The Girls of Pearl Harbor

by Lane, Soraya M.

  Her back was turned to Teddy, and she was grateful. As happy as she’d been to see him, she didn’t want to be reminded of the past. Not tonight.

  ‘So how many men have you saved?’ Peter asked later as he passed her another drink. ‘I bet they can’t believe their luck when they look up into your pretty eyes.’

  Grace laughed and took a sip, feeling light headed after the first one. She hadn’t realized how much the alcohol would affect her, but when she’d stood earlier, the room had spun a little.

  ‘I’ve spent a lot of time in the psych ward, as well as in the main ward,’ she said with a little shrug. ‘I just do whatever I need to do, wherever I’m needed.’

  His thigh brushed hers, and she felt a warm tingle through her body, liking the contact. Peter had been charming all night, alternating between taking her out on the dance floor and finding a seat for them to sit and talk. She glanced back toward the table where drinks were being served, where she’d last seen Teddy, but he wasn’t there.

  ‘You must miss home,’ she said. ‘What’s it like in England?’

  ‘London is great. Well, it was before the war anyway. Maybe you could come one day, once all this is over?’

  Grace tried to hide her smile behind her drink. ‘I’d like that.’

  Peter leaned forward and touched her face, his fingers stroking gently down her cheek. ‘I wasn’t kidding about how beautiful you were earlier. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so pretty.’

  ‘Stop!’ She giggled and took another sip of drink but regretted it when Peter stood and grabbed her hand, hauling her to her feet.

  ‘Come on—let’s go outside. Get some fresh air?’

  Grace nodded. ‘Sure.’ She left her drink, legs wobbly as she followed him, clasping his elbow and leaning in against him. He smelled of aftershave, which filled her nostrils as they walked, and she loved the feel of his big strong arm beneath her fingers. She’d wanted to feel grown up, to be in charge for once, and she’d never been so pleased she’d ignored her sister’s advice.

  ‘You like being in this shithole of a place?’ Peter asked, slurring as he kept hold of her, tucking her tight against his body now.

  Grace tried to pull back a little, stumbling as she tried to keep up with him. It was suffocating being so close against him, even if she did like the feeling that he was protecting her.

  ‘It’s not so bad. I like it here.’

  ‘You do?’ He laughed. ‘They joke that this place is like being sent to the asshole of the world. You’re not supposed to like it.’

  She bristled, wondering how he could make such snide remarks. Where had the charming man she’d been with earlier disappeared to? ‘Maybe it’s different for us, because we’re not fighting. It’s hot and sticky—I’ll give you that—but it’s a whole new world to explore here, and the people are lovel—’

  Peter didn’t give her a chance to finish. He stopped walking, his breathing heavy, the stale smell of too much alcohol and lingering cigarettes on his breath as his mouth collided with hers. She’d been midword, trying to talk to him, and suddenly his lips were hard against hers, his fingers digging into her waist as he held her.

  ‘Stop!’ she managed, fighting to move back from him. ‘Peter! You’re hurting me.’

  He looked down at her, and she anxiously smiled up, wondering why he’d gotten so carried away. She knew she’d drunk too much, and maybe he’d done the same, but he’d acted like he was used to drinking alcohol.

  ‘You’re so pretty,’ he muttered, grinning at her as he reached to pull her closer again. ‘It’s nice to have something pretty to look at for once.’

  The tiny hairs on Grace’s arms were suddenly alert as goose bumps spread like wildfire across her skin. The man who had seemed so exciting, so handsome, was suddenly making her feel afraid. Only minutes earlier she’d felt so grown up and in charge of her destiny, and now the only thing she felt was helpless. She glanced around, realizing how alone they were.

  His eyes had been kind earlier, his gaze happy and dancing. But now she feared there was only one thing he wanted from her, and it wasn’t something she wanted to give.

  ‘I don’t feel so well,’ she lied, doing her best to give him a small smile. ‘Maybe we could go back inside?’

  Grace glanced over her shoulder. The music was blaring from inside—so even if she tried to scream, no one would hear her.

  ‘Let’s stay here a bit longer,’ he said, his fingers digging into her skin again as he forced her closer, making her hips touch his.

  Bile rose in her throat as he tried to press his lips to hers again.

  ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Please, no. Let me go back inside.’ She hated the whimper in her tone and the shake in her legs, but Peter was a big, tall, strong man, and she knew there was no use in fighting him.

  He laughed. ‘Come on—let’s have some fun. You were happy being with me before. I just want a little kiss, and I bought you those drinks, didn’t I?’

  Grace turned her face. ‘You weren’t like this before. I want you to stop!’

  He grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her face to turn back, his smile cruel. ‘I’ll stop when I’m ready. You have no idea what it’s like being here, what I’ve been through. I just need some lovin’.’

  He forced his mouth on hers again as tears started to fall, as she gasped and fought against him, her hands pounding at his chest to get him to stop.

  ‘I do!’ she sobbed. ‘I save men every day! I know what you go through—I do, I do!’

  ‘Shhh,’ he muttered, his eyes dark now as he ripped at her jacket, sending the buttons flying as she struggled against him.

  This is not happening to me. This is not happening! Grace cried out as he tried to stick his hand down her shirt and touch her breasts, slapping at his hands and kicking out, fighting with everything she had.

  ‘Stop!’ she screamed. ‘Stop it!’

  Peter’s hold on her was painful, and he turned her around, one arm choking her as he pinned her against him, his hot, sticky breath against her cheek as he ripped at her skirt, tearing it as he yanked it up.

  ‘Please. No,’ she sobbed as the distinctive jingle of his belt being undone echoed, as he fumbled with his trousers, telling her exactly what was about to happen.

  ‘Help!’ she sobbed as his grip on her tightened, as his arm choked the sound from her and he pressed into her from behind.

  His arm loosened enough for her to breathe, but only for the split second it took him to grab her hair, his fistful almost pulling it from the roots as he bent her over.

  ‘Get your hands off her!’

  The yell came at the same moment as her hair was released and she tumbled forward, her face smashing into the dust as she hit the ground. Her hands almost broke her fall, one palm colliding with a rock.

  A grunt behind her sent her scrambling, tripping over her own feet as she tried to escape, half crawling, half walking from her attacker.

  But she needn’t have worried. As she attempted to cover herself with her torn clothes, Peter lay on the ground while a familiar figure punched him over and over again, his fists slamming into Peter’s face.

  She cried when she realized there was nothing she could do to preserve her modesty, her skirt pulled back into place but with a big rip, her stockings torn, and her shirt gaping open along with her jacket.

  Grace was numb as she stood, her eyes glued to the scene in front of her, feeling as if she were floating above it all watching from somewhere else. She should have cried at Teddy to stop, or maybe she should have run, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

  And then it was over.

  ‘Grace?’ Teddy called, stumbling toward her, away from Peter’s unmoving body.

  There was a cut above his eye, and his hands, open and hanging at his sides, were dripping with blood that she wasn’t even sure was his own. Grace sobbed and wrapped her arms tight around herself, not wanting Teddy to see her like this. She shut her eyes, not even wanting to
look at him.

  ‘Grace?’ he whispered, and when she was brave enough to open her eyes, she found him standing in front of her.

  Only his eyes were nothing like Peter’s. Teddy’s were soft and warm; Teddy’s were filled with worry as he lifted his arms and slowly enveloped her, drawing her against him.

  She collapsed into Teddy, his arms the only thing stopping her from slipping to the ground, clinging to him as guttural noises escaped her lips. Teddy didn’t say anything, didn’t move; he just held her as she cried her eyes out, terrified of what could have happened.

  A few seconds later and she would have been raped. Her virginity stolen from her without a second thought by her attacker. A few minutes later? Would he have found her covered in blood in the dirt? Would Peter have kept on attacking her or left her for dead? Discarded her like rubbish and not bothered to look back? Or would he have helped her up and pretended like nothing had happened?

  She shuddered deeper into Teddy.

  ‘I’m going to take you back,’ he whispered, his lips against her hair as she refused to let go. ‘We need to get out of here.’

  She peeked past Teddy, her cheek to his shoulder, and saw Peter twitching, his arms moving as he moaned. More tears slid down her cheeks.

  ‘I . . . I . . . ,’ she stammered. ‘I can’t.’

  She wanted to run, but her legs were like lead, so heavy she couldn’t seem to move, her knees knocking.

  ‘Here,’ he said, unbuttoning his jacket. He quickly took it off and wrapped it around her. She clung to the front of it and tried to button it, but her fingers fumbled, and he took over, gently moving her hands away and doing up each button for her.

  She wanted to say thank you, but the words never came.

  ‘Come here,’ Teddy muttered, pulling her closer and bending slightly. ‘I’m going to pick you up, okay? Don’t be scared.’

  She nodded and let him scoop her up as if she were a child. This would be the second time he’d carried her to safety, the second time he’d put her before everything else to save her.

  ‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ he said. ‘I promise I won’t hurt you.’

  She wanted to tell him that she knew that—that the only man she was scared of was lying on the ground behind him—but she didn’t. Instead she tucked her face into his chest and cried as he strode away from what had started out as the best night of her life and ended as one of her worst.

  ‘Grace,’ Teddy whispered.

  She blinked, her eyes sticky from all the tears, realizing she’d been asleep.

  ‘Grace,’ he whispered again. ‘I need you to tell me which one is your tent.’

  She cleared her throat, the words like glue as she peered around her, clinging to Teddy’s shirt. She was disorientated as she looked around in the dark, the moon the only light. Grace saw the toilet block then and lifted one hand to point.

  ‘There,’ she croaked. ‘Last tent, down the end.’

  Teddy started walking again, and she shut her eyes, feeling every movement of his body. Her eyes flew open then as she saw Peter’s face, as she felt the painful grip of his fingers into her skin, his hot breath as he tried to push inside of her.

  ‘Stop,’ she whispered.

  Teddy kept walking, his arms tightening around her. Had she been muttering in her sleep? Did he know that she didn’t mean for him to stop walking?

  After another few minutes, the heavy thump of his boots on the dry, packed earth stopped, and she inhaled, her nose congested from all the crying. Teddy gently set her down, his hand lingering on her arm as if he wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand on her own.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said, eyes downcast, not wanting to look at him now that the enormity of what had happened, what he’d seen, hit her. She was drowning in the embarrassment, mortified at what had happened.

  ‘Look at me,’ he said, taking a step closer. He hooked his thumb beneath her chin to force her to raise her eyes.

  Grace stared into his warm brown eyes. She saw pain shining there, but she also saw compassion.

  ‘You don’t have to say anything, Grace. We don’t ever have to speak of this again.’

  She nodded, and his hand fell away. But when she didn’t move, he stepped past her.

  ‘Knock, knock,’ he called out, waiting before opening the tent and holding the canvas back for her.

  ‘April’s working tonight,’ she managed. ‘The others are working, too, or still out for the night.’

  Teddy poked his head in, appearing to look around, and when he saw that the beds were all empty, he took her hand and walked in with her.

  ‘Which one is yours?’ he asked.

  Grace pointed and shuffled forward, taking off his big, heavy, warm jacket and passing it to him. She held one hand over her chest to pull the fabric of her own uniform together.

  ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was still so husky she could barely get the words out. Her throat felt like sandpaper, as rough as if she’d swallowed a handful of sand.

  ‘Can I, ah, get anything for you?’

  Grace shook her head. ‘No.’

  They stood awkwardly, and she wondered what she’d do with her uniform. Could she even sew it properly, or was she going to need a new one? What would she tell anyone who asked what had happened? Her lower lip started to tremble again.

  ‘I’m going to go now,’ Teddy said. ‘Or I can wait if you’d rather—’

  Teddy seemed to sense her fear and reached for her. He lowered her until she was sitting on the bed before sitting down beside her and opening his arm up. She hesitated, drawn to him like a moth to light, but knowing she shouldn’t go to him so willingly. In the end, he made the decision for her, his fingers closing around her shoulder as he gently pulled her into him.

  ‘I’m sorry I never wrote to you again,’ he whispered.

  Grace tucked even closer to him, feeling the safest she’d ever felt in all her life against his firm chest.

  ‘I started writing, but I never knew what to say,’ he said. ‘And instead of coming to find you, I convinced myself that you were better off not seeing a broken, exhausted reminder of your past.’

  She pushed back and looked up at him, his face only half-visible in the almost darkness.

  ‘Why would you think that?’

  He let out a deep sigh. ‘I don’t think you want to hear me talk about war and the man I’ve become.’

  Grace reluctantly moved away from Teddy and folded her legs underneath herself, facing him now. ‘Try me. You don’t have to protect me from what you’ve been through, Teddy. I want to hear.’

  The words hung between them, but he was too kind to remind her that he’d already had to protect her tonight. A moan seemed to gurgle through his throat as he wrestled with the words.

  ‘I don’t even know where to start.’

  Grace reached for his hand, holding his palm in hers. ‘I see men every day who’ve lost everything. They come in filthy and hungry, broken in their bodies and sometimes their minds too,’ she confessed. ‘I’m already seeing the reality of war, Teddy, so you don’t have to shield me. It’s already all around me.’

  He bowed his head, but she never let go of his hand. ‘They never tell you what it’s like to take a life,’ he quietly said. ‘What it’s like to shoot at targets that are actual human beings or buildings and places with people inside.’

  Tears slipped down her cheeks as she heard the pain in his words.

  ‘I keep thinking about those pilots who surprised us at Pearl Harbor, how they were so close they could see their targets, and yet they had no qualms about shooting us unawares when we weren’t even at war yet.’

  ‘I think about that day a lot still,’ she said. ‘I think we probably always will.’

  Teddy was silent before finally speaking again. ‘I think about it every time I fly.’

  They sat together, silent for a long time, before she eventually found the nerve to shuffle closer to him again, her head to his chest as his
arms circled her. She could have stayed like that all night, listening to the gentle huff of air as he breathed, his steady heartbeat managing to calm her as if nothing terrible had even happened to her.

  ‘Argghh!’

  The sharp scream echoed through the tent, and Grace balked at the noise. Teddy leaped up, ducking as something was swung at his head.

  ‘Eva!’ Grace gasped. ‘Stop! It’s Teddy.’

  ‘Teddy?’ Eva exclaimed. ‘What are you doing in here?’

  Tears started to fall in big plops then, streaming down her cheeks as Grace stood and stared at Teddy standing motionless before her and Eva, who was holding the bag she’d used as a weapon. Everything that had happened that night came flooding back to her, making her want to flee back to Teddy’s side and stay there until the war, until everything, was over.

  ‘Go before you’re caught, Teddy,’ Eva said. She dropped her bag and rushed forward, enveloping Grace in one big hug as soon as she saw her standing there. ‘Whatever has gone on here . . .’

  Eva’s voice trailed off as she seemed to take in the scene, as she looked, horrified, between Grace’s torn clothes and tear-streaked face and Teddy standing with his jacket in hand.

  ‘He saved me,’ Grace whispered. ‘Teddy brought me home, he saved me, he—’

  ‘Shhh,’ Eva whispered, holding her close. ‘Thank you, Teddy. You can go.’

  ‘Don’t tell anyone. Promise me you won’t tell April,’ Grace sobbed. ‘I don’t want her knowing—you have to promise me, both of you!’

  She looked at Eva first, who grudgingly nodded, and then at Teddy. He crossed the space inside the tent and spoke into her ear.

  ‘He won’t ever touch you again, Grace,’ Teddy murmured. ‘You don’t want to tell anyone, that’s your business, not mine.’ His lips brushed her cheek, and she fought the urge to grab hold of him and never let go. ‘Don’t let one creep ruin your time here, Grace. You have every right to go out and have fun on your nights off—you did nothing wrong.’ He paused. ‘And thank you for listening. You’re stronger than you realize.’

  Teddy held her gaze, watching her as if he didn’t want to leave her until Eva cleared her throat, and suddenly he turned and slipped out, disappearing into the night.