The War Within

by Yolanda Wallace

  After Lois turned and left, Meredith took her time gathering her things. The conversation with Lois had left her shaken. Would Lois go to the brass with her suspicions about Robinson or the baseless ones about her? She thought it best to stay on Lois’s good side. But was keeping her good name reason enough to give in to Lois’s demands? Perhaps not, but saving her career was. She hadn’t come this far to be derailed by something that wasn’t true. If she wanted to move up in the ranks, she needed to play by the rules with no hint of impropriety or scandal. She needed to stick close to George Moser and stay away from Natalie Robinson.

  The situation made her feel dirty. After she took a long shower in the barracks, she slipped on a pair of modest heels and a sleeveless sheath she had picked up in Tokyo, grabbed her overnight bag, and headed to Charlie’s.

  The bar was run by a civilian contractor and was popular with enlisted men and officers alike, though most of the top brass preferred the exclusivity of the officers’ club. Meredith had tried the OC a time or two, but it was too stuffy for her taste. The atmosphere at Charlie’s was much more her speed. The food at Charlie’s was better than the fare served up in the mess hall, even though it cost four times as much as it did back home. But the beer was cold, cheap, and plentiful.

  When she walked in, Meredith spotted Robinson nursing one of those cold brews at the end of the bar. She thought about joining her, but Robinson had made it clear she wanted to be alone so she left her that way.

  She waved to the owner, Charlie Miller, and took a seat at the other end of the bar. Charlie’s wife, U’ilani, who worked as a waitress, ambled up to take her drink order. Charlie weighed probably a buck fifty soaking wet. U’ilani was easily twice his size. No wonder she acted as bouncer and he cowered behind the bar whenever one of the enlisted men had had one too many.

  Charlie was from Texas and U’ilani was from Hawaii. Meredith didn’t know where they’d met or how they had ended up in Vietnam. Both said it was a long story, but neither had offered to unspool the yarn.

  “You look pretty tonight.” U’ilani placed a mug of whatever was on tap in front of her. “You got a hot date?”

  Meredith took a sip of her beer to swallow the bile that rose to her throat each time she thought about her conversation with Lois. “Something like that.”

  She glanced at the other end of the bar, where Robinson was chowing down on a burger and some Texas-sized fries. She was wearing sneakers, jeans, and a short-sleeved red silk blouse. She looked a lot more comfortable than Meredith did. She probably felt that way, too. Meredith’s dress was shorter and more formfitting than she was accustomed to. She had too much skin and too many curves on display. She felt like she was playing dress-up, but she didn’t know who she was dressing up for, George or Lois. She wished she could just be herself. She wished she could be with Robinson.

  Where was she going tonight? What was she planning to do? Who did she intend to spend time with? Meredith wanted answers to all those questions and more.

  She took another sip of her drink. She had been looking forward to going on leave for weeks. The thought of having a few laughs with George and the others had sounded like fun when he first proposed the trip in the mess hall two weeks ago. Now it was beginning to feel more like a chore. One she wasn’t certain she wanted to perform.

  George was probably harmless, but she didn’t want to spend any more time with Lois than she had to. On the transport truck, Lois had exposed herself as a bigot. Meredith didn’t want her to think she espoused her beliefs, but she couldn’t afford to have her think she didn’t.

  Talk about a Catch-22.

  “Would you like some food?” U’ilani asked.

  Meredith tried not to eat more than a few bites during a date in case the guy she was with found her hearty appetite unappealing, but she was too hungry to go without. She pointed at Robinson’s plate. “That looks good. I’ll have what she’s having. Except make mine well done.” Robinson’s burger was so rare it looked like it was still moving.

  “You two keep eating like this and you’ll look like me in a few years,” U’ilani said with a loud belly laugh. The hem of her colorful muumuu swayed back and forth as she walked the length of the bar.

  “You’re beautiful just the way you are, U’ilani,” Robinson said with a grin.

  “Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls.” U’ilani pinned a hibiscus blossom behind Robinson’s ear and chucked her under her chin before she handed the slip of paper containing Meredith’s order to the cook, a young local in a pair of brown pants and a stained white T-shirt. “I need another Number Three, Tran. Burn this one.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Miller,” Tran said in heavily-accented English. He grabbed a thick hamburger patty out of the refrigerator and tossed it on the grill. The resulting sizzle reminded Meredith of home. Of her father’s famous backyard barbecues.

  She didn’t know where U’ilani and Charlie had found Tran, but he was fast and good. Her food was brought out in what felt like record time and it was prepared just the way she liked it.

  “My compliments to the chef,” she said when U’ilani came to check on her midway through her meal.

  “I can’t do that. Compliments would go to his head and he’d start asking for more money. Charlie and I would have to raise the prices to compensate, then you and all your friends would start complaining.”

  “Okay. Forget I said anything.” Meredith swallowed another bite of her two-dollar meal. Back home, she could get a burger at McDonald’s for thirty-nine cents, fries for fifteen. But that was in the real world, and the real world was thousands of miles away. Besides, this was her last weekend in Saigon. Who knew what awaited her in Long Binh? “I hope I get food like this where I’m going.”

  “You should. Tran has a cousin who works in one of the restaurants on post. He’ll take care of you until you come back home where you belong.”

  Saigon was nothing like home, but Meredith would rather be here than anywhere else. She looked around Charlie’s. It was close to 1900 hours and the place was starting to fill. George and the others would probably turn up soon. Robinson deserved to know Lois had it in for her so she could take the necessary precautions. If she wanted to drop a word in Robinson’s ear about the situation, she needed to do it now. She finished her meal, tossed her napkin in her empty plate, and grabbed her mug as she prepared to head to the other end of the bar.

  “Going somewhere?” George asked. He spun her in a circle as a sudden blast of doo-wop erupted from the jukebox. His Hawaiian print shirt was even more colorful than U’ilani’s dress. Blue, yellow, and red birds of paradise flocked over a black background. His tan chinos and brown loafers looked tame in comparison.

  Meredith held up her nearly empty mug. “I was getting a refill.”

  “Here. Let me.” As he took the mug out of her hands, she smelled the competing aromas of cologne, aftershave, and hair pomade. “Same again, Charlie. Times two this time.”

  “You got it.” Charlie poured two drafts and set the frosted mugs on the counter. “Here you go, big spender.”

  George took a seat next to Robinson. “You want one, Nat?” he asked, indicating the beer.

  “No thanks, George. I was just about to head out.”

  Meredith had never heard anyone call Robinson “Nat” before. She tried to imagine herself saying it but couldn’t manage the feat. There was still too much distance between them for her to utilize a name that felt so familiar.

  George spun around on his bar stool. “You’re not coming with us?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Maybe next time, huh?”

  “Maybe.” Robinson drained the rest of her beer.

  “Have one on me before you hit the road,” Meredith said, trying to prolong their encounter.

  “Thanks, but I don’t have the time.” Robinson left a bill on the bar for a tip. “Have fun this weekend. I’ll see you later.”

  Meredith watched her leave, wishing she knew where she was going and
wishing even harder that she could go with her. What did Robinson do when she didn’t have to worry about who might be watching? Meredith longed to find out but doubted she’d ever get the chance.

  “Nat’s a tough nut to crack, but you couldn’t ask for a more loyal friend,” George said.

  Meredith drew herself out of her reverie. “How long have you known each other?”

  “I met her during my first tour. That was—gosh—three years ago.”

  “So you know each other well?”

  “I’m tempted to say yes, but how well do you really get to know someone over here?” George rested his elbows on the bar and gave her the once-over. “You look beautiful, by the way, though I probably should have said so much earlier in the conversation.”

  “Probably.” Meredith felt herself start to relax. She didn’t know what George’s expectations were for the evening, but at least he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get to the point where she had to decide whether the night would end in ignominy or a blaze of glory. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “Me?” He took a sip of his beer and wiped foam off his upper lip with the back of his hand. “There isn’t much to tell. I’m from Wisconsin. Racine, to be exact. I’m the oldest of three kids. My brother’s a sophomore in high school and my sister is beginning her freshman year at the university in Madison. I joined the Army right out of high school because I thought it was my chance to see the world. I never thought I’d get stuck in the same part of it for the foreseeable future.”

  “Have you seen any action?”

  He was quiet for so long Meredith regretted asking the question.

  “Yeah, I’ve spent some time in the bush,” he said at last. “The way things are going, I’m sure I’ll be back there before too long. A buddy of mine said the Vietcong have two hundred miles of tunnels underground. They’re so well-stocked the VC could live in them for months without poking their heads up for air. Someone’s got to roust them out or else we might look up one day and find ourselves surrounded. If we aren’t already.” He took a long drink out of his rapidly emptying mug. “Given a choice, I’d rather stay here and work on cars. It reminds me of being back home, tinkering on my jalopy in my parents’ garage.”

  Meredith remembered how happy he had looked the first time she had seen him, covered in grease and surrounded by spare parts.

  “What kind of car do you have?”

  He smiled at the change in subject. “A 1957 Cadillac Eldorado. I named her Caroline after a girl I used to be sweet on once. The Cadillac company makes the best cars on the road. They look good, they’re dependable, and they never let you down. Caroline’s temperamental because she’s getting on in years, but she’s my baby. Someday, I’m going to have six more just like her. One for each day of the week.”

  “Won’t that make Caroline jealous?”

  “No, because she’s my first. She’s always going to be special.”

  “I assume we’re still talking about the car.”

  George rubbed the back of his neck, which had turned the same shade of red as his cheeks. Meredith found his boyish enthusiasm and gentle ways hopelessly endearing. The night had just begun, but he was already a refreshing change from the grabby guys who asked a few questions to be polite then spent the rest of the night trying to get from first base to home plate as quickly as possible.

  “Enough about me,” he said. “Tell me about you.”

  “What is there to know that I haven’t told you already?”

  Whenever they shared a table for meals—which they’d done a handful of times in the mess hall and two or three times at Charlie’s—he asked her so many questions she felt like she was a defendant on the witness stand and he was the prosecutor trying to prove her guilt.

  “You’ve told me about your parents, your sisters, and practically every person you’ve met in your life, but you haven’t told me anything about the person I want to know about the most: you. Tell me about you, Meredith. Who are you, and how did you trade a spot in the church choir in Omaha, Nebraska, for a bar stool in Vietnam?”

  His question should have been easy, but for some reason, Meredith found it difficult.

  “I could try to paint myself in the best possible light, but that wouldn’t be honest, and I don’t want to lie to you, George.”

  “Uh oh,” he said with what she hoped was mock horror. “Here comes the old brush-off. Should I order something stronger than beer?” He raised his hand as if to beckon U’ilani.

  “Only if you want to.”

  His smile faded and he dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was only making fun.” He looked genuinely contrite. Genuine. The word suited him much more than the garish shirt he must have borrowed from a hoochmate. “Tell me. What were you going to say?”

  “The truth is, I don’t know who I am. I guess I’m what you call a work in progress. I know what I want to be, but I don’t want to be defined solely by a title. Nurse. Wife. Mother. I want to be all those things, but I don’t want any of them to make me stop being Meredith.”

  She felt like she was babbling so she forced herself to stop. Otherwise, her insecurities might send him running for the hills before they made it through their first date.

  “Does that make sense?” she asked, hoping he could tie her jumbled thoughts together without having to exert too much mental effort.

  “It makes perfect sense. You want to be happy.”

  In one short sentence, he had perfectly summed up what she had been struggling to explain for years.

  “How can something that sounds so simple be so hard to achieve?”

  “Because sometimes other people’s versions of happiness and ours are two very different things. That’s when you have to say, ‘Screw them,’ and live for yourself, not someone else.” She was about to compliment him on his insight when he said, “Nat taught me that.”

  He placed a hand in the small of her back. She didn’t shy away from his touch the way she usually did when someone tried to get close. She felt more comfortable in his company than in any other man’s, but did comfort equate to attraction? Could it lead to love? When she looked at him, she didn’t feel the tingling hands or butterflies in her stomach other women described when they talked about the men they were dating. She wanted to feel the spark of mutual attraction. She wanted to know what it was like to fall in love. Could George Moser show her?

  “Here come the others,” he said with a nod toward the door. “Are you ready?”

  She felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  She looked behind her and saw the rest of the group approaching them. Lois and a burly MP named Steve Johansson led the way. Steve’s neck was wider than both of Meredith’s thighs put together. His biceps were the size of canned hams. Two other couples trailed in his sizeable wake.

  The sense of dread Meredith had felt earlier returned in spades when Lois said chirpily, “You two look cozy. Where’s the nearest hotel room when you need one, huh?”

  Steve squeezed Lois’s butt like it was a loaf of bread he was checking for freshness. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get there soon enough. Just you wait and see.” Lois squealed and slapped his hand, which only made him bolder. He pulled her body close to his and humped her like an animal in heat. “Stick with me and I’ll show you the time of your life.”

  “From what I’ve heard, more like the fastest thirty seconds,” George said under his breath. Meredith covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

  Hector Ortiz, a fellow MP, tried to cool Steve’s jets before they revved out of control. “Save some for later, okay, buddy?”

  “What’s the matter, Ortiz? Are you afraid I’ll make you look small in front of your girl?”

  Hector playfully punched Steve’s meaty shoulder. “I’ve seen what you’re working with, you dumb Swede. There’s no way in hell you could ever make me look small.”

  “Take that back, Ortiz.”

&nb
sp; Steve grabbed Hector and wrapped him in a headlock. Hector’s face quickly turned tomato red after Steve locked his hands together and tightened his hold. Hector struggled to loosen Steve’s grip. Just when Meredith thought he was close to passing out, he finally managed to slip free. He ducked under Steve’s arm and twisted it behind his back in some kind of submission hold. Steve rose up on his tiptoes like he was trying to fly away from the pain.

  “Who’s the big man now, Johansson?” Hector asked, reaching around to slap Steve’s cheek.

  One of the nurses sighed dramatically. “Is it just me or does anyone else find it odd that whenever soldiers get together, all they do is compare the size of their penises? They can be talking about cigars, rifles, or Louisville Sluggers, but the real subject is what’s dangling between their legs.”

  “Take it from me,” another nurse said. “Neither of these guys has much to brag about.”

  Lois fixed Alice Poythress, the last nurse who had spoken, with a hard look. “How would you know?”

  Alice drew herself up to her full 5’2” height. “How do you think?”

  While Steve and Hector threw jabs that were becoming less and less playful, Lois stared at Alice as if she wanted to pull her hair out. Meredith expected a full-blown melee to break out any second.

  Stepping in to play peacemaker, George placed himself between the tiring warriors. Steve and Hector continued to jab at each other, but George easily dodged their blows with quick feints of his head and shoulders. He circled, bobbed, and weaved like a seasoned pro.

  “Keep it up and you guys will have to arrest yourselves for disturbing the peace,” U’ilani said. She slapped the barrel of a baseball bat against her palm to let them know she didn’t intend to let them go on much longer.

  Steve and Hector punched themselves out a few seconds later. Hector shook his arms to alleviate the pain from the buildup of lactic acid in his muscles. Steve’s broad chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. His mouth worked like a fish out of water as he tucked in his shirt, a white Oxford so tight Meredith was surprised it hadn’t burst at the seams during the scuffle.