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The Girls of Pearl Harbor

Page 11

by Lane, Soraya M.


  She remembered Poppy as she walked, remembered the way her body had contorted, remembered the pallor of her face when they’d brought her body in. April shuddered, trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other instead, concentrating on the patient she was about to assist with, recalling his basic facts.

  But all she could think of was what had happened. Why? What was the point of gunning down so many of their men, of taking out their buildings and their ships? Did this mean they’d been plunged into war with the rest of the world?

  She didn’t need to ask the question to know the answer. America was most definitely at war now; the only uncertainty was what step they’d be forced to take next to keep their country safe.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  GRACE

  Grace couldn’t stop trembling. Her mind was racing faster than her heart—a swirl of thoughts and flashes, images that she wished she could forget. Especially Poppy. Poppy. Why had her friend been outside so early? Why had she not come running in when she’d heard the noise? Maybe if she’d moved, if she’d called out to her earlier, if Teddy had let go of her . . . tears welled in her eyes again, emotion choking her throat.

  It didn’t matter what she thought. Poppy was gone, and no amount of wishing was going to change that.

  When she arrived in their mess room, it was already half-full. But instead of the usual chatter—the space always so lively and full of teasing and laughter—there was silence. Except for the odd muffled cry. Grace stood against the wall, leaning hard into it, certain her legs would buckle if she didn’t brace herself. How could she keep standing? How could she keep her eyes open?

  ‘Come and have something to eat,’ someone said gently to her, taking her arm.

  Grace looked at the person and saw it was their matron. She opened her mouth, wanting to say that she was happy to see her, but instead the second she moved, her legs collapsed, and she fell to the ground.

  Arms went around her; Grace didn’t even know who they belonged to, and she didn’t care. All the tears she’d been holding back since April had found her and put her back to work—all the thoughts, the emotions—just bubbled through her, her sobs so loud and guttural they were animallike. As she cried, not even caring, not trying to stop, she heard wails around her, gasps and tears that had no doubt been kept in check just like hers had. But now that they’d been given permission to stop working, to just be for a short while, they were all falling apart.

  ‘Grace?’

  She heard April’s familiar soft voice and looked up, wondering how her sister always managed to find her whenever she needed her. Somehow her big sister was also incredibly capable at holding herself together, and right now she appeared as calm and capable as ever. As if nothing had happened, as if their best friend hadn’t just been gunned down.

  ‘Don’t you care?’ Grace choked out the words as April stared down at her.

  ‘Care? About what?’ April asked as she stroked hair from Grace’s damp forehead. ‘About our patients?’

  Grace pulled back, wiping her own forehead. ‘Poppy,’ she choked out. ‘You’re acting like our best friend hasn’t just died in front of us; you’re not even crying.’ She hurled the words at her, regretting them the instant they left her lips as the room fell silent and April stared back at her, stunned as if she’d slapped her across the face. ‘How can you just keep acting like normal?’ she whispered.

  ‘Grace, of course I care. Poppy was my best friend too,’ April said, and Grace saw tears swimming in her sister’s gaze then. ‘All of us, we’ve all lost something today, or someone. I’ll forgive you since we’re all so tired and . . .’

  ‘I just want to see you cry,’ Grace said, wiping her cheeks. ‘I want to know that you actually feel something. Just for once.’

  It was cruel—she knew she was lashing out at her sister—but she couldn’t help it. How could anyone hold it together like that? How could April just deal with their mother dying, with Poppy dying, with everything, as if it were nothing?

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ April said, standing up and glaring down at her. ‘All I’ve ever done is love you and try to shield you from pain. I’ve taken all that pain in, and I’ve suffered on my own with no one to hold me, so don’t you ever say that I don’t care.’

  Her sister’s voice was quiet and rasping, but Grace knew she’d hurt her. She opened her mouth, knowing she needed to say sorry, but the words never came. If Poppy was gone, if it was truly just the two of them, then she needed to grow up and stop being so impulsive. April would be hurting, too, and it wasn’t fair to take it out on her.

  ‘There’s a broadcast again,’ someone said. ‘Listen.’

  Someone else was passing around hot cups of coffee, and Grace took one, huddling into the corner again and pressing her back against the wall. She hated the way she’d just spoken to April, seeing tears prick in her sister’s eyes, seeing the pain on her face. She buried her face in her hand, sobbing again. Why had she been so cruel? April was right. She’d always looked after her—she didn’t need to be told that—so why had she lashed out at her? Why did she need to see her hurting? Why did it make her feel better to see her pain? She wished for Poppy. Poppy would know how to make things right; she always did. It was always Poppy in the middle, almost as referee, and now she was . . . Grace squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. Gone.

  ‘How many men have lost limbs today?’ she heard one of the nurses ask.

  ‘I don’t know, but I think the burns are almost worse than the limb amputations,’ said another.

  Grace clasped her cup tight, wishing she could put her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t stand to think of all the wounded, of all the lives lost. All she wanted was to see Teddy, to find out what had happened, to find out if he knew anything about Eva and the ships in the harbor.

  ‘It’s the president!’ someone announced as the radio crackled and a hush fell over the room.

  The only movement was from two nurses passing around huge bowls of fried chicken. She saw April glance at her and quickly looked away, taking a piece of chicken even though the smell of it made her feel queasy.

  ‘We are now in this war! We are all in it, all the way! Every single man, woman, and child is a partner in the most tremendous undertaking of our American history. We must share together, the bad news and the good news, the defeats and the victories, the changing fortunes of the war!’

  Grace chewed her chicken, forcing it down as she listened to President Roosevelt speak. She glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering how so much time had passed. It had been more than twenty-four hours since the attack, more than a day since Poppy had died, and she hadn’t even realized. She shuddered, making herself keep eating, trying to push the haunting images in her mind away again. With the blackout curtains up everywhere and the nurses and doctors all using blue lights to see, it had been impossible to know what time of day or night it was. But it still surprised her how long they’d all been awake, without food or water, and after such a trauma.

  She listened to Roosevelt’s clear voice as he continued to speak.

  ‘So we are going to win the war, and we are going to win the peace that follows!’

  He sounded so self-assured, so confident that they were going to win, when they had barely been in it for a day. But if the Japanese had managed a surprise attack once . . . she shuddered and found it almost impossible to swallow her final mouthful.

  ‘Has there been any news from Hickam?’

  Grace’s ears pricked at the mention of Hickam, and she shuffled closer to April. Her sister gave her a look that was difficult to interpret, but she didn’t move away. April would be as anxious to know that Teddy was safe as she was.

  ‘Nothing from Hickam, but there have been unconfirmed reports that the USS Solace has been seen looking unscathed.’

  ‘No, there’s been word!’ someone called out. Grace watched as a nurse stood and cleared her throat. ‘There are reports that many of the men sta
tioned at Hickam Field died in their beds. Many of them were still asleep when it happened.’

  A collective gasp echoed through the room, and Grace dug her nails hard into her palms. Teddy might be all right still. He wasn’t there when it was hit; he was with them—he’d been with her only . . . she couldn’t even remember. Thirty hours ago? She suddenly thought of Eva, remembered her talking about her fiancé. Hadn’t he been at Hickam Field? She was certain he was at the same base as Teddy. But she didn’t even know if Eva was alive, let alone her Charlie.

  ‘Do we know numbers?’ she heard April ask.

  ‘Only that there are many dead, maybe hundreds, and it was worse at sea.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll come back for us?’ another nurse asked.

  Grace bit down hard on her lip. Would they come back? Was this just the start of something much, much worse? Their president had sounded so confident in his announcement, but if they hadn’t anticipated this attack, would they know about another?

  ‘What if they’re waiting for us? If they’re planning on coming back to take us all?’

  Grace fought the urge to rock backward and forward, her arms clasped so tight around herself now as she imagined them coming for her, the Japanese making a surprise attack in the night and taking each and every one of them.

  ‘They won’t,’ April said firmly, as if she somehow knew more than all of them. But Grace knew what it was. It was her sister’s way. She believed in taking charge, in holding her head high and refusing to give in, refusing to buckle no matter what the stakes. No wonder she’d been so capable throughout all of this. ‘If they were going to come back, they would have by now. They might have caught us unawares here, but America is in the war now. There’s no way they’ll ever get away with anything like that, ever again.’

  ‘I’d go straight to the ocean,’ Grace said, surprising herself when her lips moved, the thoughts in her head suddenly shared with the room. ‘I’d rather drown in the water than be taken a prisoner of war.’

  She could feel April looking at her and knew she wouldn’t approve. But she wasn’t brave like her sister; she couldn’t deal with ever being taken or facing more atrocities.

  ‘I’d run for the caves,’ said another nurse. ‘The ones we explored when we first arrived. We could hide there!’

  April cleared her throat, and the others fell silent. ‘I’d fight them to the death if they came for me,’ she said, her voice deep, dark, and angry. Grace didn’t ever remember her sister sounding so menacing. ‘I wouldn’t let anyone capture me and take me alive, and I’d rather die fighting for what I believed in.’

  And just like that, she’d managed to show them all that suicide or hiding wasn’t, or shouldn’t be, an option. Her sister was prepared to face the enemy head-on, despite what they’d seen, but Grace was still sure that she’d rather throw herself into the water and face her fate in the ocean.

  ‘Ah, sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I thought you’d all want an update.’

  A deep, strong male voice spoke behind them, and Grace turned slowly. Teddy! She locked eyes on him and gasped, fresh tears brewing as she saw the man standing there, on both legs. Alive.

  Grace wanted to run to him, but instead she sat, wrapping her arms tight around herself as she stared at him. He was alive! Teddy had made it!

  ‘The USS Solace is the only ship to sustain no damage. Every other vessel in the harbor was either sunk or badly bombed, and Hickam Field took a direct hit by dive-bombers. There are hundreds dead and just as many wounded, and Schofield Barracks, Wheeler Field, Ewa Marine Corps Air Station, they were all hit too.’ He took an audibly ragged breath, his eyes bloodshot as he ran a hand through his hair. ‘We had the aircraft all packed wingtip to wingtip on the field, and it made them an easy target. They strafed and bombed all our planes.’

  They all sat, listening, and Grace finally found her way to her feet and slowly crossed the room as the women around her started to mutter between themselves, some crying, some talking, and some staring blankly as if they were simply in shock still.

  ‘Teddy,’ she rasped, shaking her head as she held out her hands to him. ‘I can’t believe you’re here.’

  He stepped forward and opened his arms, pulling her against him and holding her tight. She clung to him, inhaling the smell of smoke and war on his shirt as she buried her face into his shoulder.

  They didn’t say anything; they just stood there, immobile, as nurses came and went, as April touched them and whispered as she passed, as the radio continued to broadcast the news.

  When he finally let her go, he stared down at her, and she cried all over again. It was impossible not to.

  ‘I saw her,’ she finally blurted, needing to tell him. ‘They brought her body in.’

  Teddy nodded as a single tear fell down his cheek. Guilt overwhelmed her then; she hated that she was in his arms instead of Poppy, wished she’d never hoped to be with Teddy when her best friend had loved him so much.

  ‘I’m so pleased I didn’t lose you too,’ he whispered, drawing her close again. ‘You’re like a little sister to me, Grace. It would have killed me.’

  Little sister. The words washed over her. A few days ago, she would have been furious to hear him describe her like that. Right now, though, she was just grateful to be in his arms, to have someone protecting her when the world felt like it had tipped upside down.

  But just as she looked up to tell him how sorry she was, as she was about to step back and force herself from his arms, Teddy’s eyes flickered, and she felt his body go. He was too heavy for her to do anything other than slightly break his fall as his eyes rolled back and he hit the ground.

  ‘No!’ she yelled, collapsing beside him and feeling for a pulse. ‘No, Teddy. No! I can’t lose you too.’

  ‘Teddy?’ Grace whispered, bending over him as she wiped his forehead with a damp cloth.

  He’d stirred before and not woken, but this time he opened his eyes, looking alarmed before throwing his arms in the air and trying to leap from the bed.

  ‘What happened? What time is it?’

  The room was black from the blankets hanging everywhere, and the patients all looked a strange color from the blue lights they were having to use, so it was impossible for anyone to figure out what time of day it was.

  ‘It’s been four hours,’ she said to him, gently pushing him back down. ‘We’re not sure why you collapsed, but the doctor thinks it was probably pure exhaustion. When did you last eat or drink anything?’

  ‘When did anyone last eat?’ he muttered, touching his hand to his head as he eased back down. ‘My head is pounding.’

  She reached for the water and passed it to him, watching as he propped himself up slightly and took a few long sips.

  ‘I need to get back out there. I—’

  ‘You need to eat a decent meal,’ she interrupted. ‘As soon as you’ve eaten something, I’ll let you go. And your head is pounding because you hit it on the way down when you passed out.’

  Teddy looked like he was about to argue, but then he nodded and gave her back the water. ‘Fine. You’re right. But as soon as I’ve eaten, I’m leaving.’

  She wanted to make up an excuse, tell him that there was a medical reason that she couldn’t let him go, but there was none. She just selfishly didn’t want him to hurt himself, couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone else.

  ‘The hospital food isn’t great, but we all had some fried chicken earlier. I’m going to try to find you some.’ She hesitated, touching his shoulder and then quickly removing her hand, not sure whether it was okay to comfort him like that, even though she’d touched multiple shoulders since the bombing to comfort patients without thinking anything of it. ‘Don’t leave while I’m gone. I need you to promise me.’

  Teddy nodded, and Grace hovered as she saw his hands shaking and wondered if he’d even noticed.

  ‘Teddy?’ she asked again.

  ‘I promise. Just don’t take too long.’


  Grace left him and hurried back to the cafeteria, hoping she hadn’t overpromised on the chicken lunch. There was nowhere to get more decent food from, and she wasn’t even sure if their cook had survived. She managed to find a couple of pieces of chicken as well as some bread, and she raced back as quickly as she could. There was no sign of April, and she was glad; the last thing she needed was to face her sister and remember how cruel she’d been to her earlier in the mess room. April would forgive her—she always did—but she shouldn’t have said such terrible things in the first place.

  When she returned, Teddy was helping someone in the next bed over, holding his water for him, and she smiled at how kind he could be after everything he’d been through himself.

  ‘Tell me what it’s really like out there,’ she asked quietly as he sat back down and she passed him the food.

  ‘You don’t want to know.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, Teddy, I do.’

  Teddy looked unsure, then patted the spot on the bed beside him, and she hesitantly sat down. It felt too intimate, improper for her to have her leg so close to his, watching him eat and talk, but she shook the feeling off. What choice did she have?

  ‘It’s grim,’ he said, and she could see the pain in his eyes as he looked at her. There was something haunting about the way he stared, something in his gaze that told her he’d witnessed something dreadful. Even more dreadful than what she’d seen, or what they’d seen together. She touched his hand, holding it until it stopped shaking, before nudging the food toward him. ‘But we have good men out there, great men, and we’re not going to let those Japs get away with this.’

  ‘But was it, is it, awful out there? What did you see? How many have we lost?’

  ‘Grace, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It was . . .’ She’d never seen Teddy rattled before. He was usually the one laughing or telling stories, the larger-than-life personality who never seemed bothered by anything or anyone. But this had changed him. She could see that. ‘It’s horrific, but I don’t want you thinking about that. You just focus on saving lives in here and staying alive.’

 

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