Tears trickle down Kim's cheeks as she sits next to Sharon. "I haven't ever shown anyone that photo of my parents except for Jim. I don't talk about my parents. I ... I don't want people to feel sorry for me."
"Why did you decide to show it to me now?"
Kim wipes away the tears with her hands. "I wanted you to understand why Jim is so important to me – no matter what he does. He is the only one I have. I mean, I've always taken care of my sister, she's never really helped me. Jim is the only person who takes care of me, who truly loves me for me. I have to understand his anger, why he's so ... suspicious of me having ... sex with someone else."
Say nothing, Sharon tells herself. Jim, as Kim has just pointed out, is all she has. Sharon has no right to say that Jim's obsessive behavior is abnormal. Sharon says, "What can I do to help?"
Kim shakes her head. "He'll calm down. Maybe I shouldn't go with you to the pool."
"It's so hot!"
"Right now I don't want to do anything that will upset him."
Sharon stands up. "Let's go use the phone at my apartment. I want to call Wendy and Donna and see if they’ll meet us at the bowling alley. It should be air conditioned and there’s safety in numbers."
Kim stands up too. “Do you still need the sugar?” she says.
**
An hour later all four of them place their rented bowling balls in the ball holder in their lane as Donna says, "I have some good news."
Oh, oh. Is Donna going to tell the others about her husband's Vietnam exemption? "What is it?" Sharon asks.
"I'm pregnant."
"How wonderful! Terrific!" Kim and Wendy say.
Sharon hesitates. Donna's awfully good at coming out with shocking statements. Yet there's no comparing the announcement of the death of her first husband with the announcement of being pregnant by her second husband.
"That's so exciting!" Sharon says. "When are you due?"
"January."
"What does Jerry think?" Kim asks.
"He's pleased."
Wendy hugs Donna. "I'm so happy for you. Have you thought about names yet?"
Is that pain in Donna's eyes? Is she thinking of her first husband?
"No, we haven't," Donna says.
Sharon says, “Who wants to bowl first?”
Donna goes first, followed by Kim, Wendy and Sharon. Kim is a good bowler, and Wendy and Donna are pretty good too. Sharon is lousy, although that’s to be expected. She’s only bowled perhaps three other times in her life.
They finish a game and decide to bowl another one. Donna heads towards the restrooms, and Wendy and Kim follow her. Sharon walks towards the rental counter to buy a Coke.
The tap on her shoulder spins her around. It’s Mark Williamson, again.
“Are you following me?” she says.
“Hey, there’re only so many places to go on this post when you’re killing time. When the sun gets too hot at the pool, this is a good place to hang out.”
Mark waves his hand in the direction of the restrooms as Sharon hands money to the clerk.
“You’ve brought reinforcements today. Do you need that much protection from me?”
Sharon looks at Mark. Instead of the man in front of her now she sees the boy to whom she once said good-bye.
“Sharon,” he says, then hesitates.
Out of the corner of her eye she spots the other women exiting the restrooms. She has to get away from Mark before Kim spots him.
“I have to go,” she says, and flees back to the bowling lane.
KIM – VII – June 28
Senate rejects, 54-36, Senator Robert Dole's proposal to bar legislative curbs on president's war-making authority in Cambodia as long as there are U.S. POWs held there ... June 3, 1970
“Remember, a gentleman calls on all adult members of a household, but a lady never calls on a man, so, she is calling only on the female members of the family.” Mrs. Lieutenant booklet
"Hurry up, we're going to be late," Jim yells as Kim packs their picnic food into the grocery bag.
Pain stabs above her left eye – his voice still echoes his anger from the pool four days ago.
She doesn't recall the drive back to her apartment from the club or whether she said anything to Sharon. She only remembers standing in the living room reliving those horrible seconds.
What did that man Wayne say about Jim? "Good thing your husband didn't have a gun with him."
The gun.
She had run into the bedroom and yanked open the drawer. It crashed onto the floor, tipping the unsteady night table and sending the photo frame skittering over the edge. The glass shattered when the frame hit the floor.
She grabbed the gun, looked around. What should she do? Where should she hide it?
He'd check. He did every night. Even if he didn't go for it the moment he got home, he'd know soon enough she'd done something with it.
Take the bullets out. That's it! If he checked, the gun would be there. If he squeezed the trigger ...
She stared at the gun, seeing in her mind’s eye a man, surely her father, sitting at a kitchen table cleaning a gun. He holds it out to her, saying she can never touch it without him, it can kill her. "Guns can be darn dangerous," he says. "Never treat 'em lightly."
A gun hadn't killed her father – a car had. Yet she believed her father's words. A gun could kill her. She took the bullets out.
She hadn't been so anxious, so fearful that something terrible was going to happen, since ... yes, since that night she and her sister waited – and waited and waited.
Headlights appeared in the living room window. Then the car door slammed, the apartment door clicked open.
Jim threw his army gear on the floor and walked towards her.
Seated at the table, she flinched.
"Thought you'd be asleep. Had a busy day, didn't you?" he said.
"I always wait up for you."
He was inches from her. "Not because you don't trust me. You can always trust me. It's you who can't be trusted."
How could he think this? Kim’s hands, already clasped together, squeezed tighter.
"Jim, ask Sharon. Just ask Sharon what really happened."
"It's a little late to go calling. And besides, she'll stick up for you."
He strode towards the bedroom. Pain jabbed above her eyes; she made herself follow him.
He jerked open the replaced drawer. Rainbow colors blurred her vision.
He lifted the gun out of the drawer, twisted towards her ...
Then he grabbed a pillow and the blanket off the bed. "I'll sleep on the couch tonight."
In the morning she didn't come out of the bedroom until Sharon knocked on the door.
Then that evening Jim gave her the silent treatment. Even when he returned to their bed, he slept with his back to her. This continued for two more days with all meals eaten in silence.
Now this morning he spoke only to remind her of the AOB class picnic. A classmate had an uncle with a farm nearby. The entire class and their wives had agreed to meet there.
In the car Jim listens to the Beach Boys sing "Sloop John B." Heat pricks her skin, her hair clumps to her forehead. Jim turns down a back road as bleak as the one she and Sharon drove to Louisville. The one on which she wished she'd brought the gun.
The gun. This morning, when Jim brushed his teeth in the bathroom, she checked the night table drawer.
The gun was back. Still no bullets. Hadn't Jim noticed the missing bullets? Or did he notice but not trust himself with a loaded gun?
"Everyone will be talking about going vol indef," Jim says to the windshield. "That's probably the whole purpose of this darn picnic. And I sure as hell don't want to discuss my plans with a bunch of men I hardly know."
Kim doesn’t risk answering him. Instead she fans herself with a paper napkin from the picnic supplies. Fans were all they had in their first apartment, not even an unreliable air conditioner like here at Ft. Knox. They'd been lucky to get the apartment on campu
s. Jim had known someone who'd known someone and their name miraculously moved to the top of the list of married housing. She and Jim set up housekeeping there right after their small church wedding – a brief ceremony followed by cake and a bottle of inexpensive champagne for the toasts. Jim's parents weren't going to pay for anything more elaborate and she had no one on her side to even offer.
Ahead cars line both sides of the dirt road. Jim wedges their car in between a Corvair and a Chevy.
Wrinkles crumple her pink cotton dress thanks to the heat and the pressure of the bag on her lap. She smooths the wrinkles with one hand while wrapping her other arm around the picnic food.
The bag escapes her grasp and slumps to the ground.
Red strawberries spill out – the pool of blood widening on the store's checkout counter. She freezes.
Jim stuffs the strawberries back into the bag and thrusts the bag into her arms. Her breath comes in short gasps.
Several yards away long metal tables have been set up under oak trees whose abundant leaves offer shade. The scent of honeysuckle beckons from shrubs edging the tables.
As a young child Kim loved honeysuckle with its bright scarlet trumpet-shaped flowers. She and her sister would pluck and twist the flowering vines into crowns. They imagined themselves modern-day Cinderellas whose princes had carried them off to beautiful castles set high atop enchanted mountains where servants fulfilled their every wish – and where they never had to iron or clean house for anyone else ever again.
Then one day honeysuckle betrays Kim. Lulled into such wonderful visions, she doesn't see the Kruger boy sneaking up on the other side of the shrubs. He reaches his arms through the shrubs and pulls her panties down around her ankles.
Red splotches cover her panties! This surprises even the Kruger boy, who races off screaming, "Kim made blood! Kim made blood!" Kim pulls up her panties and flees with her sister to their foster home.
The foster mother explains to Kim, "You're not dying. It's natural to start at your age."
Since then the bright red honeysuckle flowers always remind her of the red splotches. One whiff of the sweet blooms floods her with shame.
Robert waves from where he stands with the other men around a keg of beer, and Jim joins Robert. Kim holds the bag with both arms and reaches the tables where the women watch over the food.
"What are the men talking about?" Kim asks Sharon.
Sharon shrugs. "Whether to go vol indef."
Jim's probably boiling right now, annoyed and angry about all the talking. "I joined ROTC to do my part," he said when he first told her about his commitment. "A Southerner has a military tradition to uphold." She had been tearful, afraid of everything connected with the army. "It's only for two years," he said, taking her into his arms. "We'll be entitled to officer housing, and, with careful planning, we should be able to even save a little money."
Kim moves towards her husband. Perhaps she can distract him, prevent him from getting upset about the men's discussion.
She has almost reached Jim when she hears Nelson say: "I'm thinking of going RA."
Regular Army!
"It's a good opportunity for me. A guaranteed job and built-in career advancement."
Kim glances at Jim. His face dark, as if he can't believe what he's heard, as if someone has told him a whopper.
"Maybe the army doesn't want you," Jim says. "The officer corps is mainly Southern whites. We're the ones who've got a tradition to uphold. You ... blacks sure don't."
Kim's stomach flip flops. How could Jim be so cruel?
Before Nelson can answer, Robert slings an arm around him.
"I'd take this guy any time,” Robert says to Jim. “He's one of the best in our class."
Jerry and some of the others nod.
Jim strides away from the men; he hasn't seen her. She turns to follow him.
Wendy stands a couple of feet away, her hands clenched at her sides, her body as stiff as a shirt left out to dry too long. She has heard what Jim said!
Poor Wendy! First Nelson's announcement about going Regular Army – did she even know about that? – then Jim's terrible words.
Kim's legs carry her to Wendy. "Come taste my corn bread,” Kim says. “It's the Southern dish I make best."
Wendy stares at her. Then she blinks. "I'd like that."
Kim doesn't take Wendy's arm – she’s not comfortable doing that. Instead she smiles encouragement, leading the way over to the picnic things. She hands Wendy a piece of corn bread.
Sharon stops chatting with Donna to ask Kim, "Did you eavesdrop? I’m dying to know what they're saying."
Dying. Isn't that what they are all considering? Whether going voluntary indefinite will reduce the men’s chances of dying in Vietnam?
BOOK 3 – COMMITMENT
WENDY– V – June 28
In St. Louis an estimated 40,000 workers and veterans groups members march in support of administration's Vietnam policies ... June 7, 1970
“Cards for first and second lieutenants are the same, ‘Lieutenant’ being correct for both of them.” Mrs. Lieutenant booklet
"Honey, I'm sorry to ask you not to do the play. You do see my point, don't you?" Nelson says as they undress for bed in the trailer that night after the picnic. "It could be held against me that you're in a play poking fun at the army."
"Nelson, this is the American army. It's not the South. Things are different here."
He slides into bed. "This is important to me – even if I don't go Regular Army."
Regular Army! She presses her fingers against her chest. A week from tomorrow the men must declare their intentions. And ever since the picnic earlier today she has wanted to get up the courage to ask Nelson about what he said to the other men. Perhaps she heard him wrong.
Now he has said it to her.
She faces him, her nipples pushing out the thin cotton of her nightgown. "Nelson, you said if I was against it, you wouldn't consider going Regular Army."
Nelson wraps his arms around her, pressing his nude body into hers. "Sugar, I'm just trying to do what's best for us." His lips clamp onto hers, his tongue probing for an opening.
He seals shut her mouth with a passionate kiss, ending the discussion before it’s begun.
**
The next morning Wendy parks her car in front of Kim's apartment. Her hands twitch as she drops the car keys into her purse. She has the prepared speech as memorized as her lines for the play – the lines she won’t be reciting. Will the women understand?
She has to trust her husband – she owes it to her parents. The evening of her parents' visit to the trailer her mama and papa said good-bye after the fried chicken dinner. Her papa hugged her, then whispered in her ear, "We will never, ever understand why our son was taken from us. We don't want to lose another son. Take care of Nelson."
Kim opens the door to Wendy's knock. "Sharon and Donna are already here."
Wendy isn't surprised. She dawdled, straightening things in the small trailer, things that didn't need straightening because there's no room to put anything except back in its place.
"We have a lot to practice." Sharon says.
Wendy stays in the center of the room. She inhales. "I ... I can't."
"You can't practice today?" Sharon asks. "Do you have a doctor's appointment or something?"
"I can't ... be in the play at all." There, she's said it.
"What do you mean?" Donna asks.
Wendy swivels her wedding ring around her finger. What did she and Nelson rehearse?
She says, "Nelson is afraid he can get in trouble for it."
The others stare.
"He thinks ... Nelson's thinking about going Regular Army." Their expressions don't change. Maybe Kim told them what she overheard. "He has to be accepted into the program so he's been trying to do really well here. Because he's black, I mean we're black, this play could be held against him. It makes fun of the army."
"The army in 1776," Sharon says.
"It's really the army now."
Wendy sinks into the armchair. "I don't know how to explain this. I understood when Nelson explained it to me. I just can't seem to explain it now."
Donna pats her hand. "I understand. Now that I'm married to an Anglo I don't feel so vulnerable. When I was growing up, the only Puerto Rican kid in my classes at the army post schools, I felt I had to do everything right. If I missed the volleyball, they would think Puerto Rican kids weren't good at sports. If I couldn't do well on a spelling test, they would think all Puerto Ricans couldn't speak English."
Donna does understand! "And Nelson feels that if the army gets angry at this play, they won't punish your husbands. They'll use him, the black, as a scapegoat. And he doesn't want this to hurt his time in the army, whether he goes RA or not. He's trying to prove he's as good as the ... whites."
Sharon nods. "Wendy, I'm truly sorry to have put you in this position. We can give up the play and do something about fashion or etiquette or ...."
"I want you to do the play," Wendy says. "It's funny and different and everyone will like it. I just can't be in it."
Sharon looks at Kim and Donna. "What do you think?"
"I want to go on with the play," Donna says. "There will only be women there, no men, and I don't think even the senior women will be upset. If they are, don't army regulations require them to be gracious even when they disapprove?"
Wendy laughs with the others. All those silly rules in “Mrs. Lieutenant” – they could use some in their own favor.
Sharon turns to Kim. "Are you comfortable going on with the play?"
Kim nods.
"We'll go on as planned,” Sharon says. “I'll just change things around so that we can do it with three people."
Wendy stands. "I'm sorry again. And I'll be leaving."
Sharon reaches an arm towards her. "Oh, no. I'm going to make the changes right now. At the luncheon you can be a guest. For now we're going to put you to work as our prompter."
**
When Wendy gets back to the trailer after the rehearsal, she leafs through her copy of “Mrs. Lieutenant,” looking for answers to her present problems.
Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel Page 22