Eyes on the Stars

by Lynn Ames

  The medicine chest, usually crammed with Claudia’s makeup, perfume, hairbrushes, and lotions, was empty save for toothpaste, Jessie’s toothbrush, soap, shampoo, antiperspirant, and a single comb.

  Empty hangars hung in the closet where Claudia’s dresses and uniforms had been. Dresser drawers held nothing but mothballs and blocks of cedar.

  Claudia had changed the sheets and pillowcases. Jessie ran her hands over the bedspread, imagining Claudia’s hands smoothing it out. Jessie’s clothes, the ones so hastily discarded during their frantic lovemaking, were folded on the chair. Jessie held the clothes up to her face and sniffed. The scent of their lovemaking filled her nostrils and she sank into the chair, balled the clothes up in her fists and crushed them to her chest.

  The sound of her agony, the echo of her loss, bounced off the walls and boomeranged back at her. Tears ran down her face and neck to be absorbed by her uniform blouse. They would never make love again. Claudia was gone.

  Images of the night before played in Jessie’s mind—Claudia’s mouth and hands demanding and greedy, Claudia urging Jessie on, taking more and more until Jessie had no more to give, Claudia begging Jessie to make love to her as if she would never make love to her again.

  Jessie shot up out of the chair and threw the clothes across the room. Claudia played her. She seduced Jessie, knowing all the while that she was pregnant with Matt’s child. Jessie ran to the bathroom and threw up.

  Back in the bedroom she sat down on the floor with her back against the bed and wiped her face with a cool washcloth. How could Claudia have betrayed her this way? For two months Claudia had strung her along, let her believe that they had a future together. Would Claudia even have told her about having sex with Matt if she hadn’t gotten pregnant?

  “Jessie Keaton is nobody’s sucker. Not even yours, Claude.” Jessie’s voice shook with anger. “How could I have been so damn stupid? To think that someone like me could really end up with someone like you… I should have known better.”

  A shadow crept across the floor and Jessie realized the sun had risen. She stood up, dusted herself off, and readied herself for a new day. If she could just hold onto her anger, she was sure she could make it through her shift without crying.

  Jessie picked up the letter again and reread it. I cannot tell my parents the truth; I can’t tell anyone, for the one thing I will never do is put you in jeopardy. Why in the world would Claudia even have considered telling her parents about their relationship? Of course it would have endangered Jessie, perhaps even ended her career as a WASP, but it would have done more damage, unnecessarily, to Claudia. Despite her protestations to the contrary, she would marry Matt; no one need ever know about her lesbian affair. Yes, Claudia had to tell her parents about leaving the WASPs and the pregnancy. It wasn’t as though she could have hidden either of those things forever. But if she married quickly enough, no one ever had to know she had sex before the wedding, and the impending nuptials could have been her reason for leaving the WASPs.

  “Wait a minute! Natalie said Claudia never married. I know Claudia told me she didn’t want to marry Matt, but that was in the heat of the moment. What else could she have said to me?”

  Jessie ran through possibilities in her mind. Maybe she did marry Matt, but he was killed in the war after the honeymoon and before Natalie was born. But why then wouldn’t Claudia tell Natalie who her father was? Too painful? Perhaps she married Matt, found out what a jerk he really was, and divorced him before Natalie was born or before she was old enough to remember. She didn’t want to tell Natalie who her father was because he was an idiot. Jessie smiled at that scenario. Maybe Claudia’s parents found out about the pregnancy and forbade her to marry Matt because he defiled her before the wedding. That seemed doubtful, but nothing else made any sense to Jessie.

  Perhaps if she kept reading, the answer would become clear to her.

  September 12, 1943

  My Dearest Darling Jess,

  I’m on a train again, this time to Los Angeles. I feel like a vagabond or a vagrant. My heart is so heavy. It seems I really have lost everything.

  I told my parents that I was pregnant and that I had no intention of marrying the father. I wouldn’t even tell them who it was…

  “Claudia Jean, you most certainly will tell us. And then I will hunt that boy down and make him do right by you.”

  “Daddy, I don’t want to marry this baby’s father.”

  “Sweetheart, why are you talking such nonsense? You made a mistake, but it’s not too late to fix it.”

  “Mama, I don’t want to fix this. I’m not in love with the boy, and I have no intention of settling down with him. You don’t want me to live my whole life without love, do you?”

  “You should have thought of that before you… Well, you know.” Mr. Sherwood loomed over Claudia. “Just what do you think you’re going to do? How do you think you’re going to support this child?”

  “I’ll find a way. I’ll get a job.”

  “You are so naïve. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be an unwed mother? People will stare and point and whisper behind your back.”

  “I can’t do anything about that and it’s still no good reason to get married.”

  “I’m warning you, if you are determined to have this baby out of wedlock, we’ll have nothing more to do with you. You’ll be cut off without a cent.”

  “Jonathan!”

  “Elizabeth, it’s for her own good. I can’t have her running about town flaunting her mistakes. It’ll be bad for business. She needs to learn to take responsibility for her choices.”

  “Very well.” Claudia stood up. “I guess we’re done here.” She picked up her bag and carried it to the door. Tears threatened, but she refused to cry in front of her father.

  “Take care of yourself, Mama.” Claudia’s lips trembled. She lifted her chin higher, unwilling to show weakness.

  “Baby, please don’t go. Jonathan, this is madness. We can’t throw our own daughter out into the street, especially not in her condition.” Mrs. Sherwood looked from one of them to the other. Claudia didn’t budge. Mr. Sherwood waved a hand dismissively and left the room.

  “I love you, Mama,” Claudia said, hugging her mother tightly.

  “I’m sorry, baby. He’ll come around.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Wait a second. Wait right here.” Mrs. Sherwood ran out of the room and returned a few seconds later. “This is for you.” She handed Claudia an envelope. “I’ve been saving it for a rainy day, but I want you to have it.”

  “Mama…”

  “I insist. Now go before your father finds out.”

  Anyway, I hear the North American plant in Inglewood, California is looking for assembly-line workers to build AT-6s and P-51 Mustangs. I figure I might have a leg up, seeing as how I know how to fly those birds and we spent all that time hanging around the mechanics back at Sweetwater.

  It’ll be months before the baby starts to show, so I’m just going to try to forget about it for now (as if I could) and find a way to make a living for myself.

  Sorry, seems I got the stationery wet with my tears. I’m trying to keep up a brave front, sugar. I know that’s what you would do. I miss you so much there’s a hole right in the center of my heart. You’re my everything, Jess. Now and always. And I might never see you again and I can never explain.

  I tell myself that someday, someday I’ll make it right and you’ll forgive me. But I think that’s just a story I tell myself so that I keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  I miss you more than words can say.

  Your girl,

  Claudia

  Jessie fumbled for the box of Kleenex on the nightstand. “Oh my God, Claude. Your parents disowned you?” Jessie tried to put herself in Claudia’s shoes—pregnant, all alone with no income and no place to go and…heartsick over losing Jessie?

  She told her parents she had no intention of marrying Matt. She only told Jessie that s
he didn’t want to marry him. That was not the same as outright saying she wouldn’t marry him, and that she didn’t love him. Why hadn’t she told Jessie that? Everything might have been different if she’d just said she didn’t love him.

  Jessie tried to recall the conversation that awful early morning when Claudia told her she was pregnant. The news was so shocking, so unexpected. Jessie remembered feeling like she’d been hit with a two by four, then the momentary hope when she’d thought Matt might have defiled Claudia against her will. That was dashed when Claudia flatly denied being forced to have sex with Matt. That was when Jessie went numb, as if there was nothing left inside, and a strange calm descended over her. It was almost what the modern generation would call an out-of-body experience. From a great distance, Jessie had heard herself bully Claudia into resigning.

  “Oh, Claude. I wish I’d been stronger back then. I wish I’d been a better person, someone who was more sure of herself and less threatened by the likes of Matt Dunphy. I wish I’d thought I had a real chance to compete for you. Maybe things would’ve turned out different.”

  Instead, Jessie had retreated and closed herself off.

  Jessie looked down at the faded piece of stationery in her lap. “September 12, 1943. By then I was all the way across the country trying my best to get myself killed.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Spending time in the bungalow alone was unbearable. Everywhere Jessie turned, there were reminders of Claudia. If she stood at the sink, she relived their lovemaking on that last night together. If she sat on the sofa, she could see the indentation where Claudia used to sit. And sleeping in the bed they shared was completely out of the question.

  Jessie moved into the spare bedroom, but even that was too painful. Claudia’s perfume was in the air, her presence haunted every room, and Jessie was beside herself.

  “I’d like to request a transfer.” Jessie stood at attention in front of Jackie Cochran, who had just flown in to check on her girls.

  “Why is that?”

  “Ma’am, I heard about Mabel Rawlinson’s death at Camp Davis a couple of weeks ago. I know that a lot of the girls are jumpy, and you know I’m one of the best pilots you’ve got. I think Camp Davis is where I can do the most good right now.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Sherwood’s resignation, would it, Keaton?”

  Jessie schooled her expression to stay neutral. “No, ma’am. I know you’re in a bind, and I’m volunteering to help. That’s all.”

  Cochran stared at Jessie for a long time. “Can’t say as I believe your reasoning, Keaton, but I sure could use you over there. Wrap up your affairs, get packed, and let’s get you a plane. You’re going to North Carolina.”

  Jessie caught the first bus back to the bungalow and packed her things. She found the landlord and negotiated the return of the next two months’ rent Claudia had paid him before she departed. All that was left was to clear out.

  It should have been easy. After all, the bungalow was just a place she had lain her head for a couple of months. But when Jessie made one last sweep to ensure that she hadn’t missed anything, the emotions she’d been holding in check bubbled to the surface. This was the place she and Claudia shared together. The home where they’d shared their dreams, their hopes, their love. It was the last place she’d seen Claudia, and the last place Claudia knew to find her. When she left here, Jessie would be closing the door on a part of her life she had hoped and expected to last forever.

  What if Claudia came back? She wouldn’t know where to look for Jessie. What if something went wrong and Claudia needed her? This house was the last thing tethering them together.

  Jessie sat down at the dining room table. If she closed her eyes, she could hear Claudia’s laughter as she recounted snippets of her day. She could see Claudia at the sink doing the dishes. She could feel Claudia’s hands kneading the knots in her neck as she sat in this very chair. Walking out the front door meant giving up hope that what was done could be undone.

  “Who are you kidding? You were the one who told her you never wanted to see her again. She’s never coming back.”

  Jessie hoisted the duffle bag over her shoulder and hustled outside. There was only one direction to go and that was forward.

  Jessie arrived at Camp Davis almost two weeks to the day after the tragic accident that took Mabel Rawlinson’s life. There were fifty-two WASPs at Camp Davis, more than at any other base in the country, and every one of them was affected by the loss. Many of them had seen the accident or heard how the canopy on the A-24 Douglas Dauntless failed to release, trapping Mabel inside as the cockpit burned. The wreckage was in a hard-to-reach area off a runway, and removing the charred pieces of metal took time.

  The remains of the crash were visible from the air to any plane coming in on that runway—a stark reminder of the dangers they faced every time they went up.

  The A-24s the WASPs were flying were war-weary and difficult to keep in flying shape. Yet they were expected to go up every day, multiple times, to tow targets for green soldiers just learning to shoot. A WASP would pilot the plane while an enlisted man would roll out a muslin sleeve on a cable for antiaircraft gunnery practice.

  Jessie heard many stories of planes being hit by soldiers with lousy aim. It was one of the reasons she volunteered for this assignment. Without Claudia, she had nothing to live for. If she was killed while doing her patriotic duty to help her country in a time of war, well, at least her life will have had some meaning. She no longer feared death, which set her apart from all of her WASP sisters. She took every dangerous assignment, including dive-bombing toward the guns to simulate a battle, and perilous nighttime flights to train soldiers in spotting planes with searchlights from the ground. The beam could blind the pilot temporarily, leaving her to fly only by instrument. That was fine by Jessie.

  Most of the other WASPs avoided her, convinced that she had a death wish and concerned that the rest of them would be expected to exhibit nerves of steel as well. It wasn’t that Jessie took chances in the air, for she continued to be an excellent pilot with a reputation for putting safety first. It was that she appeared to have ice water in her veins and to relish flying into harm’s way.

  Jessie was assigned to one of the barracks on the base set aside for the WASPs. In a way, she was grateful for the din of communal living—it made it harder for her to be alone with her thoughts. She had no desire to make friends and no inclination to chat or take part in any social activities. As a result, she didn’t mind in the least that the other girls seemed to give her a wide berth.

  At night, she lay in her bed in her small, single room, her mind fixated on Claudia. No matter how angry Jessie was about the betrayal, she could no more stop loving Claudia than she could stop breathing. Every night spent alone was agony. Many nights she cried herself to sleep. She longed to feel Claudia’s body against hers, to kiss her lips, to hold her and share the highlights of their days. Jessie often found herself wondering what Claudia would say about something that happened or what funny comment she would make about the way one of the girls wore her hair.

  Where was she? Had she gone home to her parents? What had she told them? Was she with Matt? That thought made Jessie nauseous. But Matt was in Germany by now, far away flying bombing runs and trying to kill Nazis.

  A couple of weeks after Jessie’s arrival, another accident in a Douglas Dauntless killed Betty Taylor Wood. Jackie Cochran, herself, came to investigate the crash. She didn’t stay long, and didn’t make public her findings. She didn’t have to. All the girls on the base were talking about it.

  “Jessie? Your name is Jessie, right?” One of the girls Jessie recognized from the flight line was standing in front of her table in the mess, tray in hand. “Can I sit down?”

  “It’s a free country. Sure.” Jessie shoveled another forkful of eggs into her mouth.

  “I’m Isabel. Just got here a couple of
days ago.”

  Jessie nodded.

  “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what?”

  “They’re saying it was sabotage. Sugar in the gas tank. Can you believe it?”

  Jessie made a noncommittal sound.

  “I mean, I know some of the guys are really hostile toward us. They resent that they’ve got to go overseas and we don’t.”

  “Or that we can fly planes better than they can,” Jessie said.

  “Right. But to deliberately cause someone’s death, that’s sick.”

  “Gotta agree with you there.”

  “Aren’t you scared to go up?”

  Jessie looked at this young, earnest girl and weighed what to say. “Honestly? No. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have a healthy concern for the fitness of the planes we’re flying. I do.”

  Isabel played with her napkin, then gave Jessie a shy look. “The other girls, they say you’re crazy. That you must have a death wish or something.”

  Jessie laughed. She had to give the girl credit for forthrightness. “Maybe they’re right.”

  “You don’t look insane to me. You look brave and competent and fearless.”

  “Is that so?”

  Isabel nodded.

  “Well, Isabel. I’m not someone to be admired, so if I were you, I’d throw my lot in with the other girls.”

  “They also say you’re a real loner. That you’re antisocial.”

  “They’re right.”

  Slowly, hesitantly, Isabel shook her head. “No, they’re not. You’re wounded and grieving. If they knew anything about human nature, they could see that. It’s written all over your face and in the way you carry yourself. I can see that, and I’ve been here less than a week.”