Basic Training of the Heart

by Jaycie Morrison

  “What’s the weather like tonight?” Rains asked, tasting her soup.

  Bett didn’t want to admit she had paid absolutely no attention. She tried to think of how it had felt on her walk over. “It’s fine.”

  “Meaning you really don’t know,” Rains teased.

  “Meaning I had other things on my mind, like trying not to spill all of your soup.” Bett couldn’t quite pull off sounding offended.

  “Thank you for that. It’s good. I’m hungrier than I thought I would be.”

  “I took some to Helen, too,” Bett said, before she realized that she was drifting back to talking about the day’s events.

  “Would you prefer to sit?” Rains asked, as if it had suddenly occurred to her that Bett might not be comfortable. “You can use my footlocker if you’d like.”

  Bett strolled across the room and sat. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll ask you about your décor?”

  “I don’t think my décor merits a single question,” Rains countered, “but feel free to look.”

  Bett already had, noticing several stacks of library books, each of which had various bookmarks in them. “You certainly are a reader.”

  “I think you already knew that.”

  “Yes, I suppose I did,” Bett murmured, seeing the Sartre book on the nightstand closest to Rains’s bed, her folded note still in it. She looked around to see nothing on the walls and nothing personal on any of the surfaces. Everything visible was neat and tidy but the room was almost bare. “You’re right. I can’t think of a single question except to wonder why there is almost nothing of you in here.”

  “I’m right here,” Rains said, wiggling her fingers in a wave. “I am not found in some little trinkets.” She finished the brownie and sighed. “I must admit to a weakness for chocolate. Did you know that or was I just lucky in your dessert selection?”

  “I wasn’t aware of any weaknesses on your part, Sergeant.”

  “Hmm. Then you haven’t been paying attention, Private.”

  There’s something different about her tonight, Bett thought. She’s more relaxed, almost playful somehow. Just when I want to talk seriously about her situation, she’s bantering with me. “Sergeant, I’m sorry but I just have to say something.”

  “Just one thing?” Rains asked, her eyes shining with amusement.

  “One thing about today.”

  “Ah, that. Well, you held out longer than I expected you to, actually.”

  Bett stood and crossed her arms. “You are teasing me and I am trying to tell you something honestly.”

  Rains nodded amiably, her tone lightheartedly sympathetic. “I know that can be difficult.”

  “Fine. Then I won’t tell you I thought your speech was amazing, that you said the most beautiful, important words I’ve heard in…forever, maybe. Your vision was so inspiring I—”

  A knock on the door frame cut her off. Rains looked over. The MP was standing on the threshold, trying not to look into the room. She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Sergeant Rains, but your curfew starts in ten minutes. If you are through eating…”

  “It’s okay, Nix. Thank you. My squad leader will be leaving now.” Rains gestured in her direction.

  The MP hesitated as though she wanted to say something else, but turned sharply and left.

  Rains looked to Bett. “You should go, Private. Thank you again for the food.” She took in a long breath. “Perhaps I could repay you by taking you back to Mel’s for dinner sometime before we go our separate ways.” She gestured haltingly. “Just so you can see the progress they’ve made.”

  Bett couldn’t hide her smile. I can’t believe she’s finally asking me out. Then she put it together differently…all the changes in Rains’s behavior. She’s not planning on fighting the charges. She’s giving up. Her smile vanished and her tone became stern. “Oh no, you don’t, Sergeant. You’re not walking away from this. Tell me you’re not going to let that awful Sergeant Moore get the best of you.”

  “Well, she is correct,” Rains said, shrugging. “I am advocating treason, by some measures. I stated that I will not be led by those currently ruling and I favor all people living together in harmony. We are presently at war, as you recall, so those remarks could easily be construed as sedition.”

  “No, no. We all understood what you meant by the forces of death and destruction. Everyone is sick of this war, Sergeant, sick of what it’s cost us all, the toll on the whole world. It’s easy to see that we can’t keep doing this to ourselves. No one with half a brain would ever see another war as a solution to our problems. You were right. Human beings have got to change.”

  Rains tried to explain. “It’s one thing to say that socially or even politically, as civilians in private. But for a sergeant to say it to a platoon suggests some kind of reactionary overthrow of our military system, apparently.”

  Bett said nothing for a moment. Then her tone was sad. “So this must be the weakness you spoke of. You want to have your beliefs, but you’re not willing to fight for them. You try to slip in a little piece of free speech on the sly and then you don’t have the guts to defend it. Yes, I must not have been paying attention to have missed that. You’ll stand up for others because it looks noble but you won’t stand up for yourself because it’s too hard.”

  Rains looked shocked. “Wait just a minute, Private—”

  Bett picked up the tray abruptly. Now she was angry enough to cut Rains off. “No, that’s fine. I’m just glad I found out now, before I agreed to work with Major Ervin. I might as well go to Washington where I’m sure I can find some other spineless weaklings. And you can go work for Mel where you can settle for serving take-out orders instead of giving orders that would show some kind of real leadership.”

  Bett could see Rains was frowning in the one second she dared to look, but nothing more was said as she left the room. On the outside steps of the building, the MP’s words stopped her. “Rains was my sergeant and I was her squad leader about a year ago.”

  Bett was still angry but she tried to respond reasonably. “This must be a difficult situation for you, then.”

  Nix seemed eager to talk. “Yeah, but it’s worse for Sergeant Rains. See, there was a girl in my squad that they said was an antiwar agitator, based on some letters that she wrote and stuff she said around the base. Sergeant went to bat for her, convinced she was being wrongly accused, but then the girl made up some stories that got Rains in trouble, too. Like saying she was in on it. The girl was discharged other-than-honorable and Sergeant Rains barely got to keep her stripes. All that stuff went in her file, and that’s the main reason why she hasn’t been promoted.” Nix looked at Bett. “You ever been to one of those hearings?”

  “No, but I’ve volunteered to testify on Sergeant Rains’s behalf if needed.”

  “Well, watch yourself,” Nix recommended somberly. “Those lawyer-officers are tricky and then some. They’ll have you saying no when you meant yes and then crucify you because the right answer was maybe.” She shook her head. “I don’t envy Sergeant Rains having to go through that again. She probably feels pretty beat up right about now.”

  And I’ve just made that worse, Bett told herself. Setting the tray on the steps, she asked, “Could you give me just two more minutes?” and ran back into the building without waiting for an answer.

  Rains’s door was closed but Bett went in without knocking, leaving the door slightly ajar. The lights were off but she could smell that Rains was burning some more of that herb. From the bed, she heard Rains sniff the air twice and her voice sounded distant. “Bett?”

  Bett moved closer by sound as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. “As usual I said all the wrong things, but I said them for the right reason. I want to know that you’re going to fight this. I want to know that you’ll still be here in two weeks or two months or two years. I want to know that you’re the person I think you are.”

  There was a creak of springs as Rains got up. Her voice closed the distance between them.
“And who are you to ask me this?”

  Bett could only see Rains in silhouette from the light that filtered through the window shades. She didn’t see the outline of Rains’s hat or of her uniform shirt or pants. Bett swallowed hard as she couldn’t help wondering what else Rains wasn’t wearing. She ventured a little closer. “I am the stupidly hot-tempered, spoiled, and stubborn private who has come to realize that she doesn’t want to leave where you are until”—she took another step—“until I…until we—”

  Rains’s fingers were on her cheek—firmly, almost possessively—and Bett closed her eyes. Everything seemed so concentrated in the half darkness; she felt blood pounding through her veins and warmth building around Rains’s hand. Her heart was beating so hard she thought the MP could probably hear it.

  “So you would really choose not to go to Washington? Or New York? Or England?” Rains’s compelling voice sounded very close but Bett couldn’t move.

  “Yes. I’ve decided to stay here.” Bett could feel the heat from Rains’s body. She wanted to lean toward her but was afraid she’d lose her balance.

  “Why?” Rains’s hand moved slowly to Bett’s neck and the warmth followed. “Is it for me?” There was the slightest rustle as Rains shifted her position and then Bett felt the soft cloth of Rains’s undershirt brush against her face. Then she could feel skin and knew her forehead was in the vee of Rain’s T-shirt, between her breasts. She pressed in, feeling as if she’d been given truth serum.

  “Yes,” she answered, without hesitation. “And for me. For us.”

  Rains ran her other hand across Bett’s hair and tilted her face up. Bett couldn’t see her expression, but she could feel the intensity in Rains’s scrutiny. “I am a warrior. I will always fight. You misunderstood about my weakness. It is you.”

  Bett was certain that Rains was going to kiss her then and she parted her lips in anticipation, wanting that and so much more. She wanted to run her fingers through Rains’s uncovered hair, ready to give Rains anything she asked for, but there was a knock on the door frame and Rains jumped as though electrified.

  Nix’s voice came from out in the hall. “Uh, Private? You have to leave, ma’am. I’m sorry, but Sergeant Rains is under curfew.”

  Rains brushed the top of Bett’s head with her cheek. “Go now,” she whispered very softly, “and don’t come to the hearing tomorrow. I’ll need to concentrate and you make that very difficult.”

  Bett didn’t even know when she had put her arms around Rains’s waist but she almost couldn’t turn, not realizing that she had to let go first. “I know you’ll win,” she said back over her shoulder, shuffling almost blindly toward the light from the hall.

  “I already have,” Rains said. Bett closed the door. Nix was waiting in the hallway, eyes fixed out the front door. Bett managed to thank her for the time.

  “Sorry I couldn’t give you any extra.” She glanced at the upstairs floor. “You never know when Moore will come back and there would be hell to pay if she caught you in there.”

  “Sergeant Moore lives here, too?”

  Nix’s eyes shifted and she looked concerned. “Uh, can you forget I said that?”

  “Absolutely, Nix. And thanks again.”

  After reassuring the squad that Sergeant Rains was doing fine, Bett fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning Sergeant Webber led them through their muster and everyone changed into their dress uniforms after breakfast. Bett made the excuse that she was too nervous to be in the hearing but told them to send someone for her in the barracks if she was needed. She spent the time writing another round of letters telling everyone about her decision to remain in Des Moines without adding many details about why, except to her two best friends to whom she only hinted that she had a very good reason for staying on, knowing they would read between the lines.

  “The hearing was a joke, really,” Jo told Bett later. “See, no one had an exact transcript of Rains’s speech, ’cause it was all unplanned. So it only took four or five of us to tell our version of it, contradicting whatever Moore was saying, and you could tell the brass wasn’t interested in pursuing it.”

  “And do you know who our best speaker was, Bett?” Phyllis added. Bett shook her head. “Jo. She did a great job.” Phyllis turned to Jo. “I could tell Sergeant Rains was really proud of you, Jo.”

  Jo’s face was a bright red. “Aw, it musta been hanging around with Queenie here that did it.”

  They had some time before lunch, so Bett went by the PX, where there was another telegram waiting for her. She hadn’t thought about it, but Emma’s brother William had sent his messages to Elizabeth Carlton, not Smythe, which was probably why Moore had such a strange tone in her voice when she had brought the first one, and why this one hadn’t been delivered to her immediately. William had sent the news that there had been only four deaths in the bombing, two girls and two of their teachers. Sad, but almost a miracle, considering how bad it could have been. Bett sent a reply, thanking William for the news and inviting him to visit her in Iowa if he ever made it over to America. She sent her love to Emma as well, but as she signed her name she knew it was Rains who occupied her heart now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sergeant Rains had come to appreciate many things about the Army over the years, but she knew she would always hate the paperwork. She would rather do hours of KP or run an extra fifty laps around the parade grounds, but neither of those were options just now. Spending an afternoon and evening under house arrest and another morning at a hearing had put her badly behind schedule for the end of this rotation.

  She was working in the conference room of the administration building because it had no windows to distract her, which was practically the only way she could force herself to get the job done. Her hands hurt from hours of trying to make her writing legible. She was hungry and thirsty, since she had missed lunch. The only good news was her squad’s progress was outstanding, and it looked as though most of them would get the assignments they had requested. Technically, their basic training was now over, and they would spend the next week in smaller group classes, attending advanced lectures for their specialties, except for Helen, who might have to graduate a week behind them if she wasn’t released from the stockade in time to join Webber’s squad to make up the classes she’d missed. She sighed, and was making a note to speak with Sergeant Moore, when she heard a knock on the door.

  “Come,” she said, feeling very grouchy as she flexed her hand.

  Bett stepped into the room and the air seemed to change. Rains had thought it was just someone else to interrupt her and wasn’t prepared for the verbal sparring that frequently occurred when she and Private Smythe were together. Not to mention the internal corporeal war Rains knew she was losing, and had been ever since she watched a beautiful blond recruit stand up to Sergeant Moore on her first day on the base. She had sent Bett word through Jo Archer that due to the upheaval of the past two days, the squad leader meeting for this week would be canceled, but somehow Bett had found her here.

  It hadn’t been a lie; Rains had to catch up on entirely too much paperwork. But it was also true that she knew she had no business being unaccompanied with Private Smythe again. She had spent much of the night thinking about their times together throughout basic training, and she had recognized that not a week had gone by that she hadn’t managed to spend some extra time with Private Smythe, alone. On the record, everything looked legitimate enough—squad leader meetings were a prescribed part of a sergeant’s duty—but Rains knew better. There had been the night she had taken Bett to see the big moon and the night Bett had followed her to Mel’s, both of which were entirely inappropriate outings. She forced herself not to think about what would have happened between them in her room if Nix hadn’t knocked.

  As Bett smiled at her, Rains felt something else that was unusual for her: nervous. In the nearly three years that she had been in the Army, she had never met someone who could make her feel less in control than Elizabeth Smythe. Alm
ost everything about her made it impossible for Rains to keep her guard up, and worse, Bett seemed to know it. All right. Rain gathered herself. I’ve walked into commanders’ offices before when they were writing, Rains thought, and sometimes I’ve had to stand for several minutes before they even acknowledged me. She decided not to be that harsh, but to act as she thought Colonel Issacson might act.

  “Oh, Private,” she said, tiredly, “I need just a moment more with these reports. Have a seat”—she gestured to a chair across the table—“and I’ll be right with you.”

  “Certainly, Sergeant,” Smythe replied pleasantly, totally ignoring Rains’s gesture as she closed the door and sat in a chair right next to her.

  A whiff of her wonderful scent drifted over. Ignore it, Rains ordered herself sternly. She tried to continue with her work but saw Smythe watching her write. She tried to shift her body slightly away, but Smythe moved with her, still looking.

  “What?” Rains snapped, losing all semblance of formality.

  “Did you know you have very large hands, Sergeant?” Bett asked smoothly.

  “Of course I know I have large hands. They’re my hands, aren’t they?”

  “Have you always written with your right hand?” Rains kept her left hand in her lap as she wrote, and she used that hand to mirror everything she wrote with her right. It was the way she had finally managed to coordinate the two sides of her brain to make her writing more easily read.

  “As long as I have written, I have written with my right hand,” Rains replied with exaggerated patience. “In my schools, you were punished if you wrote with your left hand, so yes, this is how I write.” She flexed the hand in question, trying to work out the stiffness. “So if you are through with your personal questions—”

  “Oh no, Sergeant,” Bett interrupted teasingly, “I have dozens, maybe hundreds of questions for you.”