«By who? I thought you were the head doctor.»
«By a fellow practitioner of the Freudian medical arts. Who enjoys, I think I should warn you, his reputation as one mean sonofabitch. Excuse me, Janice.»
«In other words, this luxury hotel is a funny farm?»
«No. But the Navy wants to make absolutely sure that you are in possession of your faculties before you are turned loose on the public. They don't, for example, want you to slit the throat of your friendly neighborhood policeman because you think he is a Japanese soldier.»
«Jim,» Janice said, «some of the men who have gone through what you have gone through are really disturbed.»
He looked at her, and found her compassion-filled eyes both disconcerting and pleasing.
That is not a professional, be-nice-to-the-loony look. I think she really likes me. By «really disturbed» Janice means loony tune time. I suppose that explains the ambulance and the two Corpsmen at the airport, and those two gorillas who took me to Ward Five-B.
«I'm not disturbed,» he said.
«No,» Dr. Kister said, «you're not. But the obstetrician in the Navy Department doesn't want to take any chances. From his point of view, he's just taking a routine precaution. And he has the authority.»
«Damn!»
«So you will undergo at least four sessions of counseling and evaluation at the Greenbrier over a thirty-day period. Then you will return here, and presuming you can convince Dr. Bolemann that you pose no threat to the cop on the beat, or anyone else, I will be able to certify you as both physically and psychologically fit for flight status. Then you will go to Pensacola, Florida, where, according to General Mclnerney, you will be taught to fly all over again.»
«Jesus.»
«And I also have for you some advice from General Mclnerney—actually, it's more in the way of an order. You will do what you're told and keep your mouth shut. Are there any questions, Captain?»
«No, sir,» Weston said. «Thanks, Doc.»
«Nothing to thank me for,» Commander Kister said. «I would have done whatever was necessary to get you out of my smooth-running hospital, and get you away from my nurses.» Janice chuckled.
«Can I drive to this place? Or is Janice going to take me there, strapped down to a stretcher in the back of an ambulance?»
«You could, if you had a car,» Commander Kister said. «You don't, do you?»
«I was thinking of buying one,» Weston said.
«I can see some problems with that,» Kister said. «For one thing, have you got a driver's license?»
«I think mine has probably expired,» Weston said.
«I'll bet it has,» Kister said, chuckling. «Don't tell me you've been carrying it around all this time? In the steaming jungles of Mindanao?»
«No,» Weston said, chuckling. «I'm going to have to get one.»
«I could take you for your test,» Janice said. «They give the test in Fairmount Park.»
«Next problem, Doctor?» Weston asked, smiling at her.
«There's gasoline and tire rationing,» Kister said. «The war, you know.»
«I can deal with that,» Weston said.
«And there is a nationwide thirty-five-mph speed limit,» Kister said.
«Now, there's a problem,» Weston said.
«Why the hell do you want a car?» Kister asked.
«So I can drive from this luxury funny farm you're sending me—«
»
I'm
not sending you,» Kister interrupted. «A
grateful nation
is sending you. So far as I'm concerned, I'd put you to work. You've had a whole year off, lying around a tropical paradise, eating pineapples.»
«And other interesting tropical fruit. Not much meat, but all the pineapples I could eat.»
«Really?» Janice asked.
«This time, really really,» he said. «We operated around the Dole pineapple plantations.»
«It obviously didn't hurt you any,» Kister said. «Maybe you should consider becoming a vegetarian.»
«While I was munching on my pineapple, I used to have a dream. There I was, riding down the highway in my convertible Buick, with a pretty girl smiling at me. The girl, if you must know, looked much like this fine young Naval officer.»
«In the unlikely event that you're serious, you could probably get a deal on a Buick convertible.»
«Is that so?»
«They guzzle gas. Gas is rationed. And this is the middle of the winter. No one in his right mind wants a gas-guzzling Buick convertible in the middle of the winter.»
«You've convinced me,» Weston said. «A Buick convertible it is.»
«We're back to 'why do you need a car?' «
«So I can drive up here on weekends and see Janice,» Weston said.
Kister's eyes swiveled back and forth between them.
Janice blushed.
«1 think the time has come for me to fold my tent and silently steal away,» Commander Kister said.
«Oh, doctor, don't go, please,» Janice said.
«Okay,» Kister said. «The three of us can go out and have a lobster.»
He waited, with a straight face, until he saw the anguished looks on their faces. Then he chuckled, slapped Weston on the back, and walked out of the bar.
note 22
The Marquis de Lafayette Suite
The Foster Lafayette Hotel
Washington, D.C.
I900 17 February 1943
Captain Kenneth R. McCoy, USMCR, was dozing when the telephone rang. He was almost instantly awake, but for a moment didn't know where he was. A moment later he did realize where he was, and also realized that Ernie wasn't in the bed with him. As he sat up and swung his feet out of the bed, he reached for the bedside telephone. The bathroom door was open, he noticed then, and Ernie was standing in it, naked except for a towel wrapped around her waist. She had another towel in her hand. As he watched, she resumed drying her hair with it.
«I was wondering if you were going to answer that,» she said.
My God, she's beautiful!
«I must have dropped off,» he said, and picked up the telephone.
«Lieutenant McCoy,» he said.
«That's
Captain
McCoy, I think. Why don't you write that on the back of your hand?» Captain Edward Sessions, USMC, said.
«I guess I'm not used to being a captain,» McCoy said. «What's up, Ed?»
Ernie was now leaning on the door, listening to the conversation. Dressed as she was, wearing nothing but the towel around her waist, and with most of her left leg peeking out through the flap in the towel, she was incredibly erotic. Even if she didn't mean to be.
Or is she doing that because she knows damned well how it will excite me?
«I've been appointed officer-in-charge of getting you off on your presidentially directed administrative leave,» Sessions said.
«Which means what?»
«I've got your orders, new ID card, new credentials, et cetera, et cetera.»
«You've been busy.»
«And money. Another partial pay.»