The Girls from the Beach

by Andie Newton

  Roxy stood up. “You don’t see anyone chasing us, do you, toots?” She and Gail hugged again. They told us about the tree, how they’d found the spot fairly easy, and said a nice prayer. Roxy kissed the tags before blowing that kiss into the air. “I think they’d appreciate what we did.”

  “I know they would,” Jack said. “They were good men. Fine men.” Jack motioned for her to give him the tags.

  “Oh no,” she said. “I’m in charge of these.” She slipped the tags down the front of her dress into her brassiere where she’d put the wedding bands.

  Gail brushed her hands together. “Now that that’s done. Shall we be off?”

  She said the words as if we were going to lunch—an afternoon tea. Red and I stepped back, eyes shifting.

  “Let’s go,” Roxy said, and she’d glanced at Jack’s bandaged arm. “You got the bullet out, right?”

  I stepped back further, and there was a pause.

  “What’s the hold-up?” Roxy was still smiling from retrieving the tags, but the more seconds that passed with me and Red acting strangely, her face slowly began to fall. “What?” Roxy said.

  I folded my arms only to drop them. “There’s something we need to tell you,” I said.

  Red pulled up a stool and motioned for Roxy to sit in it, which she did. And she stared up at us. “Spill it,” Roxy said. “And I swear to Christ it better be the truth.”

  She last said those words to me outside of Caen, when I lied to her about the orphan boys we’d found on the side of the street.

  *

  They’d been through hell, little towheaded angels that they were. Freckles speckled across their noses. Dirt on their cheeks, and wearing trousers that had been cut off and frayed. We’d been on marching orders to set up a hospital two miles down the road when we found them, jittering and shaking. Their mother lay in the weeds next to them, with only one nicked heel on her foot, the only parts of her poking out onto the road. I checked her pulse immediately, and it was very faint.

  “Your mother?” I kept asking the boys, but when they spoke, only gibberish came out.

  We loaded her onto our truck. She had a bullet hole in her arm, and it didn’t look right from the start. It was a blast, torn-up flesh that exposed her bone as if something was eating her from the inside. By the time we made it to our next bivouac, she’d died. The boys didn’t seem to understand.

  “Ah, little sweeties,” Roxy said. She cleaned the oldest one’s feet and picked the stickers out since he’d been walking barefoot for God knows how long. “Breaks my heart, these ones. He looks about six.” She looked at his brother. “And he looks about four.”

  I brushed the littlest one’s hair and gave him something cool to drink. “You sound like you want to take them home,” I said.

  “Well, who wouldn’t?” She held his shaking hand. “Damn Germans. Damn this war.”

  “Shh!” I said. “What if they know what you’re saying? You can’t be cursing around little kids.”

  Roxy handed her patient a blanket and he clutched it like nothing I’d seen before. Like a life raft, as if he’d float away if he let go, or sink into the earth. Even Roxy was taken back and had to turn away so he wouldn’t see her cry.

  Poor little kids. They stayed with us for two days before we had to move our hospital again. But we couldn’t take them with us. I was ordered to drop them off at the orphanage in the village, but I told Roxy their father had picked them up. Lied straight to her face.

  *

  “You see, Rox, it’s like this…” I folded my hands together and told her everything. From the sergeant to the German I interrogated and everything I’d learned about the Nazi war chest and the butcher. Her mouth opened and closed to match her widening eyes that often constricted into little black dots. I paced around in front of her, throwing my arms up and stressing to her how I didn’t want to lie, how we didn’t mean to keep things from her, but there were a set of circumstances that had unfolded right in front of us, and that I’d burned Red too, having kept a secret from her about Karlsruhe.

  “And you see, Rox,” I said, “we weren’t sent over here just to fix up stranded boys. We were sent here to finish the job—the butcher is expecting women to retrieve the package. We need to get in there and steal the goods. We’re the only ones who can finish Jack’s operation.”

  Gail sat on the bed with a flump, and I was immediately reminded of the moment she first entered our tent and threw her bag on Roxy’s cot. Only this time she put a hand to her head and slumped forward, a smear of dirt on her dress and on her knees. Her hair in fuzzy braids. She pulled the ribbons out and tossed them over her shoulder. She looked exhausted all of a sudden, the excitement from retrieving the tags, lost.

  Roxy had a strange look in her eye too, though I couldn’t read her at all—was she mad at us, or was she ready to go?

  She stood up. “I’m so mad I could spit.”

  “Well then do it,” I said, but Roxy smacked me upside the head. Then she smacked Red too!

  “Oww,” Red said, holding the top of her head. “Why’d you have to go and do that?”

  “That’s for lying to me.” Roxy sat back down and crossed her legs, only this time she swung her leg up and down, and Red and I knew to let her be. She twirled a piece of her hair rapidly around her finger to the point that it looked painful.

  “What if we don’t go?” Gail said.

  “They’re planning to attack the POW camps,” I said. “Starting with the one in Karlsruhe—where my brother is.”

  Roxy stopped swinging her leg, pulling her finger from her hair. “Whoa! This changes everything—the POW camps?”

  “If we cut off their funding then we can stop them before their plans even get off the ground. If we don’t, hundreds of our boys will die the moment the Allies cross the Rhine.”

  “That could be soon!” Gail said.

  I stood next to Red. “We’re going. But listen, you don’t have to—”

  Roxy stood up. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah what?” I said.

  “Yeah, I’ll go,” she said, and I threw my arms around her. “Doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you for lying.”

  “Sure, Rox,” I said, pulling away. “I understand. And from now on I’ll never tell you another lie. I promise.” We hugged again.

  Gail stood up next. “I’ll go too.”

  “Thank you,” I said to all of them. “Thank—” But I choked on my words, unable to speak with the lump that had formed in my throat.

  “I know, doll,” Roxy said, and she wiggled my hand. “All right?”

  I nodded.

  *

  I spread Jack’s map out on the floor to study it. There was a good distance according to my measurement—a half a day’s walk—between the city square and the butcher’s, which looked like it could be a farm. A thin forest separated the two after more village streets. Jack also mentioned a cornfield, which I thought would be good for cover.

  “What’s it like out there?” I said to Roxy.

  “Did you see any more police or what about soldiers?” Red asked.

  “Nah, none of that,” Roxy said. “But the pharmacist’s house.” She whistled, flicking her fingers in the air. “Man, oh man, is it a sight. Lined with brick, real pretty, and big…”

  Red wrapped her arms around Roxy’s neck, giving her a great big hug, and she looked completely stunned, eventually patting Red’s back and looking to me for an explanation. I shrugged even though I knew exactly why Red had grabbed onto her. “You all right, Red?” she finally said, but Red squeezed a little tighter. “Red?”

  “We were worried about you two,” I said, and Red finally released Roxy.

  “I’m all right,” Roxy said. “Let me know if you wanna hear more because—”

  “Can any of you shoot a gun?” Jack asked, and all four of us spun around.

  “Why?” Red looked offended. “We save people. Not kill them.”

  Jack chuckled as if he thought she was j
oking. “Wait, you’re serious?” He straightened up, clearing his throat. “You’re behind enemy lines.” He paused. “You need a gun. You’re sitting ducks without one.”

  Red looked surprised when he pulled a gun from a leg holster and handed it to her, pinching it between her fingers as if it were a rotten, stinking fish. “The doctor had our gun. And why do we need a gun if you’re coming?” Red snarled. “I’m not shooting this.”

  “We should prepare for the worst,” Jack said. “If we get separated, or for when you ask for the package… I won’t be with you inside the butcher’s house. Who’s used a gun before?”

  I carefully raised my hand. “My brother took me hunting once. It was a rifle, but aiming’s the same, right?” Red swung her arm over to me and now I was the one with the gun.

  “Aiming is the same,” he said, “and don’t hold it like that.” Jack showed me quickly how to handle the gun, which ended with him saying not to aim it at anything I didn’t intend to kill.

  I fit the holster strap around my leg and was able to cover it with my dress.

  “That’s for an emergency, you understand? All we need to do is make it here,” he said, pointing to the spot on his map. “Pick up the package and leave.”

  Gail had closed her eyes. “You make it sound so simple. Is it really that simple? Tell me it is. Even if it isn’t, I want to hear you say it.” Her eyes remained closed, waiting for Jack to repeat what he’d said, but Roxy elbowed her way to the front.

  “Didn’t you say they’re women?” Roxy asked. “These werewolves.”

  “They are women,” he said.

  “See, Gail,” Roxy said. “We got these dresses on.” She fluffed her skirt before feeling her unkempt braids. “German braids in our hair… And we have Jack. You know in Jersey…”

  Roxy could make anything sound like a trip to the market. We were in fact behind enemy lines, and about to steal a portion of the Nazi war chest. I hugged her unexpectedly, so glad she was back, but she immediately stiffened.

  “Oh, from you too, Kit?” She patted my back like she had patted Red’s. “What’s gotten into—”

  I pulled away. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

  *

  Me and Gail convinced the pharmacist into letting us stay the night by talking to the wife. Me, with my flattery and thanks, and Gail with the cold hard facts that five shadows creeping out the back in the moonlight was more suspicious than five people dressed like Germans walking out into the daylight, especially after Gail and Roxy had already done it successfully.

  We all took spots on the floor, but I couldn’t sleep and lay with my eyes open, thinking about the journey tomorrow—all that could go wrong and all that could go right. I stared at the door to the pharmacy, and then the locked doorknob. What I needed was a smoke to relax me, and the longer I lay looking at the locked door, the more I thought about that pack of cigarettes the pharmacist had in his jacket. I should have just asked him for one when I had the chance.

  Jack woke up to me examining the lock by flickering candlelight. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

  “Shh,” I whispered back, and he lay back down while I slipped into the dark hallway where it was eerily quiet. I had a few thoughts as I stood against the wall. One was that Red was going to kill me if she woke up and found me missing. The other was that I needed to hurry.

  I scooted along the wall toward the register where the pharmacist had hung his white jacket. Dim moonlight cast through the large windowpanes near the street, lighting up the floor and the mostly bare shelves. I peeled myself away from the wall, breathing a little rapidly now, being alone in the pharmacy with all those windows. Four big steps was about all it should take to reach the jacket. One step became two, then three, and the next thing I knew I was reaching into the pharmacist’s pocket, but it was empty, save for his lighter. Damn. I wondered where he might keep his extras, if he didn’t keep them at home.

  I searched the counter, then the shelves under the register, thinking about the seconds that had become minutes with me gone from the cellar, and how I was taking too much time, fingers reaching, when I felt his stash of smokes tucked behind a wood box filled with bric-a-brac. I was surprised to find it was a whole pack.

  I scurried back down the hallway, taking giant tiptoe steps, only to throw my back up against the cellar door once I was inside. Red was up. She lifted her head from the noise and searched the air. My neck instantly turned warm and sweaty.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  I smiled. “I… I thought I heard a noise,” I said, and she studied me in the flickering candlelight, failing to notice my hand behind my back. I moved to sit next to Jack’s bed, stepping over Roxy and Gail’s legs on the floor.

  I smiled nervously at him, and Red rolled over, away from us.

  “Did you find anything?” he whispered after Red had gone back to sleep, and I nodded, showing him the cigarettes. “Rather dangerous to go out there for a pack of cigs.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want one?” I said, fanning my neck cool.

  “I didn’t say that…” he said, but then I realized I’d forgotten the pharmacist’s lighter.

  “Ah hell, I forgot to take the lighter.” I hung my head.

  “I have one,” he said, and he pulled a lighter from his pocket.

  “It’s fate then,” I said, and we shared a smoke together, and it did relax me. “Jack,” I said, and he looked at me. “The other day I saw you outside the mess tent. Seemed like you wanted to say something to me.”

  He rolled over slightly and now our arms were touching. “Yeah,” he said. “You caught me seconds before I left to come here.”

  “Well, what was it?” I said, and I wasn’t about to move my arm if he wasn’t. “What did you want to say?”

  “Already said it,” he said.

  “What do you mean you already said it?” I’d turned all the way around and looked him in the eyes.

  “I hoped it was you,” he said, and I smiled, and we both finished our cigarettes, talking about Washington and the places we called home.

  After a short sleep, the pharmacist’s wife unlocked the door. She looked at me suspiciously, as if she knew I’d snuck out, but instead of scolding me like I thought she was about to do, she handed us each a hunk of bread. “It’s morning,” she said. “You leave before my husband comes in.” After staring at us for a moment, and after I promised her we’d be gone, she left.

  There was some discussion about what to pack since we weren’t on a medical mission anymore, and decided to only carry enough for one wound because of the bulk. But one thing Red wouldn’t part with was the morphine. She’d taken the syrettes out of her dress to rearrange them, and noticed me watching her. “Let’s move out,” she said, and we headed to the back door, but Jack fell backward on the bed, dizzy, and holding his head.

  “Wait,” he said. “Whoa, I think I stood up too quickly.” He repositioned his bandaged arm, wincing before trying to get up again, but he only flopped back down.

  Me and Red looked at each other. “He can’t go,” I said, and there was a collective gasp. Roxy put her hand to her mouth. The entire job seemed much more doable with him. But he was weak. His face was pale and his arm was still gimpy.

  “I’m sorry, Kit,” he said. “All of you.”

  “No, no, no, no…” Gail said. “We can’t go without him.”

  “This is bad,” Roxy said. “This is really bad.”

  I examined his arm and retightened the bandage before helping him lie back down on the bed. He stared up at us from his back. The silence was deafening when he handed Red his map.

  “You made it this far,” he said. “I know you can do it. Besides, you know what they say about the girls from the beach, don’t you?” He paused. “You’re the heroines.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said, and I thought of Doctor Burk. I certainly wasn’t his heroine. “But the pharmacist and his wife,” I said. “They want us gone. What if they do
n’t let you stay?” I grabbed his good arm. “Jack, I don’t want to leave you behind.”

  He itched his beard stubble. “I’ll have to talk to them, and hopefully with my broken German and their broken English we can reach an understanding. Fact is, I can’t walk out of here in this state. It will look suspicious. Someone will notice if I can’t stand.” He looked up after pausing. “Listen.” He swallowed dryly. “Meet me on the other side of the Rhine. There’s a vineyard, in the middle of it is a house, yellow with green dormers. No pillboxes, no dragon’s teeth—it’s a clean walk and only a few miles west. I’ll wait there for you,” he said to us all, but he looked at me, and our eyes connected in a way I didn’t expect.

  I felt the others staring.

  “I guess we don’t have a choice,” I said. It was a short reply, but there was nothing else to say, really. He reached for my hand as the others left out the door.

  “Be safe,” he said, and our fingers slid off one another’s, and with his touch in that cold cement cellar, I imagined him dying alone. I moved to leave, but one of the more painful memories of the war had suddenly blanketed me in a fog. I braced the doorframe, eyes closed tightly.

  *

  We set up our hospital in a damaged building, pockmarked with blasts from German 88s. The windows were shattered and the walls looked like they’d cave in with one gust of wind. Surgery was set up in the back, away from the opening, where the medics brought in patients. Soldiers lay on the ground, moaning, festering, and holding their body parts together. We covered the windows with empty potato sacks we’d found in crates.

  Doctor Burk pushed his sleeves up, calling for Red, who’d been washing her hands in a dribble of water leaking out of a lone spigot in the wall. Me and Roxy ripped the soldier’s uniform from his body. Our only light was a single bulb strung up over our makeshift operating table. Sniper fire popped throughout the village in menacing, spaced-out attacks.

  Red ordered me to help administer the ether. “But I haven’t been trained for anesthesia.”

  “Trained or not, this is war,” the doctor butted in, and that was the first rule of many I would later break.