His own worries were more personal. He turned west off the highway toward Schofield Barracks, which he knew were nothing but wreckage, and, more to the point, toward his old apartment building, which he hoped was still there. A lot of the places around here were okay. The Japs must not have thought they could make much of a stand in this part of town.
There it was, battered but still standing. Just like me. Fletch started to shake. This was harder than anything he’d done since the first time he went into combat, with Japanese fighters and dive bombers blowing up everything in sight. And who says you’re not going into combat now? he asked himself.
Jane already blew up your heart.
ARMITAGE was still on the mailbox in the lobby. He climbed the stairs two at a time so he wouldn’t have time to think. By the time he got to the second floor, he was panting-he still wasn’t in great shape. But exercise wasn’t the only thing making his heart pound when he walked down the hall. He took a deep breath and knocked on what had been his own front door.
Maybe she wouldn’t be home… But he heard footsteps inside, so she was. The door opened. There she was, skinny (but who wasn’t skinny these days?) but still looking damn good to him. “Yes, Captain?”
she said-and then she did a double take right out of the Three Stooges. “My God! Fletch! My God!”
she squealed, and threw herself into his arms.
She didn’t feel skinny. He’d forgotten how a woman in his arms did feel. Finding out again was like three shots of bourbon on an empty stomach. When he kissed her, she kissed him back-for about three seconds before she twisted away. What had been intoxication curdled. “Hello, Jane,” he said sourly.
“Come in,” she said, looking down at her toes and not at him. “I’m sorry, Fletch. I know what you must be thinking. But that-wasn’t all about you, anyway.”
“Great,” he said, and she flinched as if he’d hit her. He did go in. The place didn’t look too different. It smelled of wood smoke, but she sure wouldn’t have been able to go on cooking with gas. “How are you?” he asked.
“I’m here,” she answered. “I saw you once, with those others…”
“I know. I saw you, too,” Fletch said. “I must have looked like hell.”
Jane nodded. “You did. I’m sorry, but you did. I didn’t think anything would be left of you in a little while.”
“Damn near wasn’t,” he said. “I was down to about a hundred pounds when the leathernecks raided the camp in Kapiolani Park and got me out.” He’d put some weight back on, but he still had a long way to go. “You made it, though. Way to go.”
“Way to go. Yeah. Sure.” Her laugh might have been dipped in vitriol. “Fletch…” She stopped, then muttered, “Well, you might as well hear it from me, because you’ll sure hear it.”
“Hear what?” he asked, ice forming in his belly. If she’d collaborated… He didn’t know what he’d do if she’d collaborated. Bust her in the chops and walk out, he supposed. Slam the door on this part of his life forever.
“They made me their whore,” she whispered. “Comfort woman, they called it. They stuck me in a brothel, and they made me… They made me fuck them and suck them, all comers welcome. There. Is that plain enough? I was doing that till the place got shelled and I could get away.”
“Oh,” he said, and then, “Oh, Jesus,” and then, “No wonder you didn’t want to kiss me.”
“No wonder at all,” Jane said bleakly. “Hawaii, the impregnable fortress of the Pacific.” Another acid-filled laugh. “What was impregnable was me, and it’s just dumb fucking luck-yeah, that’s what it is, all right-I’m not carrying some Jap’s bastard. I’d never know whose, either, ’cause there were too damn many to be sure.”
Fletch felt like sinking through the floor. There is a peculiar, horrible helplessness unique to the man who can’t protect his woman. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I’m so sorry.” Part of him knew that was irrational. He’d been a POW, at least as helpless as Jane, and she’d dumped him anyhow. But he’d also been a soldier, charged with defending Hawaii against the enemy. And he’d failed. The whole Army and Navy had failed, but he didn’t care about that. He’d failed. It was personal, which made it all the worse.
“That ought to take care of any silly foolishness about getting back together,” Jane said. “You won’t even want to look at me now, let alone touch me.”
“Hey,” Fletch said gently. Jane looked up in surprise-she must have thought he would stomp out of the place in disgust. He said, “I know all about what the Japs could make people do. They would have killed you if you didn’t. You think I don’t know that, too? I saw-plenty, believe me. Whatever you had to do, nobody’s gonna blame you for it. I sure don’t. You’ll probably end up a hero, babe, and go to the mainland and make speeches about what a bunch of bastards we’re fighting so people in war plants’ll buy more bonds.”
She stared at him. “You son of a bitch,” she said, and she started to cry.
“What the-devil did I do now?” he asked, honestly bewildered.
“If you’d just walked away, it would have been over,” Jane answered. “But you’re-you’re sweet to me.” She cried harder than ever. “What am I supposed to do now? Everything that has to do with common sense says I ought to finish what I started. But then you go and you act sweet. What am I supposed to do about that?”
“Would you rather I slapped you silly?” Fletch inquired.
His sarcasm rolled right off her, because she nodded. “You bet I would,” she answered. “If you did, I’d know where I stood-right where I always stood. It would be over. But this?” She stared at him again, blinking rapidly; her eye-lashes were wet. “Have you grown up? Did whatever the Japs did to you finally make you grow up?”
“I don’t know,” he said heavily. “All I know is, I didn’t die, and too many people did. No, I know one other thing-I never stopped loving you, for whatever you think that’s worth. I couldn’t do anything about it for weeks and months at a time, but I never stopped. Take it for what you think it’s worth.” He reached into his pocket. “I’d give you a drink if I had one, but all I’ve got are Luckies. Will a cigarette do?”
“Sweet Jesus, yes!” Jane exclaimed. “I’m getting the habit back, and I love it. There’ve been times when I thought about screwing a soldier for a pack. There really have. That’s the other side of the coin. After so many, what’s one more, especially when he’s on our side? After you do… what I had to do, it doesn’t mean what it used to.”
“No, I don’t suppose it would,” Fletch said. “Well, I’m not asking. Leave me a couple and keep the rest of the pack. I can get more.” When she took a Lucky between two fingers, he flipped a Zippo he’d got from a pharmacist’s mate and lit it for her. He fired one up for himself, too. He was also getting used to them again. The nicotine buzz hit harder than he remembered from the days before the war.
Jane’s cheeks hollowed as she sucked in smoke. “That’s so good,” she said, and then, cocking her head to one side, “What the dickens am I gonna do with you, Fletch?”
“It’s your call, honey,” he answered with a shrug that he hoped hid his own dreams. “I never wanted things to end. If you do… I guess I can’t stop you. Think about it, though. Don’t make up your mind right away. That’s all I ask. We’ve both been through-too much. There’s no rush. If you decide it’s over, it’s over. If you don’t, I’ll be here-till I get well enough to go back on active duty, anyhow.”
“That’s fair,” Jane said, her voice troubled. “That’s more than fair, I guess.”
“Okay, let’s leave it there, then.” Fletch looked around for an ashtray. Jane was doing the same thing. She went back to the kitchen and came out with a saucer. They both knocked off ash and then, before long, stubbed out their cigarettes. He climbed to his feet. “I better go. I’m glad you came through… however it happened.”
“Same to you.” Looking like a soldier advancing into machine-gun fire, she stepped forward and put her arms around him. He held her, not too tight. She put her chin up.