared, are you?”

  And there it was again, steely strength mixed with defiance. I loved it.

  “Fine, but you have to take me out in broad daylight where there are plenty of witnesses.”

  “Witnesses? Why would we need witnesses?”

  She cast aside her dishcloth and looked me in the eye. Her oceanic eyes looked like a storm was brewing. “Because you seem a bit too perfect, Mr. Hudson. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Also, you make silly bets. I don’t entirely trust you and–”

  “You like silly bets. You never lose, remember?”

  “We can get to know each other under the sun just as easily as we can under the moon. Can we not?”

  I leaned forward, placed my elbows on the table, and scrubbed my face with both hands. She was frustrating.

  “Okay, that was a whole lot of gobbledygook.” She opened her mouth to say something but I cut her off. “However, for the sake of making you comfortable, I’m fine with a daytime date. Picnic in the park sound good?” She nodded. “Okay, so it’s settled.”

  She gripped the dishcloth in her hands and twisted it several times. “Yes, it’s settled. I’ll meet you–”