For the first time, she noticed the men in charge. Zach and Parker. If one of them was responsible for putting Ella up there on the hood, she would be having a word with them. Ella might be happy, but the lion had paws the size of baseball mitts, even though it was clearly still just half grown. Kids sat on the hood, smashed into the seats and balanced on the wheels. Everyone wanted in. The men ushered new kids in to get their chance, but Ella remained firmly planted. Parker turned to Ella and said something, and she shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not leaving,” Violet imagined her saying. Ella had always contained an extra helping of headstrong.
So this must be Roscoe. She had to laugh. Everyone had been expecting to meet a dangerous man. The scratch on Parker’s arm, of course. Aside from a light panting, and the occasional twitch of his tail, Roscoe looked as though he might fall asleep.
With her feet planted in the grass, Violet resigned herself to watching. Ella would cling harder if made to leave. Several of Violet’s students now gathered around her. The girls had taken to giggling and she realized their attention was on Parker, not the lion. Zach spotted her and waved her over.
She smoothed out her hair and stepped forward. “This is about the darnedest thing I’ve ever seen. You boys have any other surprises up your sleeves?”
Zach grinned like a proud father. “Isn’t he grand? Good ol’ Roscoe.”
As far as lions went, he was a grand specimen. Not that she had much to compare him to.
“I have to admit, a lion was about the last thing I expected. When you mentioned Roscoe, I pictured a scrappy man.”
Parker turned and smiled. In the sunlight, his pale eyes stood out against his almond skin. “Hello, Violet.”
“Hello yourself. So, which one of you is the lion tamer?” she asked.
Zach pointed to Parker. “This fella. A handful of us are in charge of Roscoe, but Parker here is the one who got him.”
How one ended up with an African lion in a small town in Hawaii, she couldn’t wait to hear. “Where on earth did you find him?”
“Long story,” Parker said, just as Ella caught sight of her.
“Mama! This is Roscoe!”
“Sweetie, I see. He seems to like you, but be careful,” she said.
Her own mother had always told her to “watch out for snakes, don’t talk to strangers, keep away from beehives.” And then she collapsed after her husband left. Too much fear and not enough living. Violet swore she would be different as a mother, and yet she found herself wanting to shield Ella from all of life’s perils, large and small. Was it so unreasonable to be wary of a lion?
The next thing she knew, Ella reached down and wrapped both of her arms around Roscoe’s neck, burying her face in his sand-colored fur.
Violet grabbed the nearest arm, which happened to be Parker’s, and squeezed. “Ella, get off him!”
“Roscoe is about the most gentle-natured animal you’ll ever meet. He was raised with humans,” Parker said.
“He’s a wild animal. And wild animals are unpredictable,” she said.
“Last time I checked, life was unpredictable. People. Animals. We all are.” The faintest smile brushed his lips. “When was the last time you had any fun?”
How could he possibly know that the last time she’d had fun was...well, quite frankly, she couldn’t remember. A line of heat shot up her neck, and she felt like smacking him.
“This isn’t about me, Sergeant. I just don’t want my daughter’s face bitten off by the lion that never hurt anyone.” Her words made her sound like she was angry at the world. Maybe she was.
Parker remained in place and fingered his dog tag. “I promise, she’s going to be fine.”
Whether he was talking about Ella and Roscoe or Ella in general, she couldn’t be sure. Against better judgment, she swallowed her doubt.
* * *
After school, Violet walked with Ella into town for an ice-cream float. It was their end-of-the-week tradition. Mamane Street bustled with soldiers on their way to the People’s Theater to see Casablanca, or to shoot pool in the saloon down the way. Swarms also spilled in and out of the Honoka’a Club Hotel, loud voices filling the air. Someone had plastered the town with banners advertising the upcoming rodeo. All in all, the war had infused their little town with a new vitality.
As much as Violet hated to admit it, Parker’s question had spread through her like a dust storm. She searched her memory for any occasion of real fun since Herman’s disappearance, and was not surprised to find it empty. Even more troubling was that before that, she was hard-pressed to come up with anything. Life had always been about the school, and then about the war. There had been a few weekend excursions to see the snow on Mauna Kea or to visit the volcano. Defensiveness of her way of life rose up. What did Parker know, anyway?
On the way, they stopped off to say hello to Irene Ferreira, who was dressed in a pink-and-orange-checkered dress with white pointy heels. Nowadays, she dressed for work as if her life depended on it. You never know who you might run into, she always said. When people like Bob Crosby, Bing’s brother, and Joe DiMaggio were rolling through town, you’d best be prepared.
Irene worked the switchboard frantically.
Violet called from the front door, “Just saying hello. We can stop by another time.”
Irene waved them in. After a few moments of plugging and unplugging wires, she turned to them and said, “It sounds like the island-hopping toward Japan is progressing. Our forces are dropping something called napalm that burns away all the foliage. Wait—hang on.” Irene made a few more connections before taking off her headphone. “Don’t say I told you this.” Irene ran her hand across her mouth like a zipper.
“I know how to keep secrets,” Ella said in a way that caused Violet to wonder all over again what kind of knowledge was wound up inside her. Every so often she made a remark like this.
“So tell me something I don’t know,” Irene said to Ella.
“We had a lion at school today.”
Irene looked to be reconciling this. “You don’t say.”
“It’s true. I saw it with my own eyes,” Violet said. “The soldiers brought him along with the tanks and Ducks and artillery. He’s their mascot.”
Ella raised herself up on her tippy toes, like she used to when she got excited, and the words flew out of her mouth. “And guess what? His name is Roscoe and he’s coming for dinner.”
Irene never passed up an invitation, even though technically she hadn’t been invited. “The soldier or the lion?”
“The lion. But the soldiers are coming, too. You would like them. They sing and dance and have stories,” Ella said.
Of course Irene would like them. Every last one of them. And before the night was over, would probably issue a few marriage proposals herself. But Violet was still hung up on the part about a lion at dinner.
“Wait a second, Ella. They didn’t say anything about bringing Roscoe. We can’t have a lion in our house.”
Ella shrank back. “Why not? I asked Parker.”
“Well, Parker doesn’t own the house, does he? We have chickens and cats, and Lord knows what he might do to the place.”
All the pink drained from Ella’s face. “Mama, please?”
The word no was impossible to say.
Chapter Thirteen
Violet
While waiting for the men, Violet found that she half wanted to see the lion again. Her earlier panic had transformed into a prickly feeling of anticipation. An engine sputtered outside. She peeked out the kitchen window and there was Roscoe, leading Parker, Zach and Tommy O’Brien up the steps on a long chain. Before he reached the top step, he had already spotted the chicken coop. For a young lion, one whole chicken might go down like a handful of peanuts.
She had taken more care in dressing this time, and wore a red-and-white-flowered dress wi
th a wide waistband. After a few failed attempts, she managed to pin her hair in a loose bun on top of her head and used a drop of oil to smooth the flyaways. Jean had demanded she borrow a red lipstick that matched her dress perfectly.
“You look delicious, my dear,” Jean said, as she stood back and fanned herself.
The thought of those men seeing her like this caused a palpitation in her chest.
Ella left her perch by the window to greet the soldiers on the lanai. Between Zach’s goofy smile and the delight in Parker’s eyes at seeing Ella, Violet felt any reservations softening around the edges. Maybe Roscoe would be okay tied up to the post out here. Or if worse came to worst, in the jeep.
“Good evening, ladies. We come bearing wild animals,” Parker said, mainly to Ella, who now pressed herself into Violet’s hip.
“Hello again. A little warning about Roscoe would have been nice. I suppose he’s welcome to stay, just not in the house,” she said, her voice sharper than intended.
“Sometimes warnings get in the way,” Parker said.
He seemed determined to rattle her.
Zach cut in. “Roscoe is nothing more than an oversize kitten. I’ll wager he could win over Adolf Hitler or General Yamamoto in a heartbeat.”
Parker leaned closer and Violet smelled the sharp smell of sweat mixed with engine grease. He lowered his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but he’s our secret weapon.”
He winked at Ella, whose eyes about fell out.
A crack of sun lit up the wooden slats on the lanai. Everyone sat. Setsuko and the twins showed up a few minutes later, at the same time as Irene Ferreira. Since their earlier visit, she had piled up the front part of her hair into a large dome on her head, making her look taller than she already was. On the other hand, Setsuko had gone from slim to scant. She felt anxious having Setsuko with the marines, and Setsuko hadn’t wanted to come, but Violet won her over in the end.
“You have to stand your ground. This is your town and you’re no different than Jean or me. They need to see that,” Violet had pressed.
There seemed a blurred line between those who were rational and those who had blanket opinions about the Japanese. And the reverse might have been true. Some marines could make the distinction between an honest and dishonest Japanese American. Others couldn’t. Violet was determined to show them that Setsuko was part of the family.
The twins had seen Roscoe at school earlier from a safe distance, and now they both moved in a little closer to where he sat in the shade of the table. Jean handed out drinks and Violet decided a cold beer sounded refreshing. Something to calm her nerves. Roscoe’s tongue hung out and he looked thirsty, too.
“Might Roscoe need water?” she asked.
“Please,” Parker said.
He followed her into the kitchen. The only thing around large enough for his head to fit into was the mixing bowl she used for her pies. She wondered about African diseases, but rinsed it out anyway and turned on the faucet. The kitchen was sweltering, and had she been alone, she would have rubbed ice on the back of her neck.
“Your daughter is smitten,” he said.
“Plain as day.”
He came around and stood next to her at the sink, the space between them smaller than she would have liked. “Animals are good for the soul. Seems like Ella has already figured that out,” he said.
He was right, of course. “She chooses animals over people every day. Why do you think that is?” Violet concentrated on the water.
“How I see it is that animals don’t have all those annoying thoughts that humans do. They don’t name things. They don’t fret about the future. They’re busy just living,” he said.
Violet glanced up at him. “Sounds like you’ve thought this through.”
She was keenly aware of a tickle of sweat running between her breasts and the buzz of the mosquitoes outside the screen. “Animals are good for the soul” echoed in her mind, and the way he said it with such conviction.
Parker wore a mix of amusement and seriousness on his face. “Like I said, I worked at a zoo. Animals are my business. Ever notice that feeling of peace you get when you’re petting one of your cats?”
She thought about Snowflake, whose purring could make the whole room feel still.
“I think I have.”
“So you know what I mean. And I got to noticing the look on those kids’ faces when they connected with one of our animals.” He paused as if dredging up some old memory and then chuckled. “A few ended up leaving in tears, though. Trust me, you don’t want to upset a gorilla.”
“Suppose I did?”
“I’d say you were in for it. True story. There was a real obnoxious young fella. He kept making faces at the gorillas and grunting sounds. Thought he was real funny. Bobo was never happy about being on display and he let people know it, pounding his chest and making faces and showing his rear end. On this particular day, he decided to go to the bathroom in front of everyone. A big pile of it. Of course, the boy thought this was about the best thing he’d ever seen. Until Bobo picked up his pile and threw it smack-dab in the boy’s face.”
“No!”
When he laughed, a new dimple showed up on one side of his cheek. “I swear on a stack of Bibles.”
“Ella would love that story,” she said.
Half a voice behind her said, “What story?”
She turned, and there was Ella, standing at the swinging door. “A zoo story. I’ll let Parker tell you later. Want to help bring this for Roscoe?” Ella took the bowl.
On the porch, Roscoe stretched across the dusty planks with his spotted stomach exposed. His chest rose and fell and his whiskers twitched in the contented rhythm of dreamland. Everyone had arranged themselves around him, watching him sleep. Ella placed the water bowl quietly next to him.
“So much for water,” Violet said.
“Busy day, with the kids and all,” Zach said.
Irene had strategically positioned herself next to Zach and flashed her teeth. “Where on earth did you get him? I want the whole story,” she said.
Zach turned to Parker, who sat on the top step, rubbing Roscoe’s spots. “You tell ’em.”
All eyes focused on Parker, who didn’t seem to mind. “When I was stationed at Pendleton, our division elected me to find us a mascot. Now, I don’t know if you are familiar with military mascots, but the marines have always had bulldogs. The first one, Private Biggs, even rose in the ranks to be a sergeant major. On my way to look at some bulldog pups, I decided to swing into the zoo for a hello. There was a new litter of lion cubs, wee little things. When the zookeeper told me they only had room for one, I got to thinking.”
Zach chuckled. “You want to watch out when Parker gets thinking. He’s got what you call an overactive imagination. Grandiose ideas.”
Parker just shook his head. “Why get a bulldog when you can have a lion? Or a mule. Army uses mules. Anyway, he sold me the lion cub for twenty-five dollars, said I got a deal because he was the runt. It took a little work convincing Lieutenant Colonel Boyd, but in the end, he let us have him.”
“I’m surprised they let you bring him on the ship,” Violet said.
The boys all laughed. “They didn’t. When our orders came to ship out, Tommy here had the bright idea of putting him in a crate and covering it up in canvas. By some miracle, we got him to Oahu without being caught. But when we arrived, there was no way of getting him past the inspection. They made us put him in quarantine, which is why he only recently got here,” Parker said.
Violet tried to imagine hiding a lion on a ship crammed with soldiers, and was having a hard time. “How did you feed him?”
“Well, it got a little tricky, and each of us lost weight on that trip over. Sharing our meals with Roscoe. It took us about six days to Oahu. When we first left Point Loma, we had no idea where we were going. Some people we
re saying San Francisco, or Tokyo. Scuttlebutt was rampant and Billy Worthington kept telling us there were girls on board. It wasn’t until the second day at sea our unit commanders said Hawaii,” Parker said.
Ella crawled forward from her place on the lauhala mat and buried her hand in Roscoe’s fur. “I’m glad it was Hawaii.”
Parker fixed his eyes on Ella and patted her hand. “Me, too.”
Violet felt a bump in her chest. She looked over at Jean, who was shaking her head in a way that reminded Violet of her own mother, when she knew something Violet had yet to figure out.
Back in the kitchen for napkins, she saw Mrs. Cody peering out at them from her window. Violet waved and Mrs. Cody ducked behind the curtain. Poor woman was always nosing into their business, probably now concerned about all the single men and women under the same roof and what kind of inappropriate things might be going on. Meanwhile, her own husband was probably hitting the bars about now. Violet could hardly blame him.
Just then, she heard boots pounding up the steps. Only one person made that kind of noise. Luther. She hadn’t invited him and now felt sorry. She rushed out. Jean was already making introductions.
He had puffed himself up an extra inch, if that was possible. “Pleasure to meet you boys. I served in the Great War. You need any words of advice, don’t hesitate to call on me. But you’re up against an entirely different breed,” he said.
Violet hated when people talked like that in front of Setsuko, but Setsuko didn’t flinch. She hoped it wasn’t taken personally. Which was an empty hope, of course. Luther had never been one for sensitivity and said whatever came to his mind.
“You’re welcome to join us,” she said.
“Thank you kindly, but I have a roast in the oven. I just have a couple of questions on your pie stand,” he said.
Luther gave Roscoe a wide berth. “Mr. Nakata sees that thing here, he’s likely to flip.”
“Official business, sir,” Parker said, grinning.
“Well, my business is with the lady, so I’ll steal her off for a moment if you don’t mind. Violet?” Luther said, nodding to the living room.
Island of Sweet Pies and Soldiers Page 8