Secrets of the Red Box

by Vickie Hall

  “How about a dance?” another man asked, his side cap cocked jauntily over one eye. “Sure,” she said, “when I get these doughnuts out.”

  The soldier leaned over the counter. “Say, couldn’t your friend here handle that?” he asked,

  nodding toward the other hostess.

  “Go ahead,” said the girl. “Anything for the boys.”

  Bonnie caught her sarcasm, but didn’t say anything. She went to the end of the counter and

  rounded it to meet the soldier. He snagged Bonnie’s hand and pulled her toward the dance floor. Bonnie didn’t resist, but when he turned to face her, she gave him a cold stare. “I’m not a piece of meat, soldier. Remember that.”

  The man’s brows lifted. “Sure, sure,” he said, leading her into the dance. “I can see you’re a respectable girl. You’re pretty, too, but I bet you hear that all the time.”

  Bonnie didn’t respond. She wasn’t interested in him, or any of the men like him. Those who displayed self-confidence, were gregarious and outgoing, weren’t the men she cared so much about. These men could fend for themselves. It was another type of man who attracted her.

  Bonnie scanned the perimeter of the room, searching for the right man to approach, the man who appeared lonely, wasn’t much to look at, who would be grateful for some attention.

  Then she saw him, a seaman. He sat on a crooked folding chair, his elbows resting on his knees, his expression somewhat blank. His face was lean with an oversized nose, sunken eyes and ears that stuck out from the sides of his head like a double-handled pot. He was young, she thought, maybe eighteen. It was probably the first time he’d ever been away from home. He was probably scared, though he most likely wouldn’t admit it. He looked lost in the busy canteen—alone, maybe friendless or just shy.

  The song ended and Bonnie broke away from the soldier.

  “Hey,” he complained.

  “One dance to a GI,” Bonnie said with a shrug.

  “Yeah, but we didn’t even dance a whole song—”

  She left him and headed for the gangly young man dressed in Navy blues. As she approached, she could see how blonde he was—his eyebrows, even his eyelashes were so light they were nearly transparent. The big nose was shapeless, as if someone had mounded a blob of clay and stuck it to the center of his face. When she stood in front of him, he raised his gaze, revealing pale blue eyes. The boy blushed as Bonnie extended her hand.

  “Would you like to dance?” she asked.

  The boy laughed nervously and the red in his cheeks deepened. “I don’t know how.”

  Bonnie smiled and sat on the empty folding chair beside him. “That’s okay. We don’t have to. What’s your name?”

  The young man glanced around as if he thought she might be talking to someone else. His pastel eyes flicked toward her face, and then he looked away. “Luther Shold, miss.”

  “I’m Bonnie Mackenzie,” she said, leaning forward to meet his eyes. “Where are you from, Luther?”

  He cleared his throat and rubbed his palms across the tops of his thighs. “Iowa.”

  Bonnie’s eyes sparkled. “Really? Where about in Iowa?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t know it,” he said. “It’s a dot on the map… a farm outside Albert City.”

  Bonnie fingered her earlobe. “I grew up on a farm! We lived in Kansas, planted wheat mostly.”

  He nodded, his smile easing into a pleased grin. “Kansas, huh? We’re near neighbors. So, you’re a farm girl?”

  “Well, I’m a city girl now. My folks moved out here about eight years ago, so I’m pretty used to city life.”

  Luther’s thin lips tweaked into a smile, then relaxed again. “I’ve never seen a city as big as this,” he said. “And I’ve never been around so many people in my whole life.”

  “There’s so much more to do in a city,” she said, sweeping her hand in front of her as if offering him a menu of items. “So many people to meet.”

  His smile returned. “I’m used to small time. There was only eight seniors in my graduating class.”

  “That’s all?”

  He nodded. “And all three us boys joined up right after.”

  She pointed to the sleeve of his tunic. “What’s that insignia for?”

  “That’s a communications patch,” he said. “I just finished my training. I guess I’ll be shipping out pretty soon.”

  “You have to be pretty smart to be assigned to communications.” She turned her body so she faced him. “I’ll bet you’re pretty good at it, too.”

  Luther blushed and angled himself a little more toward Bonnie. “Sort of. I try real hard, anyway.”

  A Marine approached Bonnie and stuck out his hand. “Want to dance?” he asked, a broad grin flashing on his handsome face.

  Bonnie glanced at Luther and shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m talking to a friend.”

  The Marine snorted. “Come on,” he insisted, reaching for Bonnie’s hand. “You don’t want to waste your time on this goofy-looking swabbie.”

  Bonnie scowled and recoiled from his reach. “I said no.”

  Luther shot to his feet, pushing his way in between Bonnie and the Marine. “She said no.” His voice sounded as if he’d suddenly found a wealth of courage.

  The Marine tilted his head and stared at Luther, then shoved him. “She probably just feels sorry for you.” He turned to leave.

  Luther took his seat again and Bonnie touched his arm. “Thank you, Luther. That was a nice thing you did.”

  He looked down at the floor. “You can go if you want to, Bonnie,” he said. “I mean, you don’t have to stay and talk to me.”

  She tightened her fingers on his arm. “No, I want to.” She released her hold and clasped her hands together in her lap. “So, tell me why you picked the Navy.”

  Luther cocked his head and drew his eyes from the floor to her. “I like water. There’s a lot of little creeks and streams where I live. Iwas always fishing or swimming when I wasn’t working the farm.”

  “I love the water too, especially the ocean. There’s something wonderful about the way the sand feels beneath your toes when the surf washes up on your legs…”

  “I like the way a creek ripples across the stones. It’s real soothing. I used to lay in the shade and listen to the creek and imagine how that little creek met up with a bigger one, and then merged with a river, and then finally went all the way to the ocean.”

  Bonnie smiled at him. “You have a poet’s soul, Luther.”

  He blushed again and lowered his gaze.

  “What about the boys from your class? Did they join the Navy with you?”

  Luther shook his head. “Nah. They both joined the Army. They said they’d rather die in the dirt than drown in the ocean and get eaten by sharks.”

  Bonnie pursed her lips together. “Well, that just shows you how much they know. I read somewhere that there are more casualties during ground combat than aboard ships.” She was making that up, but she hoped it made him feel better. Bonnie touched his arm again. “And besides, you’re not going to die, Luther.”

  He gave her a skeptical look. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” she insisted. “I just feel it. You’ll come home and be just fine.”

  He sighed and folded his arms across his narrow chest. “I wish you could tell that to my ma. I never saw her cry until the day I left.” He turned his face and looked at her with an intensity she wasn’t expecting. “She lost a baby when I was ten years old and she never cried. Her father died two years ago and she didn’t cry then…I go off to war and she cried and cried. I felt real bad.”

  “I’m sure she misses you.” Bonnie hesitated a moment, then added, “I’ll bet your girl misses you, too.”

  “My girl?” He laughed sardonically and rubbed his palms along his thighs. “I don’t have one…they sort of have a nickname for me back home.” He looked down at the floor. “They call me Spud, because they think my nose looks like a potato.” He laughed as if only
he got the joke. “I think it’d be obvious I don’t have a girl.”

  Bonnie stood up. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s move around. I’m not supposed to spend too much time with any one GI.”

  Luther came to his feet, a look of amazement on his face. “You want to keep talking?”

  Bonnie nodded. “You play checkers?”

  “Sure,” he said, following her as she walked around the perimeter of the room.

  Bonnie found an empty card table with a checkerboard on top. She sat down and motioned for him to join her. “Red or black?” she asked.

  Luther sat across from her. “Lady’s choice.”

  Bonnie picked up the red checkers and began to fill her side of the board. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  Luther scooped a pile of black checkers toward him. “Four older sisters. All but one married farmers. They’re all helping my dad farm. The one sister, she run off with some fertilizer salesman and lives in Dubuque now.”

  “No wonder your mama cried when you left. You’re her only son.”

  “You think that’s it?” he asked as if he didn’t believe her.

  “My little brother died when I was seven…scarlet fever. Mama was never the same after that. I don’t think she ever really got over it.”

  The conversation lulled for a moment as they began the game. Bonnie could tell he was watching her. She slowly raised her eyes and smiled. He smiled back and then looked at the board.

  “You’re real easy to talk to,” he said, pushing a checker toward her.

  “You too.”

  “I don’t have a lot of experience with girls,” he admitted. “They sort of scare me. But you don’t,” he added quickly. “You don’t scare me.”

  “Good.”

  “You’re real pretty, Bonnie. You sure you wouldn’t rather be with someone else?”

  Bonnie’s eyes flew up from the table. “No, I don’t want to be with someone else,” she said, reaching for his hand. “I want to be with you.”

  Luther blinked as if trying to comprehend her words. “You…want to be with…me?”

  His hand went clammy beneath hers and she let go. “I said so, didn’t I?” She pointed at the board. “Your move.”

  Luther seemed to straighten his shoulders and sat taller in the chair. He smiled at Bonnie and put the tip of his finger on the edge of a checker. “Do you come here pretty often?”

  “Most evenings,” she said, contemplating her next move. “I like it here.”

  Luther pushed a checker forward on the board, then backed it up again. “What time do you get through tonight?”

  Bonnie saw that his face had flushed crimson now. “I’m done at nine. Did you want to do something?” She hoped she was making it easier for him to ask her out.

  He gulped and ran his palms along his thighs. “Yeah, uh, do you want to go to dinner?”

  Bonnie picked up a checker, jumped one of his, then scuffed his checker off the board. “Sure. Meet me on the corner of B Street after nine o’clock.”

  She heard him let out a breath and she peered into his clear blue eyes. “I like you, Luther.”

  The young man rolled his eyes and slapped the table with exuberance. The checkerboard pitched from the flimsy table and scattered checkers everywhere, some flipping to the floor. He bolted up from his chair, apologizing for his behavior, then bent over to pick up the stray pieces and nudged the corner of the table with his shoulder, sending it askew.

  Bonnie started to laugh at the comical sight of the lanky young sailor fumbling with checkers and a moving table. He straightened and his face suddenly lost its smile. He held the checkers between his fingers and looked at Bonnie.

  “You’re not kidding me now, are you? I mean, you’re not saying you’ll meet me on the corner and then not show up?”

  Bonnie came to her feet and moved closer to him. “Of course not, Luther. I would never do that.”

  He set the checkers down. “I guess I just don’t see why a pretty girl like you would want—”

  “Stop,” she said softly. “I can’t help it if other girls don’t see what I see in you.” She moved a little closer and grazed her hand over his. “Nine o’clock.”

  Bonnie melted into the crowd of GIs. She danced and talked and had a group of men following her wherever she went. She often looked for Luther as he sat apart from the others. Even while she danced with other men, she found her eyes searching for him. When she caught sight of him, she’d smile and watch as an eager grin spread across his face.

  When it was nearly nine o’clock, Bonnie made her way back to the counter. “How are we doing on coffee?” she asked Mrs. Wagoner, one of the senior hostesses.

  The older woman with a pleasant expression looked at Bonnie. “I just sent Jill back to start some more.” She shook her head. “I swear, these boys must have hollow legs.”

  Bonnie chuckled and noticed the woman still looking at her, the lined countenance now serious.

  “You have quite a following, Bonnie,” Mrs. Wagoner said, her tone now matching her expression. “Why, they practically knock one another over to dance with you.”

  “Oh, they’re just being boys,” Bonnie said with a laugh. “They’d dance with anything in a dress.”

  The old woman cocked a brow. “You be careful, Bonnie. Those boys are facing a very uncertain future. There’s no telling what they might…” she paused, “ask of a girl before they ship out.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” Bonnie replied, allowing her gaze to slide toward Luther. “I know exactly how to handle them.”

  ///////

  Outside, the cool breeze off the bay moistened the air and gave it a briny scent. Bonnie exited the building and walked the block to the corner of B Street. Luther was there, standing beneath the streetlight, his fair complexion a milky white beneath the lamp.

  “You came,” he breathed as she neared him.

  Bonnie hugged him, then took his hand. “Come on,” she whispered. “I know a place.”

  Luther nodded. They rounded the corner of the street and hurried into the night. They walked two blocks and Bonnie stopped in front of a little café. “The food’s not bad, and it’s plenty cheap,” she said, still holding his hand.

  Luther opened the door for her and the pair slipped inside. The restaurant’s quaint atmosphere felt homey, with small tables wrapped in checkered tablecloths, windows painted with red café curtains, and tiny vases of fresh carnations at each table.

  Bonnie asked for a table toward the back, and Luther followed her and the waiter. They sat down as the man presented them with two menus. “House special is fresh sea bass,” he said without looking at them. He turned and left them alone.

  “Do you like fish?” Luther asked. “Ido. I used to catch trout, some perch, and one time I caught the biggest pike you ever seen. He gave me quite a fight, all two feet of him.” He measured out the length of the fish between his palms. “They can be real mean.”

  “Two feet!” she exclaimed. Bonnie didn’t care much for fish, but she would pretend to. “I like most fish, so I think I’ll have the sea bass.”

  Luther lowered the menu. “Gee, Bonnie, we have a lot in common, don’t we?”

  “I guess we do,” she said with a smile. “Let’s see what else there might be.” She glanced up as the ceiling. “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Blue.”

  “Mine too!” she said, her eyes blinking in surprise. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

  Luther thought for a moment. “I’m pretty partial to peach pie, although I never turn down a piece of chocolate cake.”

  “Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting?”

  “Is there any other way to make it?”

  Bonnie laughed. “Not in my book, there isn’t. What about school? What was your favorite subject?”

  Luther bit his lip. “Oh, I didn’t do all that good in school.”

  “Me neither,” Bonnie added. “But I did like reading.”


  Luther laughed out loud. “Me too—still do. I like mysteries and science fiction, that sort of thing.”

  “Have you ever read Jules Verne?”

  “Only all of them,” he snorted with a laugh. “A Journey to the Center of the Earth, Around the World in Eighty Days, but I think my favorite is The Mysterious Island.”

  Bonnie placed her hand over his across the table. “Luther, it feels like I’ve known you all my life…like we’re old friends or something.”

  He moistened his lips and looked into her eyes. “I feel it, too. I’ve never met anyone like you, Bonnie. I wish…” He let his words trail.

  Bonnie tightened her fingers on his hand. “What? What do you wish?”

  His pale eyes darkened as he looked at her. “I wish we had more time. I wish we’d met back in Iowa or Kansas, or somewhere I didn’t have to leave.”

  Bonnie pulled back her hand and lowered her gaze. She nodded slowly. “I know…” Then she looked at him again. “But we can make the best of it, can’t we? We can enjoy whatever time we have. We won’t think about tomorrow, or next week. We’ll just enjoy today.”

  Luther reached for her hand this time. “This is sort of crazy, isn’t it? I mean everything feels so different. Here we are together…I never thought a pretty girl like you would even notice me.”

  “I noticed you right away,” she said softly. “I could see the kindness in your eyes, and I knew you were good inside…not like the people who only pretend to be good, but deep down, I knew you were the kind of man who cared about people, about important things…”

  His face spoke to her of all the feelings he’d never been able to say before. She could see how he’d yearned to belong to someone, to share all that he had to give but never had the opportunity. His hands were no longer sweaty, his eyes riveted to hers as if he was trying to see inside her soul.

  “Bonnie?” he asked with a hesitant catch in his voice. “Do you think there’s such a thing as love at first sight?”

  She gave him a softened smile and pulled a hand free to touch his cheek. “Maybe.”

  They ate and talked until nearly eleven o’clock, when Luther had to be back to the base. Hand in hand, the pair strolled down the quieting streets of San Diego, shrouded in the glow of new love. Luther paused in a darkened recess between two buildings and took Bonnie in his arms. She felt him shaking, his lean body hard against hers. She lifted her hand to his face, as if to guide him to her lips. His mouth felt rigid and inexperienced as he kissed her. Bonnie leaned back. “Like this,” she murmured, then placed her lips to his with a soft, slow kiss.