"Hi," the young man said shyly. He was in uniform, and his gold lieutenant's bars shone in the light from the house.
Debbie Winston screamed and hugged the man at her door, then covered his face with kisses, which he urgently returned.
"Wow," 2nd Lt. Paul Morrell said when they finally broke for air. "Just think, I was worried that you might not be glad to see me." Debbie stopped any further attempt at conversation by again covering his face with kisses while she dragged him into the living room.
The clamor had brought the rest of Debbie's family, and they greeted Paul warmly with hugs and handshakes. Debbie's mother asked him if he had seen his own family, and he assured her that he had, and that he had just come from there. Then they sat him on the couch with Debbie beside him with her arm entwined with his.
"How much time do you have?" Debbie asked, dreading the answer.
"Only a couple of hours. A friend of mine is picking me up and driving me downtown to the train station." He laughed. "I'm not supposed to be here at all. The army flew me from Germany to England, and then from England to New York. My orders say I'm to take the most direct route to San Francisco, and then overseas. I guess they want me in a hurry. I saw a lot of other officers getting the same treatment. However, I just figured that the war would wait a little bit or, better yet, go on without me."
Debbie's mother stood. A whimsical smile was on her face. "Two hours? Somehow I think you two want to spend it alone and not talking to us." She grabbed her husband and Debbie's younger brother and steered them out of the room.
Debbie took Paul's hands in hers and kneaded them in quiet desperation, as if willing them to stay. "Paul, it isn't fair. You shouldn't be going to fight the Japanese. Didn't you do enough in Germany?"
He put his arm around her and pulled her to him. It was a hot evening and she was wearing only a blouse and skirt cut short because of the wartime shortage of materials. He could feel the warmth and tantalizing smoothness of her skin underneath her clothing, and her slender legs were gorgeous.
"Apparently not," he managed to say. "A whole lot of people are being sent from Europe to the Pacific." He decided not to tell her about the incident in Germany that had caused him to be put on the levy to fight the Japs. No need disturbing her with accounts of his own stupidity. "I'm just hoping it's over by the time I get there. Even if everything moves according to somebody's schedule, I don't see how we can do anything about Japan for several months. Of course, maybe if we drop a few more atom bombs on them, there won't be anything left to invade."
She nodded into his chest, conscious that she was staining his khaki uniform with her tears. She was trying not to cry but it was futile. News of the continued war had hit home with a bulletin that said yet another atomic bomb had been dropped on Japan, this one on a place called Kokura. Kokura sounded like a bird calling, not a city that had just been wiped off the face of the earth.
"Paul, it was so terrible here after the peace collapsed. Everybody had been celebrating victory, and then the rug was pulled out from under our feet and the crash was sickening. Instead of your coming home to me, we all realized that soldiers were still going to be shipped overseas to fight and maybe die. There was a lot of rioting here, and a lot of people were killed in downtown. Would you believe someone even smashed the window at Ginsberg's store and stole a couch? Mr. Ginsberg tried to make a joke of it by saying it was an ugly piece of furniture and that the thief had no taste, but I could tell he was shaken by it. Did you know that the governor declared martial law because of all the killings around the riverfront? There was even a curfew for a few days and everyone stayed home or got arrested. I just never believed it could happen here in the United States."
"I know," he said sadly. "I saw a lot of it in the barracks with men getting murderously drunk and then going into town simply to break things and hurt people. It was like the whole world had gone crazy with anger and everyone felt they'd been cheated out of the rest of their lives. Since I was an officer, they had me trying to settle things down and take charge. Funny, but what I really wanted to do was join them and break some stuff myself."
Debbie lifted her head and they kissed again. She was sobbing and realized he was crying softly as well. "Paul, I'm so scared for you. Somehow I thought that your going in the army was a lark, and I was playing at being the brave but lonely woman waiting at home for her man while you marched off with your uniform never getting dirty. After all, the Germans surrendered just after you got there, and then the Japs were going to give up. Now I'm scared that I might actually lose you."
Her voice broke and her chest heaved. "I just want you to come back to me."
Debbie did not add that she wanted him there so she could resolve her own doubts about their future. When he was with her, she was confident that she was in love with him. When he was gone from her, she wondered whether she was doing the right thing by continuing their long-distance romance. She gave no thought, however, to telling him of her doubts this evening.
Paul took a deep breath. "I love you," he said, and they kissed again. "And I am coming back." Then he grinned through his anguish. "Damn, I am glad I took this little detour even though it means I'm going to be late reporting."
"Can you get in trouble?"
He chuckled wryly. "Yeah, maybe they'll fire me. Wouldn't that be a shame?"
She laughed. "Come outside." She took his hand and led him out to the backyard. He smiled as he saw Debbie's family's car, tireless and propped up on cement blocks, testimony to the shortage of rubber and the rationing of gas. Debbie's father took the bus or trolley to work and had been selling his gas-ration coupons in return for other items. It wasn't legal, but everyone was doing it.
Some patio furniture was underneath a tree, and they sat on a porch swing, rocking gently.
It was amazing, he thought, but her entire family seemed to have disappeared. He wondered if they were peering through windows at them and didn't give a damn. His own parents had wished for him to stay and spend what little time he had left with them, but they understood his need to see Debbie before he headed on to the West Coast. Both his parents had been weeping when he left them, but this was the worst departure of all.
"Do you want to get married?" Debbie asked softly, surprised at her own boldness and wondering if she really meant it. "We could run off to Kentucky and get married right away. I know some people who've done it."
He held her even more tightly. "I want to marry you more than anything in the world, but not until I return." And in one piece, he thought. "You're much too young to be a war widow and I won't wish that on you."
"Don't even think like that," she gasped. "Even my brother, Ronnie, is starting to talk like death is just around the corner. He'll be eighteen in a few months and now they're talking like he won't even get to finish high school before he gets drafted. My God, Paul, now they're taking babies in the draft! Isn't anybody left? Ronnie's scared and I don't blame him. I'm terrified for both of you."
Paul wondered what it was like in Japan. Were they drafting children the way the Germans did? He'd seen so many little boys in German uniforms, pretending they were soldiers, but using real bullets. Some were only ten or eleven years old, and a number of them had been killed or wounded by Americans who didn't stop to ask their age. An enemy soldier with a gun was a threat, no matter how old he was. It occurred to Paul that the winner of this awful war might just be the last country with anyone left standing.