A Song For Lisa

by Clifton La Bree

  Good food and proper medicine were working their magic. Lisa’s eyes reflected the progress she had already made. The dark discolored sections of skin under her eyes had disappeared and the lines about her face had begun to soften and would soon vanish as she continued to gain weight. She wheeled her chair through the women’s wards, talking with them and playing cards. She especially liked the movies being played every evening. It eased her transition from prison camp life to normal existence, but the piano was the biggest factor in her quick response to the care the navy lavished on her. The daily piano recitals were gaining a wide circle of admirers, who flocked to the lounge when the word went out that she was playing.

  Lisa also rolled herself through the men’s ward on the same deck. She was shocked at the severity of their wounds and at the large number of young men, most younger than her, who would carry ugly reminders of combat for the rest of their lives. She thought she would find a gloomy atmosphere in the wards, but to her delight, she discovered that the men were playful and positive instead of morbid and negative. They laughed and kidded each other a lot and encouraged those who were on the brink of giving up. No one was allowed to suffer alone. The way they rallied around their more severely wounded buddies was an inspiration to Lisa and others who witnessed the close bond and positive spirits in the face of massive human suffering. She often played cribbage with the men. It helped all of them pass the time.

  One day after the torpedo disaster, Lisa was wheeling her chair through that portion of the men’s ward near the nurses’ station, where patients in need of intensive care were placed. One of the patients had not moved or talked since they had placed him in the ward. Out of curiosity she checked the clipboard hanging at the foot of the bed and saw the name, “Lt. J. Wright.” She looked closer at the patient’s face to see if it was who she thought it might be. His right leg was suspended slightly off the bed and was wrapped in several layers of sheets. His arm and shoulder were covered with a plaster of Paris cast. It was the same man she remembered. His eyes were closed, and he looked pale and drained. She drew closer to the side of his bed and spoke softly to him.

  “Can you hear me, Lieutenant Wright?” she asked. It was hard to imagine that this was the same soldier who had captured the prison compound and set the women free. She was saddened to see him lying so still and so severely wounded. It didn’t seem fair.

  “Do you hear me, Lieutenant Wright?” she asked again.

  This time he opened his eyes to see who was calling his name. He blinked several times, as if to see her better and still did not recognize her.

  “Yes, I hear you,” he answered with a thick tongue, slurring his words.

  “Don’t you recognize me?”

  “No,” he replied, blinking his eyes again. He still had a terrible headache. “Are you my nurse?”

  “No, do you want her?”

  “Yes,” he struggled to answer.

  “I’ll get her for you,” answered Lisa. She wheeled to the nurse station telling them that Jonathon wanted something.

  “He’s probably got a headache,” commented the nurse on her way to Jonathon’s bed. “He’s in a lot of pain. He may never walk normally again. The doctor said they may have to amputate the leg if it doesn’t respond to medication or if gangrene sets in.”

  “Oh, no,” cried Lisa.

  “Do you know him?” asked the nurse.

  “He was the Ranger who freed our prison compound,” Lisa told her, remembering how Jonathon and his men had given a new life to the compound as soon as they arrived.

  “There was a note attached to his records. He’s being nominated for the Medal of Honor for action behind enemy lines in Manila. That’s where he was wounded. I understand that his men brought him to the coast,” said the nurse.

  “I’m not surprised to learn that about him,” answered Lisa. “He’s a very special person.”

  Doctor Day walked into the nurse station and saw Lisa talking to the duty nurse.

  “Miss Carter,” he announced. “I’m glad that I found you here. Would you please come with me? I want to discuss something with you.”

  “Yes, Doctor Day,” she answered with a tremor in her voice.

  They entered the nurses’ room where the Doctor closed the door behind them and took a seat beside Lisa’s wheelchair.

  “I’ve just come from the pathology laboratory where I read the results of the latest urine test we’ve been conducting,” explained Doctor Day with a serious look on his face. “The most recent test confirms that you are pregnant!”

  Chapter Ten

  A high pitched scream passed Lisa’s lips as she collapsed in her chair. Doctor Day had anticipated such a reaction to the devastating news, and his heart went out to the modest young woman. He was uncertain just how he would react to the information if he had been in her shoes. First, she had to suffer the physical and emotional trauma of being brutally violated by an enemy soldier, and now, she was faced with the prospect of being reminded of the assault every time she looked at the child she was now carrying in her womb. Doctor Day had waited to inform her until he took a second test to confirm what the first one had told him. The tests were conclusive. The Japanese soldier had left her with a child!

  Doctor Day was prepared to let her know that he could legally perform an abortion on her if the pregnancy threatened her health. It was a difficult judgment call. Physically he did not foresee any problem with her having a normal pregnancy and delivery. What bothered him the most was the fact that over a long period of time the spiritual trauma could be destructive to her health and mental stability unless it was handled in a very positive way. If the child was going to be an object of hate and potential abuse he thought that it might be the best for all concerned to terminate the pregnancy, the sooner the better.

  Lisa began to stir and picked up her head off the arm of the wheelchair. Doctor Day called a nurse to help him transfer her to a cot. He took her pulse. It was racing wildly. She opened her eyes and looked at the nurse and Doctor Day standing over her. Without a word, she swung her feet over the edge of the cot and reclaimed her chair. There was a calmness about her that defied description.

  “Can I get something for you, Lisa?” asked the nurse.

  “I’m all right thank you. May I speak to the doctor alone, please?”

  “Of course,” answered the nurse leaving the room.

  “I’m sorry to be the messenger of bad news,” confessed the doctor, checking her pulse again. It was close to normal.

  “I’ve been expecting it, Doctor Day. I had a premonition about it. If I asked you to give me an abortion would you do it?”

  “Under the circumstances, yes. If this is a course you want to take, I suggest that it be done as soon as possible. Don’t even think about having it done by some quack in a deserted back alley room. There’s always a risk with any operation. Having it done under the most antiseptic conditions decreases the chances of anything going wrong.”

  “I understand, Doctor Day, and thank you for making that option available to me. I haven’t made up my mind yet, even though I’ve been thinking of little else,” answered Lisa. “What would you do if you were me?”

  “I’m not qualified to make that decision for you, Lisa. We have several chaplains on board, would you like to talk with one?”

  “Yes, I would like that,” she replied.

  “I’ll see that one looks you up shortly. By the way I noticed that you know our new patient, Lieutenant Wright,” said Doctor Day.

  “He and his men liberated the prison,” answered Lisa. “How badly is he hurt?”

  “His right arm and miscellaneous cuts and bruises will most likely heal with time and therapy. His leg is in horrible condition. By the time we reach Pearl Harbor, we’ll know whether to amputate or not. If not, his chances of regaining one hundred percent usage are slim. The explosion could have killed him. He’s a lucky soldier.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Day,” said Lisa, ready to leave the room. “
I’ll give you my decision within a few days. My immediate thought is to ask you to take me into the operating room before anymore time passes. Now that my condition is a fact, I have some reservations about that first impulse. To be honest, my hesitation surprises me.”

  “Whatever you decide, young lady, I’m sure it will be the right thing for you. I admire your courage. I’ll send the chaplain for you.”

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  Lisa slowly wheeled her chair back into the ward. A nurse had just left Jonathon’s side. He was terribly pale. Heavy lines around his eyes and mouth made him look old. Lisa stopped beside him. He opened his eyes and saw her.

  “Are you the one who spoke my name?” he asked in a strained voice as if he had a sore throat.

  “Yes, it was me, Lieutenant. Don’t you recognize me?” Lisa questioned, wheeling closer so that he could see her better.

  “I’m afraid I don’t remember. My head has been mixed up lately…”

  “I’m Lisa Carter, one of the women inmates at the prison on Luzon.”

  “Now I remember,” Jonathon replied, studying her face and noting the different haircut. “The changes are becoming to you, Lisa Carter. What a coincidence that we should meet again under such different circumstances….” Jonathon’s voice became weaker and weaker, and he closed his eyes.

  “Rest well, Lieutenant.”

  A Baptist minister wearing a naval chaplain uniform intercepted her in the hallway as she left the men’s ward.

  “Excuse me. I’m Reverend Matthews. Are you, Miss Lisa Carter?”

  “Yes.”

  The Baptist chaplain was a man in his late forties with gray hair around his temples. He was tall and thin with big brown eyes. There was an air of serenity about him that Lisa felt immediately.

  “Doctor Day suggested that I get in touch with you. Why don’t we go to the chaplain’s office near the chapel on this deck?”

  “That will be fine with me,” answered Lisa nervously.

  “Your prison internment must have been a terrifying ordeal for you. It took great courage and a strong will to survive it for three years. I’ll pray that you get well soon and return to your loved ones as quickly as the navy can get you home. Are your legs injured Miss Carter?” asked Reverend Matthews looking at the wheelchair.

  “No, I had a severe malaria attack and Doctor Day insisted that I use the chair until I’ve regained my strength. Do you know why Doctor Day asked you to see me?”

  “Yes I do. What a terrible dilemma you face. I pray that God can give you guidance to make the right decision and the strength to live with the one you will choose. Human life is a gift from God.”

  “Are you trying to say that God sanctioned the way I became pregnant?” Lisa asked defensively.

  “Not at all, Miss Carter. I simply wanted to say that life is sacred and that God loves all of his children.”

  “Even the deranged Jap that raped me?”

  “Even him, as hard as it is to accept.”

  “If He’s a benevolent God, then why did he allow such an act to take place?” she cried out in desperation.

  “I can’t give you an answer that will make sense to you, Miss Carter, or give you the solace you deserve. We humans don’t have all the answers. However, God has promised us that He will never give us any burden too heavy to bear without granting us the strength to carry the load.”

  “If your wife was raped by the same man who raped me, would you agree for her to have an abortion?” Lisa asked.

  “You ask that question in anger and with justification. As a man, I’d probably want an abortion to end the pregnancy. As a man of God, I know that all life is sacred, even newly conceived infants, and man does not have the power to determine who lives and who dies.”

  “You can’t answer it for me can you, Reverend?”

  “Not the answer you’re looking for, my child. I understand your pain and anguish. Please pray with me,” pleaded Reverend Matthews, taking her hands in his. “I believe that God has tested you enough and will help you find a solution to the dilemma.”

  He kneeled beside her on the floor and in a gentle voice asked God to grant Lisa peace of mind and strength to make the right decision and the resolve to live with that choice. Lisa left the chaplain’s office filled with mixed emotions. She was hoping for a clear plan of action, and ended up with more questions and indecision than ever. She believed in Jesus Christ and accepted Him as her Savior, the same as her parents. The sacredness of life was a concept that she had always accepted; however, she questioned that sacredness when life was created by a barbarous act against a woman’s will. It was not enough to admit that life was sacred. Where was the justice and restitution for such an act? The commandant had received quick and just consequences from Lieutenant Wright’s hand. The other inmates had administered the ultimate verdict. Justice had been carried out, but it was not enough for her… She wanted revenge and it was not available to her!

  Lisa wheeled to her bed in the ward. How nice it was to climb into a clean bed with white sheets again. She felt exhausted. Much had taken place and she needed some quiet time to reflect on what she was going to do. Jeff weighed heavily on her mind, wondering what he would think about her bringing another man’s child to their relationship and future marriage. She understood what a staggering fact that would present to any man who had been fighting the Japanese.

  June saw the troubled look on Lisa’s face. “Are you all right, Lisa?” she asked.

  “That all depends, June.”

  “What do you mean? You look different! Has anything happened to you?”

  “Yes, I’m pregnant,” Lisa snapped back. “The pig got me pregnant, that’s what’s wrong.”

  “Oh, my dear girl,” cried June.7 “I never thought about that possibility.”

  “Well, the doctor has confirmed it. If you were me, what would you do, June?” Lisa asked defensively.

  “That’s not fair, Lisa,” responded June, pulling a chair next to the bed. “If I were you, I’d probably be more despondent than you appear and I’d be seriously considering ending the pregnancy. I understand it’s much easier the first month. I visualize a lifetime of trying to justify a son or daughter with Japanese ancestry, knowing that your generation has had thousands of young men and women killed and maimed by the Japanese in this war that is not over yet. Believe me Lisa, a generation of people are going to hate the Japanese for the war they started and the Americans they’ve killed. They won’t want anything to do with the enemy. Have you given any consideration that your child would grow up in an atmosphere of hatred and distrust?”

  “You present a valid and accurate point of view. Sure, I’ve thought about those things and a whole lot more,” answered Lisa with a sigh. “I keep asking myself why it had to happen to me.”

  “Of course you do. I’d think the same things. The answer to that question is found in our faith. If you are selected to carry this to fruition, then God must feel that you have the courage and will to do so. Perhaps He has more faith in you than you do yourself.”

  “The chaplain told me the same thing,” Lisa told her, closing her eyes. “By the way, Lieutenant Wright has been wounded and is in the ward on this deck.”

  “I have not heard that,” replied June. “I must visit him and see that the girls do the same. He seemed so formidable and invincible.”

  “He’s looking quite the opposite right now. I’m tired, June,” Lisa said, closing her eyes.

  “Of course, Lisa. Rest well, my dear.”

  The next day, Jonathon woke up listening to beautiful music that filled his ears. He looked around and saw no radio nearby and rang for the nurse.

  “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” asked a nurse.

  “Am I hearing things, or is that music that I hear, Ensign?”

  “It’s coming from the recreation lounge down the hallway. It’s beautiful piano playing isn’t it? Would you like to be wheeled down there so that you can see what’s going on?”<
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  “That would be swell, Ensign, but I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

  “It’s no problem, Lieutenant. I’ll get an orderly and we can navigate your bed down the hallway. All of your intravenous tubes are attached to the bed so that it can be moved. Hang on a second.”

  A few minutes later, Jonathon was wheeled into the recreation room. The nurse turned his bed so that he could see Lisa playing the piano.

  “Thank you, Ensign. She plays very well doesn’t she?”

  “She has attracted a large audience of listeners whenever she comes to the rec hall. It’s so nice to hear beautiful music fill the wards. The lady certainly has a talent for interpreting the pieces she plays. If I had the time I’d stay and enjoy it with you, Lieutenant. When you’re ready to return to the ward, have someone call us. It's nice to see you alert this morning.”

  Lisa still played with amazing dexterity. She had been afraid that it had been lost during the three long years of absence from a piano. She was filled with joy to discover that her heart and fingers could still be in synchronization with each other, interpreting the music as she perceived it. There was a powerful softness and gentleness to the music as it filled the hall with graceful harmony. She had not lost the ability to transmit the images and moods reflected in the pieces she selected. She had a passion for the piano classics of the masters such as Chopin, Rachmaninoff, and Beethoven. Her audience in the recreation room were young adults and she chose pieces they would be more familiar with: Una Paloma Blanca, September Song, The Twelfth of Never, Red Sails in the Sunset and her all time favorite, Clair de Lune. She even played some boogie-woogie, which drew claps and whistles from the crowd.

  For almost an hour Lisa played non-stop, without the benefit of sheet music, while sitting in her wheelchair with a pillow for proper height. Jonathon watched her every move and marveled at the intensity of her playing. She succeeded in transmitting the feelings and emotions the composers wanted to evoke. It was a wonderful musical experience that elevated their thoughts and hearts from the every-day commonplace to the sublime.