Natsuo’s voice was solemn. “I miss breakfast from the student union, the ham and eggs, bacon, sausage, coffee.” He folded his hands and placed them on his desk. “So many breakfasts and lunches spent together. Hamburgers and fries were my favorite.” He paused as if searching for words.
“I remember buying you your first chocolate malt.” Dan’s voice was low, guarded.
“Yes. Now we find ourselves on opposite sides of this desk and this war.” Natsuo lowered his head, and when he lifted it again, his eyes were red.
“You are my enemy, and I must treat you as such.” His voice was raspy. He stood and paced. “You think the place I have put you is harsh. But you are safe.” Natsuo leaned forward, pressing his hands onto his desk. “My comrades are angry. Many have lost their wives and children. Prisoners are slaughtered every day for the smallest offense. Do you understand?”
Dan nodded.
Natsuo returned to his chair. “I just wanted to ask you, is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?”
Dan bowed his head, and he couldn’t control the shaking of his shoulders. “A Bible. In English. And medicine for Benjamin? I don’t think he’s doing too well.”
Natsuo steepled his fingers and placed them to his lips. “Your request does not surprise me. Always thinking of the needs of a friend first. You will have as asked.”
“Thank you … Natty.”
Natsuo walked to the door and signaled to the waiting Yashimo to take Dan away.
The kitchen bustled with activity. Children ran in and out, snatching cookies that cooled on the counter. Sam’s three sisters were busy shooing the children away and setting up long tables that had been butted up against one another.
After introducing herself to Sam’s mother, Rose grabbed up a large pile of silverware and started setting it out on the white tablecloth.
Libby noticed the scents of cinnamon and cooked turkey as she was squished into Glenda’s warm embrace.
“I’m Glenda. And it’s so wonderful to meet you.”
Glenda’s plump hands threw an apron over Libby’s head and set her to work mashing potatoes.
“Sam has said so many things about the wonderful lady pilot.”
“He has?” Libby pushed the masher up and down, watching the steam rise off the hot spuds.
Glenda’s smile faded, and she shook her head. “Honey, you’re being too gentle. Like this.” She took the potato masher from Libby’s hands and vigorously plunged it into the boiled potatoes. “You have to be rough with them or they won’t turn out fluffy.”
Libby took the masher back and plunged it up and down with a vengeance.
Glenda’s round face smiled approval; then she continued cutting corn from the cobs. “I’m sorry to hear about your fiancé. Sam said you lost him in the war.”
Libby felt the masher slip from her grasp, clattering to the floor. Glenda continued her steady stream of chatter, never noticing Libby’s stunned expression.
“What were the odds of Sam’s being there twice when you needed a ride? I don’t believe in coincidences. I told him it could be the Good Lord’s way of putting you two together. Since you didn’t get the hint the first time, He gave you a second.”
With shaking hands, Libby picked up the masher and rinsed it off at the sink.
“Sam warned me not to say anything to you,” Glenda said, shaking her head. “But I’ve been praying for the perfect wife for my son. It’s probably not my place to say, but I saw the look on your face when you two first arrived. I thought maybe you felt the same about my Sam.”
Libby felt the color rush to her cheeks, then mashed harder, tightening her jaw.
Glenda turned to Libby and frowned. “Oh, dear, it looks like you’re getting more potatoes on the counter than in the bowl.” She took the masher away again, cocking one eyebrow. “Honey, why don’t you just go find Sam and see if he needs any help with the kids?”
Libby forced a smile onto her face. “Sounds good.”
She let the screen door slam behind her and found Sam under the cottonwood tree. She didn’t stop, didn’t talk to anyone until she reached him.
He waved, but his smile disappeared as she grew closer.
“How could you do this to me? Tell your mother that I ‘lost’ my fiancé. There’s no evidence that Dan’s dead. No proof, don’t you understand that?” Libby placed her hands on her hips and peered down at him. “I thought I’d made it clear that I can offer you no more than friendship. And … and although I like you, I really do, I just can’t give up on Dan. I made a promise.” Libby turned and hurried across the yard, desperate to find a place to be alone.
“Libby, please. Wait.” Sam jumped up from the ground, and she could hear his footsteps quickening behind her.
She paused, feeling her chest heave with pent-up emotion.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything to my mother. You’re right; you haven’t received official word yet. But really, Libby. You need to consider the facts. Libby, please.”
Desperation clouded Sam’s voice.
She turned and looked up into his eyes.
He reached out his hand as if to caress her cheek, then thought better of it and dropped it to his side once more. “I need you to give me another chance. I want to explain.”
Libby placed a hand over her eyes and told herself not to break down. Not here.
“I’ll give you your space, if that’s what you need,” he whispered.
“Yes, that’s what I need. I can’t do this without knowing for sure. I mean, Dan could be out there. And … and how would you feel if you were in his position, wondering if the girl you loved was being wooed by some other guy?”
Sam’s smile faded. “It’s not like I tried to break you guys up. Dan’s dead, Libby. We all know what happened on those islands. We know how the guys were treated, especially the fliers. There’s no reason to feel like a louse when we both know he’s not coming back.”
The words hit Libby like a fist to her gut. She turned and made her way back to Sam’s truck. Her knees felt weak, and she paused, realizing she had nowhere to run. Sam approached and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t be mad. I didn’t expect things to turn out like this. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you.”
She pulled away from his touch. “Dan is not dead. I know—” The words cut off, because the truth was, she didn’t know. Maybe she was just trying to fool herself. Maybe Rose and Sam were right after all.
“Can you take me to the train station, please? I need to get back to the barracks. You can give Rose a ride home later. I don’t want to ruin her Thanksgiving. I’m sure she’ll understand.” Libby climbed into Sam’s truck. Her whole body trembled.
Lord, please. Find a way. Anything. Let me know Dan still lives.
Dan awoke in the night, knowing he needed to pray. His first thoughts were of Libby. The last time he’d heard from her had been a batch of letters he received right before the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Who knew what had been happening in her life since then? Who knew what, exactly, he should pray for?
God knows, Dan realized. He’d read just that morning that God’s Holy Spirit would pray the right words for him even when he didn’t know how.
Things had been better lately. He’d been given extra food, although his arms still looked like flesh stretched over bones. He’d also been given a Bible. And he devoured it, sitting under the window reading by the light from dawn to dusk.
But as Dan lay there he realized that it wasn’t only Libby that God was asking him to pray for. Someone else needed his prayers tonight too.
The world keeps changing, and I’m still trapped inside these same walls. O God, even when I don’t know when dawn is coming for my freedom from this place, please help me to be faithful in the dark.
Dan turned to his side and pulled the dirty coat over him like a blanket. Then he heard the sound of footsteps outside his window, and he cocked his head. He crawled toward the wall with the window, leaning a
gainst it. This wasn’t the first time. The visitor came in the middle of the night, when the other guards on the island were fast asleep. And while his visitor was silent, Dan had carried on one-sided conversations, sharing all kinds of memories with the listener.
“I remember the first day my friend played football with me. We were at the beach, just goofing off, a whole group of us. My friend got the ball, and he was so afraid of the big guys tackling him that he wouldn’t stop running. Even after he passed the goal line, he kept going. I had to run down the beach to get him.”
Dan listened for a moment to the steady breathing.
“And I remember the first dance we went to together. He was so nervous that no one would want to dance with him … Then a pretty blonde came up to him, and he was on the dance floor so fast I had whiplash.” Dan chuckled. “Yeah, those were the days.
“And in a college English class, the same friend and I were once asked to critique a poem by Emily Dickinson.” Dan paused, sure he heard breathing, then continued.
“We picked a certain poem, mainly because it was short.” He sighed, then pulled the coat tight around his shoulders. “The poem was about a Book with a capital B, but my friend and I argued that the poet didn’t necessarily mean the Bible. Dickinson always capitalized nouns she felt were important.
“We analyzed the poem and presented our ideas to the class. I said that the ‘precious Words’ in the poem loosen the reader’s spirit, breathing life into the weary soul. He sees life differently because of the joy inside.”
Dan cleared his throat. “At the time I was sure the poem talked about the journey we take when we open the pages of a book. But if I could talk to my friend again, I would tell him that not just any book can bring such liberty. Though my body is caged, my spirit is loosened by the greatest gift ever given to me—this Bible.” He began to recite the poem aloud.
“He ate and drank the precious Words—
His Spirit grew robust—
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was Dust—”
And as he spoke the poem, the person on the outside of the window joined in. It was no more than a whisper, but Dan’s lips curled in a smile.
“He danced along the dingy Days
And this Bequest of Wings
Was but a Book—What Liberty
A loosened spirit brings—”
Thirty-Seven
END OF WASP TRAINING PLAN
RECOMMEND BY COMMITTEE
The House Civil Service Committee yesterday recommended termination of further recruiting and training of Wasps (Women’s Air Service Pilots) for noncombat civilian duty with the Army Air Forces and urged use instead of “several surpluses of experienced pilot personnel.”
The report, which condemned the program as costly, “experimental,” and unjustified in the light of large untapped polls of trained pilots, recommended continued use only “of Wasps already trained and in training.”
To handle the faster and heavier ships, a woman pilot must receive $20,000 worth of training, the committee said.
Excerpt from the Washington Post, June 6, 1944
It had been seven months since Libby’s conversation with Sam, but his words wouldn’t leave her alone.
Dan’s dead, Libby. We all know what happened on those islands. We know how the guys were treated, especially the fliers.
Libby scanned the blue sky as the engine of the P-51 roared beneath her. She made a right turn, following the winding river she’d mapped, and wished she could steer her thoughts so easily.
Lord, please. Give me the faith I once had. I want to trust You. I want to escape these worries. But it’s been another year and still no word.
Libby spotted the airfield ahead of her and prepared to land.
Once she had signed the plane over to the correct person, Libby hurried out of the office and found a familiar face waiting for her.
“Ginger! It’s been so long. How are you doing?”
Ginger lifted her hand, and Libby noticed a ring.
“I’m engaged to a wonderful man named Quincy. He’s an engineer working on new military planes, and believe it or not, he enjoys my input!”
Libby gave Ginger a quick hug. “Congratulations. Are you still ferrying?”
“Yes. And I know I was the one who put up the stink about flying the small trainers, but in order to stay close to Quin, I’ve taken a gig ferrying Cubs from the factory to a nearby military base. Which leads to my asking a favor.”
“Anything.” Libby plopped her bag to the floor.
“Well, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard, but the House Civil Service Committee is bent on stopping our training. Quin and I worry this is just the first step to cutting the WAFS off completely. Anyway, he pulled some strings, and I have an invitation to a hearing on the subject—if I can get someone to cover for me. I’ve already talked to Nancy, and she can relieve you of your duties for a few days if you can help.”
Libby wrapped an arm around Ginger’s shoulders. “Ferrying Cubs? That should be interesting after flying these metal monsters. Sure, why not? It’ll be good to know someone’s going to speak up for our program.”
Ginger gave Libby a thumbs-up. “Great. The first batch of Cubs needs to be delivered tomorrow morning. Looks like you’ll be staying with me tonight. I’m in a great boardinghouse downtown, and my car’s outside.”
“Sounds great.” Libby grabbed her bags and hoisted them over her shoulder. “That will give us tonight to catch up on old times. Rose has been asking about you. I can’t wait to tell her about your new love.”
Ginger wrapped a fuchsia scarf over her black hair and led Libby to a small gray Buick. “I hope Rose can find someone else as wonderful as Jack,” she said, placing the key in the ignition. “There were many nights we cried on each other’s shoulders.”
“Rose is a trouper; she always pulls through.” Libby brushed the blowing hair back from her face. “And she has fallen in love … with those big bombers. Imagine, that little wisp of a girl flying those big planes. You’ve gotta love it.”
The door opened with a clang, and a flood of white light poured in. Dan waited for the sound of his rice ball dropping to the floor. Waited for the door to slam shut as quickly as it opened. But the light remained. Dan lifted his head, shielding his eyes. It took a few seconds for them to adjust. The thin, short figure of a man came into view.
“Yashimo!” Dan clawed against the wall and pulled himself onto his shaky feet.
“Come closer; I have news for you.” Yashimo placed his palm downward as if he were swatting a fly, and motioned to Dan. “I come to tell you the interpreter worries about American bombers hitting island. He says a work crew is to go to hills. They say to round up ten healthy men. The interpreter say to get you—if you are well enough to work.”
Dan took a step forward, lifting his face to the light and allowing it to cascade over him like a waterfall of warmth and brightness.
He reached for Yashimo’s hand and could clearly see concern in the young soldier’s face.
“Do you think I’m well enough?” Dan tried to study his eyes, but Yashimo quickly lowered his gaze.
Yashimo’s voice lowered, hinting of deep sadness. “I see what they do to the weak. Overseers are cruel. They find more ease to kill than to wait, than to help their workers.”
Dan leaned against the wall, feeling his shoulders quiver. If only God would give me the strength. Please, God. Yet instead of feeling energy surge through his muscles, they screamed at him for even attempting to walk across the small cell.
“What about Benjamin? Is he well enough to go?”
Yashimo shook his head. “No, your friend is sick. Medicine no work. He cannot rise from ground. He not be a good choice.”
“But that can’t be. The medicine was helping. He was fine. Besides.” Dan ran his hand down the cool wall. “His verses. Every hour, he shares them with me. I share others in return.”
Yashimo’s voice was
no more than a whisper. “How do you say, ‘His heart is willing, but body weak.’”
Dan pressed a hand to his temple. “It can’t be. What about the others? Are … are the men on the other sides of Ben leaving?”
Yashimo reached for Dan’s hand and pulled him forward, deeper into the light. Dan breathed in a huge breath of warm, fresh air.
“Yes, they already going to storeroom for boots.”
“Boots.” Dan spoke the word in a whisper. He glanced down at his sore-covered feet. His eyes darted to the corner where his tattered shoes still hid the knife and the photo.
Yashimo finally lifted his eyes to Dan. It was clear from his furrowed eyebrows what he hoped Dan’s answer would be. “And you? What do you like me to tell Natsuo San?”
Dan took three steps when he heard the slightest tapping on the wall. He stopped. “Tell him that I am staying. I can’t leave my friend alone. Who would be here to share the Holy Scriptures with him? To give him hope?” Dan bowed low before Yashimo. “Thank you for bringing me the Word. Thank you for offering light and life. Tell Natsuo San thank you too.”
Dan moved back into his dry corner.
“That is kind of you. Sharing God’s Word with your friend. Benjamin will be grateful.”
Dan tightened his lips into a thin line, realizing Yashimo’s assumption was also true. Yet Dan did not confess that he was actually speaking of another friend—of his night visitor.
The sound of a truck roaring to life flooded the small room, making Dan realize how muted his world had become inside these walls.
Yashimo glanced back over his shoulder. “I must go. But I will pray you can be strong.” He bowed low and stepped from the doorway, allowing the door to slam with a clang. “The Lord I also serve will be with you.”
A deep sense of loss flooded Dan’s chest. He scurried to the door and fell against it. He wanted to call out, to tell Yashimo to wait, that he’d changed his mind. That it would be worth a try—even if his strength failed him, it would be worth at least stepping into fresh air one last time.
Dawn of a Thousand Nights Page 31