ANNETTE MACKEY

CLASS COLLISION

Phoenix Rising

Mandolin Publishing

Boise, Idaho

This book is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

Class Collision

Phoenix Rising

All Rights Reserved

Copyright 2011 Annette Mackey

Cover image: Istockphoto, www.istockphoto.com. File #: 12610588. Used with permission.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Mandolin Publishing

Boise, Idaho

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Dedicated to those who serve,

past, present, and future.

Acknowledgments

I’d be remiss if I didn’t thank a few of people, especially my mom who has been a source of constant encouragement. She made me believe I could write long before anyone else even knew it was my hobby. I’d also like to thank Mitzi Richlin for sharing so many of her memories with me. She generously allowed me to look through her old pictures, ration stamps, movies, music, and more. Her husband, Larry Richlin, also had a profound effect upon me. I heard him speak many times of the love he had for his country. I know that serving in the military taught him the importance of patriotism and loyalty. I’d also like to thank Janet Mackey for her stories about her brothers and relatives who served in the war. Joyce Campbell and Leroy (Roy) Campbell were also very generous with their memories, and I can never thank them enough. Roy served on the USS Kitkun Bay CVE7, and the depiction of the slapping boats while sailors tried to abandon ship was taken from an actual event in his life. Although I have used him as a namesake in the book, thankfully Roy was not injured when he was forced to abandon ship. And last, but not least, I’d like to thank my husband, John, for believing in me. His continual “push” made me think that perhaps I could not only write, but maybe I could share it too.

Preface

Events surrounding the Battle of the Philippine Sea struck me deeply when I was doing research for this book. Prior to this battle, never before in naval history had an aircraft carrier gone against the mandatory blackout rule at night. Blackouts were required so as to prevent the enemy from knowing the location of ships, thus preventing an attack. After the offensive strike over Saipan, Marc Andrew Mitscher, the commander of the Fast Carrier Task Force, was forced to make this difficult decision. His choice was to either lose the flight crews and aircraft that flew over Saipan, or risk saving their lives at great peril. When he gave the order to “Turn on the lights,” he put his life, career, the entire armada, and even the battle on the line. World War II planes did not have guidance systems, so without light, the American pilots had no reference point to navigate by. When things became desperate, Mitscher sent out search ships with spotlights to guide the lost planes back home. These beacons of light shone across the dark waters for both friend and foe to see. Following the marked path, the American pilots were able to find the task force. When they flew over the task force, they found every ship blazing, which allowed them to land. Fortunately, the enemy never figured out what was happening.

Marc Andrew Mitscher died of heart problems only two years after the war ended. Quietly, he slipped into oblivion like so many others. People just didn’t know what he had done.

Chapter 1

The School of Hard Knocks

…Misty eyed and dusty road, a long way from home… wherever that is.

David left Gordon’s truck at the train station in Evanston, Wyoming with a large piece of cardboard in the windshield reading, Gordon Thompson, Lowman, WY.

Linda was growing more distant by the second. In order to travel together, David figured they had to be married, and although Linda agreed the previous day, she did so reluctantly, and only because David had pressured her with memories of painful abuse. His argument was simple. He had come to save her from all of that, though secretly he knew the truth. He was a fraud and things could easily backfire. If that happened before they tied the knot, she just might bolt.

Even worse, Gordon could show up at any minute and exert his parental rights, forcing Linda to return home to the ranch. After years of hiding from the authorities, David knew where he had to go. Salt Lake City. Only a major city could hide their tracks. It wasn’t as big as Philadelphia or Chicago, but there wasn’t much choice. The Great Basin only had so much to offer.

“Two tickets please,” he mumbled to the cashier through the window while Linda waited on a bench across the rails. She kept her head lowered and shoulders hunched. David couldn’t help but sink when he looked at her. What was he doing? This was practically kidnapping, something he wished he knew nothing about.

Still reeling in emotion, Linda sat oblivious to everything around her. She was in no condition to hold a coherent conversation, let alone make a life-altering decision.

David straightened his shoulders and settled his misgivings. Whether it was right or wrong, he couldn’t stop now. He wouldn’t. He needed her, and his needs could only survive so much neglect. Gently he pulled her up by the elbow and led her to the train. Linda didn’t even have the strength to look over her shoulder as she left behind the only world she had ever known.

When they got to Salt Lake City, David filled out the appropriate paperwork. It was nice to be able to write his true name on the certificate. Buying his name back had been the best money he’d ever spent. He was still working over the forms when Linda startled him.

“David, you’ve marked in the wrong year of your birth.”

Apparently she was paying more attention than he thought. “Uh… I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that,” he stumbled for words, glad that he had chosen the far counter, away from the main front desk, to fill out the forms.

“You’re nineteen, almost twenty. The way you filled in your birth date,” she pointed to the paper, “would make you younger than me.”

David shifted his weight. “Uh… You see…. the thing is…” he stumbled, his smile contorting fast. “Actually, I lied about that … to your dad, I mean.”

“You lied?” She didn’t understand. Why would he lie about his age? Why would anyone lie about their age?

“Uh, yeeeeaah.” A cowboy drawl filled the cracks in his long lost polished English.

Linda’s eyebrows creased together in confusion.

“I don’t turn eighteen until February.”

Her shoulders went glacial.

“But it’s okay,” he added quickly. “People in this state can get married at sixteen.” He motioned toward the secretary. “I checked. Everything’s fine. Don’t worry. We don’t need a parent’s signature.”

Linda’s face shriveled. “I’m older than you?”

“Just a little, I think.” His laugh was sheepish, too sheepish and a twitch pulled at his eye.

“Why weren’t you in school? How do you know all that stuff? All that math and history and, and…? You’re, ‘Mister You Better Study or Else.’ This doesn’t make any sense.”

“I needed a job and I thought your dad, you know, wouldn’t hire a kid. So, I lied.”

“But you seem older.”

“It’s all in the power of persuasion.”

“You’re joking right? This is just one of your—”

“One of my what?” David had never been much of a prankster. They both knew that. “You’re only seventeen?” The room was turning and it wasn’t just from the recent concussion she had received from the tumble down the stairs at the hands of her father.

David shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It never came up.”

“It never came up?! David, that’s a lie. You lied! To me,” she stressed.

David looked around the large foyer hoping that no one else had heard. A nerve pinched in his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. Just… everyone else. Linda, if people knew my real age, I would have been stuck slaving away on some farm, for free. I needed to work, but more importantly, I needed to get paid. I have to take care of myself. No one else does.”

She looked at him as though he were a total stranger, rather than the boy she had fallen in love with over the past year and a half.

Love… What did it really mean anyway? One second they were happily kissing in the fields, necking in the barn, and the next her father was practically in the act of committing a murder. In his anger the beating had gone on and on. It seemed like forever, even after David had fallen into unconsciousness. Then, with sweat dripping, Gordon’s frenzy to pulverize him had turned on her.

Gordon’s eye had blazed with fury as he thought of his daughter’s betrayal, and she ran for the stairs, only to be thrown down. There wasn’t time to prepare as his fists began pounding, slamming into her face.

Would David really be different than her father? He had already lied to her, and now they were about to be married. Maybe he was just like the rest of them. Men. They were all so self-centered and cruel.

“Where is your family?” She didn’t care if it made him angry.

“I don’t have a family anymore.”

“Everyone has a family.”

“Mine’s gone.”

“Gone where?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” If they were going to be married, she had to know, but instead of answering, he returned his focus to the form. “You should have been in school with me. How is it that you can teach me my homework when you belong in the very same class?”

He laughed outright. “You’ve got to be kidding. You know I never belonged in your classes,” his eyes sparkled for a second as he remembered their time together. Then he soured. “I could teach those classes.” His tone was harsh. “And you know it,” he punctuated the words like a slap in her face.

Linda wanted to step back, but there was no time. What was she to do?

For a second David thought of Mandolin. He was more than this. He was more, and she had no right to question him. He was above all that.

Linda pulled at the forms under his hand and looked them over carefully as he moved back in defiance, his jaw locked.

“This says you were born in Philadelphia. Is that true? Or do you just put whatever comes to mind on these forms?”

He stood cocky and spoke with hatred rumbling through his chest, a sound she had never heard before, from him. “Everything I put on that form is true. My family lives in Philadelphia.”

“What about your name, Oliver Twitchell? Why did you change it?”

If it were possible, David stiffened even more.

“If it’s going to be my name too, I have a perfect right to ask.”

“Oliver Twitchell was never my name. I told you that.”

She handed him back the forms and covered her face with a hand. She couldn’t go home and she didn’t have any money. And now that she had run off with him, dragging her family’s reputation through the mud, she was stuck.

The pained look on her face spoke volumes. David thought for a moment of the monster who had stolen his life. Beez. How he hated the man. Now it was he. David. He was the monster. He was stealing Linda away, and her life.

Years slipped as a rush of water passed his ears.

That awful night…

Beez… Willy… Alex running… Alex turned in the darkness as he called out to David who lay strapped to the earth. David had to get up. They had to escape, run, but David couldn’t move. Willy was on top of him, forcing his face down.

With a burst, Beez slammed through the door, his arms outstretched as he aimed and shot. The whiz of the bullet whistled loud as Alex turned to face his fate, arms wide, as if he had become an offering. The bullet pierced his chest, throwing a cone of dark red liquid spewing out of his body like an eruption from an angry volcano. Upon impact, as if in slow-motion, Alex was sent to the ground in a plume of dust, blood oozing thick from his chest like maple syrup.

…No! David barely avoided the reflex to call out as beads of sweat formed across his brow. It wasn’t real. He was at City Hall in Salt Lake City. He was a grown man. He was…

was…

lost…

to the past…

David struggled against Willy’s weight as he cried out, tears distorting his vision. With Willy on top of him, David lay pinned to the ground completely helpless as someone stepped forth from the dust. David blinked in the hopes of clearing his vision so that he might see who had come to their rescue. Someone familiar. Someone well dressed, perfect in posture and… arrogant. He watched helplessly, dumbfounded as his adult self emerged through the frame of brush and weeds. The adult David stood tall and firm as the pinned child wondered why the man didn’t help his brother. Alex who lay gasping and gurgling in blood, desperate for breath as the last sentiments of life faded. The child David strained against Willy’s weight, trying to see, hoping, his eyes begging. Help him! Help him now! Before he dies!!! Please, save Alex!

But the man, hateful, strong, and without compassion did not. Rather, he walked with carefully trained steps until he stood directly over Alex's dead body in triumph. Steadily, he lifted his eyes to the child, controlling his smile, so steady and firm that the child self shuddered.

“David?” Linda pressed.

He was in the present again with beads of sweat running thick across his brow, his posture perfect. Though pale, it was unmistakable. He was, if only for a second, that man: arrogant, unmovable, and cruel. David Treigh Bastien was alive and well, willing to steal the life of another if it meant his own happiness in return. After all this time, he hadn’t really changed.

“David, what’s wrong with you?” Linda had been talking to him as he stared blankly across the room, rigid and pompous.

In an instant the posture was gone and he gripped the counter. “Linda, I never meant to lie to you. I swear. This age thing – it was just for the sake of survival.” He wiped his face again knowing that she had no idea of the demons that haunted his past.

“Okay.” She nodded and walked away to a bench, feeling more scared than nervous. Obviously he didn’t need her. He didn’t even hear her. Clearly, he was going to fill out the forms without her input, and perhaps even make up half the answers.

David watched her walk away, and finished scrawling the information then took the papers to her to sign.

She grasped the clipboard. “You could’ve told me you were a kid, same as me. I keep a pretty good secret.”

“I’m sorry.” He lowered his head, ashamed of the ugliness that smothered his every decision.

Linda studied the forms carefully wondering if there were any more surprises. November twelfth, nineteen thirty-eight; she was barely eighteen and David was only seventeen. Things certainly had not turned out the way she had hoped.

As a young girl she fantasized about her wedding. Flowers, the view of the mountains behind her home, silky ribbons and lace, a soft dress of fluffy white, her mother smiling, her father... her dad… She closed her eyes as reality bit. She had a face full of bruises, no money, and was running away from everyone and everything she had ever known. What a wedding.

She didn’t want to think about it anymore and slashed her signature across the bottom of the form. “Don’t lie to me again,” she said and handed the papers back to David.

“I won’t,” he said, obviously worried that she might change her mind at any second. He shouldn’t have been so harsh. He hadn’t meant it. Now that they were merging lives, he would have to learn to ignore his memories when they flashed like that. The last thing he needed was for her to find out that he was a nut-job.

It wasn’t much of a ceremony, what with both of their injuries. The Justice of the Peace looked at them suspiciously, thinking they looked more like the bride and groom at a shotgun wedding rather than two people in love.

The standard words were spoken, every word of it dry. It didn’t matter anyhow. Linda hardly heard them.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the administrator asked.

David’s face softened. What Gordon had done was unforgivable. Her left eye was swollen and purple, and there was a tear at her lip. “I do,” he said promising to never let harm come to her again.

“And do you take this man to be your lawful husband?”

Linda felt an internal knot. She didn’t even know his real name. This Oliver business was more than he admitted. She looked into his blue eyes, the ones she had come to trust. They weren’t real. They were full of deceit. Or was that trauma? Bloodshot, courtesy of Gordon Thompson. He was only seventeen! What was she doing? His face was smashed worse than hers, and he kept his left arm close to his body. She knew why. A bruised, possibly broken rib bothered him, even now as they took their vows. Her father had done that. A tear trickled down her cheek. She couldn’t go home. She had put her family in disgrace by running away unmarried with David, and now she was obligated to make it right. What choice did she have?

“I do,” she said wishing she could go back in time.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Linda closed her eyes, pressing more fluid in a trickle down her face.

“You may kiss the bride.”

What? That was the last thing she wanted. She didn’t want to kiss him. Love! It was all a sham. She spouted the words under the stars that night out of some childish fantasy. She thought he was her Perseus and she, his Andromeda. What a fool she had been. What a complete fool! Now she was standing here, at her wedding no less. This was insane. This person in front of her, this man or boy, she never wanted to see him again, and now they were legally bound.

David leaned in and gently brushed the side of her cheek with his lips. A droplet of water transferred from her face to his when he pulled away.

A picture was snapped, and David was told to provide a mailing address. Since they didn’t have one as of yet, he told them he would send word later. Linda walked away as he took care of the final details, returning to the foyer where she collapsed into a silent stupor on one of the benches lining the exterior wall.

After David finished talking with the secretary, he took up a conversation with some of the building’s personnel. Linda couldn’t understand why. As far as she was concerned, it was all mumbo jumbo. She had just given her life away. Man and wife. What was that supposed to mean anyway? Was she his property now? Her father was right all along. She should have steered clear of boys and focused on her studies. Now she wouldn’t even graduate high school, and to make matters worse, neither would her husband.

What a horrible word. Husband. Oh, what a fool she’d been. What a terrible, terrible fool. “I’m so sorry Daddy,” she whispered under her breath. It was the worst mistake she’d ever made, the worst mistake of her life.

“Okay,” David said excitedly when he plopped down on the bench beside her. “I’ve been talking with these fellas, and they said there’s a new company in Washington State that’s actually hiring right now. Can you believe it? They’re looking for laborers. It’s like a miracle. I think we should change our plans and head out there, especially since your father knew I wanted to go to California.” It wasn’t until he took a breath that he realized her lack of interest. “Linda?”

She put a hand to her face again, covering her eyes as if to hold back the tide. Randy was wrong. David wasn’t at all refined. His language was as common as a stable rat. And worst of all, now she was married to that rat.

“Are you okay?”

She swallowed hard, unable to speak.

David continued a little more tentative. “So, I think we should head up to Seattle. We’d be fools not to go where the work is.”

She looked at her lap. “Well, I guess you’ve already made the decision then.”

“What?”

“You said I’d be a fool to disagree.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” David was worried. Even though they were legally married, it was obvious that she wasn’t happy about it. He thought back to the day he’d lost his family. It had been the worst day of his life too. But he also knew that Linda didn’t know how hard life could be. The Depression wasn’t just a little inconvenience. It was a matter of life and death. “Linda, I know this is hard. Really, I do. I wish… I wish things had turned out differently.”

“Do what you want. It doesn’t matter to me.”

That was definitely a bad sign, not that they had much choice. If David didn’t get a job at Boeing, someone else would. With an entire nation full of desperate people, the opportunities in Washington State were sure to be gone soon.

“Lets go,” he said lifting her elbow. Linda stood without a word.

Few trains were running so every car was full. David wouldn’t have minded were it not for their appearance. He hated when people stared. When he was a child they looked for a different reason. Now, revulsion was the most common look in their eyes, or worse.

David kept hold of Linda’s hand as he pulled her along behind him, hoping that his body would shield her and offer some protection from the piercing eyes as they searched for a seat. It was clear that Linda felt the same. She huddled close behind him with her chin so low, it about dug a hole in her chest.

Finally, they found a bench opposite a young family and sat down. Their battered faces were instantly of concern to the mother. David decided to say something in the hopes of getting their noses out of his business.

“Car wreck,” he mumbled as he stashed their small bags in the overhead compartment.

The mother looked down as if she hadn’t wondered at all, embarrassed that he assumed as much.

“Really?” the father asked with peeked interest. “A friend of mine is lobbying for maximum safety limits in the legislature. How fast were you driving?”

David didn’t even pause. He knew how to lie. “Oh, I wasn’t driving. My brother, God rest his soul… We were out for a Sunday drive. The poor sap, he was always a bit of a show off.”

“That’s terrible. He was killed?”

“Yes,” David bowed his head in reverence as he took his hat from his head and settled it across his chest.

The man immediately felt embarrassed for pushing the issue. The desired effect achieved, David felt almost smug at his abilities and took Linda’s hand, intertwining the fingers.

Linda marveled at his audacity. He lied so easily, didn’t even flinch. She wanted to pull her hand away. Talk about manipulation. He could have lied to her about everything.

As night fell, the family across from them leaned into one another’s laps and shoulders in the ease of slumber. David knew that Linda’s exterior was approaching absolute zero, but still he felt he should ask. “You could lean against my shoulder if you’d like.”

She looked at him the way she had the first day they met; like he was totally worthless, and instead leaned her head against the window. No doubt she chilled the glass. Pretending not to care, David folded his arms across his chest and put his feet out as far as he dared. Despite the worry, exhaustion overtook his body, and he was soon asleep.

As his breath evened and slowed, Linda seemed to soften. His bleached hair fell in mild wisps across his forehead, smashed flat from wearing a hat during the heat of the day. Almost wanting to brush it free from his brow, her mind drifted to the first time she kissed him. David had been digging postholes all day, sweating profusely, and though he had never seemed more tantalizing, her plan was to treat the kiss as a joke. It didn’t quite turn out that way. At the time she laughed at his dumbfounded expression, so shocked, so beautiful, red with embarrassment and desire, but the truth was more complicated. What she really wanted finally became a reality when they kissed again months later in the cabin. There it had been real. Even with the memory, the hair on her neck grew electric.

Seeing him sleep this way, so peacefully, he was certainly beautiful, even with the bruises; and that in and of itself was strange. When he first came to Lowman over a year and a half ago looking half-starved with that stringy ponytail, she almost gagged. Now, for a second, she thought she saw the man she once loved; the man who jumped between her and her father when violence erupted, the man who pledged to give his life if he had to, the man who loved her more than life itself.

Then with a slap, reality entered. He wasn’t a man. He was a boy. He was seventeen! Even younger than her. He was a kid, and his name wasn’t David. It was Oliver. Oliver Twitchell! He lied. He lied about everything!

Turning away, she leaned even harder into the window trying to put as much distance between them as possible. It wasn’t fair. Nothing had turned out the way it was supposed to, and now she was stuck with him, married. Things couldn’t get much worse.

Chapter 2

A New Life

After a week of travel, there was no time to wait. Despite the drizzle, David and Linda ran from the train station to the bus stop in Seattle. They had to get to Boeing as quickly as possible. In all likelihood, they were already too late.

Sloshing through more than one puddle, they burst through the lobby doors dripping wet. Miraculously, David landed a good paying job in spite of his lingering wounds, and the plant manager even recommended housing at the onsite barracks. Life was looking up. David actually had a job. A real job with a regular paycheck! It was too good to be true.

The apartment managers, Richard and Bev Sakamoto, met them at the barracks. They were an older couple whose children had long since grown, and in their old age, they managed the on site housing for Boeing. The influx of workers seeking residence was almost more than they could handle, and there wasn’t much left for David and Linda to choose from. Just a few dilapidated older units that were in need of repair.

Richard was several years older than Bev, and a bit feeble, so he stayed at the front desk while Bev took David and Linda to one of the last remaining apartments. David was just glad they had anything at all. He didn’t want Linda to experience living on the streets, not even temporarily.

A thick mousey scent hit them squarely in the face as they entered. It was a small apartment with a combined living and kitchen area. A narrow hall was to the immediate left of the entry with a bedroom at the end of the hall and a small bathroom off to the side. A stained bare mattress could be seen through the bedroom door.

Linda’s face went through several phases before settling on a repugnant grimace that pressed deeper with every step as they entered the small apartment. David pretended not to notice, still enjoying the euphoria of success.

The apartment was lightly furnished with a kitchen table and an old sagging, yellow couch. All in all, David thought the place looked pretty good. It was by far the best housing he had ever known. Mandolin didn’t count anymore. The world he had known as a child may as well exist only in fairytales.

As David talked with Bev, Linda meandered through the apartment noticing years of grime, broken hinges, rotting floorboards, and windows covered with thick soot. The kitchen sink was stained putrid, as were the decomposing cabinets and floorboards beneath it. Bev noticed Linda’s concern and mentioned that the water had to be manually turned on and off with a pipe wrench because of a leak.

As Linda held her nose from the smell, David happily agreed to a six-month lease, and followed Bev back to the office to cover the paperwork. In their absence, Linda stepped outside under the overhang to observe the landscape. It was certainly green… and wet. Fuzz seemed to cover everything. Even the railing was cloaked in moss. Looking around, she was overwhelmed by the trees, having never seen anything like them before in her life. Thick as weeds, not even the forested mountains of Wyoming could compare. With a shudder, she felt strangely claustrophobic and hurried back inside the dingy apartment hoping the low clouds wouldn’t last all day.

When David and Bev finally returned, Bev set some rags and Ajax on the kitchen table suggesting that they might want to clean the place. After explaining the problems associated with the apartment, particularly the plumbing, where the laundry room was, and what to do if their key got stuck, Bev finally left them alone.

As soon as the door was shut, the words were out. “There’s only one bed,” Linda complained. They might be married, but it was only in name, and she had already made her feelings on the matter known.

Even so, David looked at her as if to say, “Yeah, so?” though he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m not sleeping with you. I already told you that.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said, looking at the short lumpy cushions. Then again, maybe the floor would be more comfortable.

“And we don’t have any bedding.”

“We can sleep in our coats.”

She wondered why she didn’t think of that. David noticed her relief. If these were the worst of her concerns, he figured they would get along fine. His worries were more along the line of food. What were they going to eat? Right now? Tonight? They had spent all of their money, and though David’s job started the next morning, he wouldn’t get a paycheck for another week at least. With that in mind, he went out in search of day labor.

After he left, Linda set her mind to cleaning. The first order of business was water. She picked up the heavy wrench and peered under the cupboard at the pipes, trying not to breathe the pungent odor. Maneuvering into a strategic position, she griped the pipes in the wrench only to find that they were stuck tight. Finally she succeeded in loosening them only to get a spew in the face. Fighting the spray, she stood up and filled the bucket in the sink, then knelt down to shut the valve back off. In the process, she had been drenched from head to toe. Once she had the pipes shut off, she stood up, her shoulders pinched high as her arms hung limp with a steady drizzle, dripping to the floor. She looked more like a drowned alley cat than a newlywed bride. Gasping, she wrung the water from her skirt and swiped her clinging blouse, which had become transparent from the spray. Although she would rather cry, there was nothing else she could do, so she started in on the nasty job with a shiver. At least the only eyes to see her immodesty belonged to rodents. With that, a smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. David hated mice. That was nice. At least in that respect she was tougher than him.

It was an enormous job, and after a few hours, most of her dress had dried. The windows let in a little more light and the musty scent had wafted out into the rain where it belonged. Still she scrubbed on and on, filling the room with a squeaky clean scent. By afternoon, she stood back with her hands on her hips and surveyed the room.

“Much better,” she commented with a nod and shut the windows as her stomach rumbled. Not wanting to think about food, she decided to go out for a walk. The rain had slowed, though a light mist remained, and the air smelled like a combination of pine and overwatered worms. Though the temperature was in the fifties, the damp air clung to her with a deep chill, especially since her dress was still damp. Wanting to get warm, she spotted a laundry room and stopped in for a few minutes.

There was only one machine for each building, but that was plenty. Most people didn’t wash their clothes more than once a week anyhow. Her mother’s machine ran on gas, creating toxic fumes that were so insufferable, she had to hold a cloth over her nose and mouth to filter the air. Even so, it was still preferable to washing in the canal. But boy, could that old monster bang away, rumbling with a thunder loud enough to wake the dead. This machine looked different and she strained to peek behind it. A large black plug stuck into the wall. With the realization she almost cheered aloud. It was electric! No fumes. And the wringer looked to be in good condition too. There was nothing worse than a faulty wringer. She rubbed her hands subconsciously in remembrance of the pain. More than once she had caught her hand between the rollers.

As she studied the washing machine, a man came down the stairs. He looked to be about eighteen, but then who was she to judge? She thought her husband was twenty, possibly twenty-one. With a shudder she shook her head. Husband. There was that word again.

The man carried a load of laundry as he came through the doorway. Linda stepped out of the way so that he could set the heaping pile on top of the machine. Seeing his confusion over the dials, she offered some help.

He smiled. “I guess I’m not much good at this sort of thing.” Suddenly, he noticed her battered appearance.

Linda smiled and looked over his piled laundry. “Car wreck,” she said. Though it had been a couple of weeks, the lingering bruises still caught people’s attention. At least David was right on that account. It was easier to lie than explain that her father had beaten her nearly to death after catching her with her lover in the barn. Never mind that he had only caught them engaging in a light kiss, on the cheek no less.

Within a minute she had the man’s laundry sorted and ready to load. Expertly she prepped the machine and started the motor. “There you go.” It was nice to help someone.

“Hey, thanks,” he said with a hand behind his neck. “I don’t suppose you’d like to get some coffee? I’d be glad to buy you a cup for your trouble.”

Boy, he didn’t know much about laundry. You can’t just walk away. You have to babysit it. These machines don’t run themselves. After the sloshing, you have to run each item through the wringer, one at a time, then rinse, then wring, then... Oh? Suddenly the back of her neck went scarlet as she realized that he must have misunderstood her intentions.

“I’m married,” she said, wishing all men could fall off the face of the planet. Even so, how strange that she had the perfect excuse. “I just thought you could use some help. That’s all.” Her cheeks morphed through several shades of purple. Quickly, she went for the door. If only she didn’t have to turn down the food. “You know,” she said turning around. “For a quarter or two, I’d be glad to stay and do all of your laundry. Fold it and everything.”

The man’s eyes lit up. Fresh from home, he’d never even set a batch of clothes out to dry, let alone washed them.

“If you tell me which apartment you’re in, I’ll hang them to dry in my apartment and bring them to you tomorrow,” she said, wondering how long it takes for clothes to dry in such a damp environment. Her dress was long over due. In Wyoming it would have been as crisp as bleached bone by now.

“Sure, yeah, okay,” he sputtered with a smile. “I’m in H-23. It’s that building right over there,” he said pointing. “And thanks.” Clearly, he thought he was getting the better end of the deal.

Linda looked down at the banging machine. Perhaps he was, but she was so hungry and a quarter would buy something hot. She settled over the machine and took a pair of overalls from the sloshing tank and pulled off the metal clasp in preparation for the wringer.

She was about halfway through the load when he came back, only this time he had a friend. Obviously there was more than one fella adjusting to life on his own. This other boy was hoping for the same deal, and Linda was only too happy to oblige. By the end of the day she had seventy-five cents in her laundry red-hand, which was more than enough for dinner.

She went back to the apartment to hang the clothes with the wire and pins Bev loaned her. After a few hours David finally returned that evening looking more miserable than ever. Though he had spent the entire day searching, he’d come up with nothing.

“Hey,” he said glumly as he came through the door. Linda was still hanging the clothes, which hung in lines that caught the top of his head. Not expecting such contraptions, he was less than stable on his feet and landed a slap in the face from a pair of trousers.

“Any luck?” she asked.

He shook his head looking wide-eyed as he surveyed the room.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him and held out her hand.

“Where did you get that?” he asked at the sight of the coins.

“The laundry. I did some loads for people.”

Never in a million years would he have…

“What? Did you think I was going to sit around all day?”

David shook his head as a smile crept across his face with relief. “Good job,” he said walking around the dripping clothes and growing puddles beneath them.

“Thanks,” Linda smiled, glad that she had been the one to save the day.

They bought a bag of rice and ketchup, which turned out to be an incredibly delicious meal after such a long day of travel, job hunting, scrubbing, and washing.

“I’m a goldmine,” Linda teased over their steaming bowls.

“Apparently so,” David agreed stuffing down a mouthful.

“Most men might be offended, or intimidated, at the very least,” she teased, tweaking her rice. Bev had lent them some dishes and chopsticks. “You know, with their wife bringing home the bacon.”

“Is this bacon? Strange, it tastes different somehow,” David slobbered through a mouthful. “Though I must admit, it’s been a while.”

“You know what I mean. Most fellas don’t like being out done by a dame.” She was going to milk this for all it was worth.

“Hmm… not me,” he said swallowing. “I like a little muscle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He laughed. “I’m just glad you’re not a lily-liver.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“No, really,” he tried to recover, knowing the game could easily sour. “I’d much rather eat than keep my dignity.”

“Hmm. I guess you’ll get your chance tomorrow,” she said in reference to his new job.

He smiled, glad that she was relaxing a little. “Thanks for the dinner.”

Later that night, David slept on the carefully positioned couch so as to avoid the constant drip from nearby clothes. Unfortunately, he soon found there was no portion of the yellow monster that did not have sharp or broken springs spiking into his side, back, hip, shoulder, and buttocks. After hours of tossing and turning, he finally slapped down on the wood floor, closing his mind to the mousy scent that permeated the floorboards, even as he huddled deep into his coat, determined to find some wire cutters the next day.

In the morning, Linda saw him crunched with only inches between his face and the now evaporating puddles. For a second, she felt a twinge of guilt. Although she hadn’t slept comfortably on the stained mattress, at least it wasn’t the floor. Then with sudden disdain, she tipped her nose in the air. It was his choice. He could have slept on the couch if he wanted.

At her presence, David stirred from his fitful sleep.

“I’m going to make some rice,” she explained as she cranked the pipe wrench, bracing in advance against the spray. Sputtering, she collected water in the pan as best she could before cranking it back off again. The wet job left her covered in ice water.

“Here,” David said offering her his coat as a towel. “From now on, let me do that.”

“It’s nothing,” she said wiping her face and dress, embarrassed that her dress had become transparent in splotches again.

“Obviously.” David put the coat around her shoulders. Then more forcefully, he said, “Let me turn the water on, at least until I get a chance to fix the leak.”

“Is that a leak? I thought maybe it was Niagara Falls.”

“Things will get better. It’s always hard at the start.”

“I guess you would know.”

She hadn’t meant it kindly and he nodded with understanding, wishing she could stop thinking of him that way. But the whole town of Lowman, Wyoming had seen him for what he was; a flea-bitten nobody whose only belongings had been thrown in the burn barrel once Linda’s mother finally got him in the bath.

After breakfast, David went to the factory and Linda went down to the laundry room. To her happy surprise, she began to build a steady cliental. Evidently there were quite a number of men in town who had no inclination toward women’s work. Within a few days, she had a number of referrals, and more than enough work to keep her busy. If only her hands didn’t have to suffer quite so violently in the process. Oh, what she would give for a little bag balm from her father’s barn.

That evening, David tipped the couch over and used the pipe wrench to pull out the broken springs in the yellow monstrosity. Engaging in an ever increasingly fierce battle, he pulled and tugged using his knees, legs, and feet to prop himself into various contortions, each more twisted than the last as he vigorously yanked and wrenched. Finally, he settled over the underside of the couch, prying with all his might as a particularly disjointed piece of metal squealed in agony as he pulled it as if from the belly of a beast, finally ridding the great monster of its meanest prong.

Unbeknownst to him, Linda watched with amusement. Before he realized she was there, he let slip a few choice words as he named the insubordinate springs for their penurious qualities. With a sheepish apology he noticed her. He knew she was familiar with that sort of language since he had learned it from her father. Even so, she forced a frown and instructed him that he better watch it.

“Sorry,” he grimaced.

“Just don’t let it happen again,” she said trying to look tough. With a quick turn she held her mouth, trying not to let loose a rogue belly laugh.

David went back to his work giving the couch the most vicious silent treatment he could muster. By the time he finished, there lay piles of scattered, crumbled foam soaking water from the puddles of freshly hung laundry. Mingled with the yellow crumbs were eight black, partially straightened bars of steel that once functioned as springs, now clanking about the room.

David leaned back from his knees to his rump, supporting himself on the palms of his hands and surveyed the beaten, lumpy piece of furniture with satisfaction. For some reason, yanking its innards out had brought him a great sense of accomplishment, especially now that he had proven to be the victor.

Later that night he slept a little more peacefully, though his ribs still ached something fierce. Apparently not all of the pain was from the couch; some lasted as a lingering memento, courtesy of Gordon Thompson, the meanest rancher on the planet and father of David’s beautiful, albeit celibate wife.

After another week Linda’s face completely cleared of bruises. Though David’s ribs took a little longer, soon he too had healed, and was busy improvising solutions to several disruptions in productivity at work. Just like that, he found himself reassigned as a technician, learning skills in electrical wiring and mechanical engineering. With the realization that maybe he wasn’t an idiot after all, suddenly David began to wonder about school. The barracks were located only a few miles from the University of Washington, so transportation wouldn’t be a problem. The bigger issue was getting accepted, especially since he hadn’t graduated from high school. And then, of course, there was the money, not to mention Linda who had hated school with a passion. When it came down to it, the only thing that eventually swayed her was remembering how badly her father had wanted to be a scholar. As far as she could tell, missing out on college was the main reason he had become a drunk. With that in mind, she reluctantly agreed.

Thanks to David’s boyhood education at Mandolin, a few things he learned at St. Mary’s, and the studying he did on the ranch, he managed to do well enough on the high school equivalency tests and the college entry exam. But unfortunately, when he asked about scholarship opportunities, he was told that since he did not formally graduate from high school, despite his excellent marks on the tests, he would not be eligible for a scholarship until he had twenty-five credit hours under his belt. More than a little disappointed, he added up how much overtime he would need to make ends meet. With such staggering numbers, he knew things might get ugly. If only he were as brilliant as his mother believed all those years ago. He was going to need every last synapse.

By late January nineteen thirty-nine, after only a couple of weeks of classes, David was already feeling the strain.

“I thought you knew all of that stuff,” Linda teased. It was two fifty-two in the morning, and she had awakened to use the bathroom. Curious, she came around the side of the couch to see what he was studying. It was then that she realized how exhausted he was. “You’ve been at this for two weeks and already you look like death. I think you should go to bed.”

“I still have a few more problems to sort out.”

“When you said you were going to start college, you never mentioned working yourself into the ground.”

“But…” David attempted, though he was too tired to finish. He was hoping to pass out of first year algebra, though right now, he couldn’t remember why. His eyes were bloodshot and his mind was muddy. Tomorrow was the only day of the exam, and in order take the test, he had to take the day off work.

“No buts,” Linda insisted. “You need to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” he said and slid to the pillow. The circles under his eyes looked like shades over lampposts, and gave Linda an eerie sense of déjà vu. Instantly, she thought of their first meeting when he was sickly thin, begging for a job, and bathing in the canal. “I can sleep out here tonight,” she said. “It’s okay. You take the bed.”

“No!” David said, suddenly wide-awake. The last thing he wanted was for her to sleep on the couch. It was a dastardly thing. Quickly, he hunkered down on the short sofa. Linda had never realized that he couldn’t even stretch out his legs. Without another word, he turned off the lamp, drenching the room in blackness. “Night,” he said rolling onto his side.

“Good night,” Linda answered, going back to the bedroom where she couldn’t help noticing the ample space on the bed. With guilt flooding, she thought of the round-up when they spent two whole weeks alone together. David’s eyes were so alive in the crystal summer sun, and his bronzed skin rippled over muscles he’d spent a year building. His wavy hair looked like spun gold in the sun and she smiled as she remembered the curls that could only be seen when the wind blew the hair off his forehead. It was enough to make her sigh. Even now goose bumps went across her arm as she thought of the first haircut she had given him. Chemistry had sizzled between them back then. There was no sense denying it. Snuggling into the blankets, she thought of the way he smelled of salt and leather after a hard days work, their evening dip in the canal at the swimming hole, the way he helped her with her math, the night her father…

She closed her eyes remembering the gun. Her father and David had fought for ownership of the weapon, even as it fired, blowing bits off the ceiling to rain down upon them like hail. A scream … her scream. Lucy being drug to safety by their mother. David toppling over the backside of the couch. She had lunged forward then. Put herself between Gordon and David.

Wide-awake, she sat up. She must have loved him to do that. She must have.

As time drew on, Bev joined Linda as a partner in her laundry business. It was nice to have a friend again. Bev’s motherly aroma brought a sense of family to Linda’s broken heart, and between the dual machines at the manager’s office and Bev’s car, they got more than twice the work done, servicing the entire area as the plant expanded to meet government contracts. With the increased load, they rigged lines in the boiler room. The constant heat from the boiler dried the clothes at a rapid pace, speeding the process, not to mention less mess in their apartments. Likewise, Linda helped Bev with the managerial work and between the two of them, they made quite a team.

David was still hard at work, clawing his way through the scholastic arena as he put in shifts before, between, and after classes. Next on his agenda was the history achievement test, which was on the Monday of the next week. The prospect of passing out of another class would not only accelerate his graduation, but would also look good on his scholarship application, and add to his accumulated credits. So, for the next several weeks, he decided to take the early shift, starting work at five, giving him the bulk of the afternoon and evening to study.

“Got it all in there?” Linda asked in obvious reference to the thick history book he held cumbered beneath his nose.

“Mostly.”

“Good, because it’s getting late and I think you need more sleep.”

“I’m all right,” he said returning to the book. Linda had made fried baloney sandwiches for dinner after being paid in meat, rather than cash. Though he had appreciated the meal, he had taken far too long savoring the delicious meat and was feeling a little behind.

“Don’t you have another shift tomorrow at five?”

He nodded, still reading.

“It’s almost midnight. Time for bed.”

“Since when do you care about when I go to bed?” he said in reference to her recent interest in his sleeping habits.

“Since now. You’re going to get sick if you keep this up for much longer, and that won’t do either of us any good.”

“I don’t get sick.”

“I’d like to keep it that way, if you don’t mind. We need you functioning at peak efficiency around here.”

“Oh, really?” he smiled, hoping she was flirting the way she used to do.

“Yes, really. How else are we going to pay the rent?”

David’s face sank. It was foolish to think that she cared. “Okay,” he said disappointedly. “I’m almost done.”

Linda reached over, took the book, and set it aside. “Now.” She pulled him off the couch by the hand and ordered, “and you need to sleep in a bed, too.”

Not comprehending, his eyebrows scrunched. “Huh? But I thought—”

“Just don’t get any ideas, mister,” she complained, dragging him down the hall. Once in the bedroom, she set him on the bed and ordered, “Now, sleep.” With a smack, she hit the light and climbed into the other side of the bed.

“Linda?”

“What,” she complained with overt chastisement.

“My alarm clock is out there, and the light is on in the living room.”

With an overemphasized moan, she threw her legs out of bed and stomped back to the front room, retrieved the clock, turned out the light, and slapped the clock firmly into David’s hand with fanatical effort.

“Thanks,” he grinned at the extent of her drama.

“Sleep,” she ordered again.

He set the clock on the floor, happy to obey. He was really, really tired.

Once his breath evened, Linda rolled over and touched his hair, knowing that he was asleep. It had darkened a little in the months since they left the ranch. Without continual sun stripping the color out, the roots had grown in soft and tawny.

“Oliver Twitchell,” the postman had said over a year ago. “That boy has changed his name, not that it’s a crime, just makes you wonder if he’s committed one. That’s all.”

The words seemed to echo as she rolled away from him. A tear trickled from one eye and dribbled across her nose. Everything had turned out so unfair. If only he weren’t such a liar.

Chapter 3

The Haunting Past

Although David and Linda were sleeping in the same bed now, their lives certainly had not become intimate. Gradually over home repairs, plumbing, and cabinetry, they began to ease back into normal conversation. One weekend in early March they even scheduled a date, and both took the day off. Lazily, they spent the morning walking along the pier, going to various shops, Ye Old Curiosity Shop being their favorite. The shrunken heads and curious artifacts had them both marveling. Linda’s nose grew close to more than one exhibit as she tried to determine its authenticity.

“That can’t be real,” Linda exclaimed as she looked at the mummy.

David’s brow wrinkled. “I dunno. It looks pretty…” he squinted. “Ah, heck, I dunno.”

After that, they went to Ivars for lunch and had fish and chips and chowder. Linda couldn’t remember food ever tasting so good, and she didn’t even have to cook it!

Since the weather was so nice, with the seagulls flying overhead and the mist rolling off the Puget Sound, they decided to go back to the beach where they picked up seashells, sand dollars, and starfish along the sudsy water. David found a pile of kelp in the froth and began flinging clump after clump back into the ocean. Each bundle looked like rocks tied with ribbons to the ends. Linda couldn’t help laughing as the kelp fought him, frequently slopping around his arms and neck. After throwing several bunches into the water, he came back to the rock where she sat.

“Well,” he said, still huffing. “Let it not be said that I haven’t done my part to save wayward seaweed.”

She looked down trying to smother a laugh. “Yes. But the real question is, why?”

“It’s simple really,” he reasoned still puffing from the exertion. “It’s a vital skill.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I figure, if I can’t make it in the airplane business …” He paused to catch his breath again. “I’ll go into beach cleaning.”

“Beach cleaning?”

“Yup,” he puffed again, though less vigorously now. “Someone’s got to toss all these creatures back into the water. We don’t want any of them dying untimely deaths. They start smelling up the place.”

“You are so strange.”

“Maybe … But just the same,” he pointed at the ocean where he had tossed their collection of wealth for the day. “That lump of kelp and your starfish is thanking its lucky stars. Just be glad I didn’t let you take it home. There’s nothing as stinky as a dead starfish hanging out in the windowsill. I speak from experience.”

She shook her head, unable to contain a laugh.

David enjoyed the music in her happiness, and continued to smile broadly long after she had stopped laughing.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just smiling.”

Linda’s forehead wrinkled with self-consciousness.

“Hey,” David said abruptly. “Let’s catch a picture show. Bringing up Baby is playing, and Bev and Richard both said it was great. Besides, there’s no one like Katharine Hepburn when she’s acting kooky.”

“Throw in Cary Grant,” Linda winked, “and you’ve got a deal.”

“All right, all right,” David complained with feigned jealously. “Let’s go.”

Linda smiled when David came back from the ticket booth. It had been a long time since she’d been to the theater, but once the newsreels started, she had second thoughts. War planes, bombs, soldiers covered in muck, and crying children filled the screen as the announcer narrated one bad account after another. With each passing scene she grew sicker, especially when the glorified German army marched forward in perfect formation.

Why did they have to show so much of it? She didn’t want to see this. She had come for something light and cheery, but instead, the constant barrage of artillery shook her ears, threatening to vibrate the tiny bones loose. She tried to look away, but couldn’t; the reel was too loud. The war was everywhere, London, France, Italy. How could the United States hope to avoid it? Even David’s job was a testimonial to the horrific state of the world. Uncle Sam had ordered so many planes that Boeing struggled to keep up.

David inched forward in his seat as the huge crowds gathered in Germany shouting their allegiance to Hitler in rhythmic unison. For the time being, he was completely oblivious to Linda’s white face and clenched knuckles that practically squeezed imprints into the armrests.

“Let’s go,” she leaned over and whispered.

Realizing for the first time that she was upset, David nodded and stood to leave. Once outside the theater, Linda huddled into her coat trying to ward off the evening mist. Although it was still early, low clouds had brought the cover of nightfall by four in the afternoon.

“Are you okay?” David asked as they walked.

“Sure,” she lied. “Sorry about that. I just hate that sort of thing, the war and all.”

David nodded, pretending to understand. The truth was, he didn’t. He was very interested in the news and the superior army in Germany. Being so busy with work and school, he didn’t have many opportunities to catch up.

“I just don’t understand why people have to fight,” she complained. “It makes no sense.”

“Sometimes they fight to protect the ones they love.”

“I’m not talking about what you did for me.” It was the first time she had brought up that horrible night. Shaking her head to ward off the thought, she clarified, “I’m talking about countries.”

“So was I.”

“No. I totally disagree. If everyone would just mind their own business—”

“But see, that’s just the thing, Linda. They don’t. Sometimes people have to fight to defend their country.”

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