“I’ll keep it on.”
She raised up, said half mischievously, “It scratches.” She reached out and started to unbutton the shirt. His hands came up to stop her, but did not. She exclaimed poignantly, “You’ve been wounded!”
He unbuttoned the last two buttons, opened the shirt. She stared at his body. There were scars on his chest, his shoulders and his stomach. There were many, many of them, small scars, large ones. Some were white, where the wounds had completely healed, two or three were still red.
“That’s why you have all that back pay! You’ve been in the hospital for — months?”
He nodded.
“I didn’t know. You... you looked as if you’d been sick, but I didn’t guess — this.”
“I’m all right,” he said. “Actually, I’m leaving the hospital tomorrow. That’s... that’s why I came here tonight. I’m going back.”
“A last fling, a woman—”
He put his hand on her mouth, stopping the words. He pulled her to him, put both arms about her. She moved tightly against him. “I’m sorry, I won’t — be sarcastic again. I don’t want to be.”
“Do you mind the scars?”
She gasped a little. “Oh, no!”
His mouth found hers.
He lay on his back, looking at the flowered wallpaper ceiling. She pulled the sheet partly over him and got up from the bed. Going to the dresser she got a cigarette and lit it for him. She carried the cigarette to him and lay down beside him.
He said, “Why don’t you get under the sheet?”
She did and her hand sought his. “Talk, Captain, it’ll help.”
He inhaled smoke, let it sift out of his nostrils and his mouth.
“The girl, Captain! I’ve seen the wounds on your body, but I can’t see the one inside you — and that’s the serious one. What was her name?”
“Linda.”
“Linda. That means beautiful in Spanish. Was she beautiful?”
“Yes.”
“More beautiful than I? No — don’t answer that. The comparison isn’t a fair one.”
“I think it is. Her body, as I remember it, was almost as beautiful as yours. Her face, no.”
“Tell me about her. How old was she?”
“She’d be twenty-one now.”
“How did you meet her?”
“I met her in the registration office of the University. U.C.L.A., in Los Angeles. She was entering as a freshman.”
“And you?”
“I was signing up for the law course. It was four years ago.”
“Four years ago you were twenty-one.”
“Linda was seventeen then. We saw each other on the school campus. We dated.”
“Did you — were you intimate with her?”
She reached to the bedstand for an ashtray for him.
“Yes,” he said, “we were intimate. We were going to be married when I completed law school, but when we had known each other a little over a year, it was December, 1941.”
“You enlisted.”
“Of course. I was at Camp Ord and I saw her on weekends. Sometimes I went down to Los Angeles and sometimes she came up to see me. Or we met in San Francisco. In June of 1942 my regiment came to Hawaii.”
“I was here then,” she said. “I came out in ’38.”
“When you were sixteen?”
“It’s your life we’re talking about, Captain. Do I have to keep calling you Captain? It’s... it’s a little unusual, lying here in bed — and not knowing each other’s names.”
“Tom Alder.”
“Tom. I like it. My name is Helga.”
Her hand found his again. “You were in love with her, so you didn’t come to — to places like this. She wrote to you regularly.”
“For two years. Then I got her last letter.”
“Dear John.” There was mockery in the way she said it. His hand tightened about hers.
“I won’t ask you about the war,” Helga continued. “I don’t think you would tell me, anyway. You were wounded on some island and they brought you here to the hospital. That’s about as much as you’ll tell me, because you are still in love with her.”
“She’s married,” he said, then was silent a moment. “I suppose I will always love her.”
“Of course. You’re that kind of a man. Would you like to sleep a while?”
“Would you mind — very much?”
“I think I would like it very much if you slept a little while. I... I won’t go away.”
The pressure of the hand that held hers increased a little. But soon it relaxed. She turned to look at his face. His eyes were closed, his breathing was deep, regular.
She remained beside him for more than a half hour, her eyes never once leaving his face. Then she slipped quietly out of bed. He did not move. She sat down in the armchair. After a moment, she brought her feet up on the edge of the chair. She locked her arms about her knees and resting her chin on the knees, studied him.
Once her head lifted and she looked at the fifty dollars on the dresser.
She returned her eyes to him, again rested her chin on her knees.
After long moments her mouth opened a little. She said so softly that he could not have heard her, even if he had been awake, “This is the man!”
She got up and moved quietly into bed beside him. He stirred a little and her arms went around him. He did not awaken. After a long time, she slept too.
When he opened his eyes in the morning, she was seated in the chair, wearing a padded kimono of raw Chinese silk. Their eyes met. He smiled a little.
“Hello.”
“You look better,” she said. “Rested.”
“It’s the best sleep I’ve had since—”
“Since you got the letter.”
He regarded her steadily. “It’s morning, but that doesn’t mean that I am different, or that you are.”
She got to her feet and looked down at him. “I’m giving you your chance.”
“Do you think I would take it?”
She sat down on the bed, but did not touch him. His hand reached to her, went under her kimono. She said, “Tom, I really don’t know as much about things as I — as I should. I’m saying that wrong. I think I know, but — is it just that with you?”
“If I said it was?”
“Why, I guess it would be all right, because I — like you and—”
“You like me?”
She lay down beside him. His arms went about her and he pulled her close. “Is like the word you want to say?”
“No,” she whispered, “I know the word but I’m afraid to use it. I don’t know how. I... I never have.”
He was quiet for a moment, then he said gently, “Helga, I’m as awkward as you are. I’ll try to tell you how I feel and maybe it’ll help us both. You’re a beautiful and very desirable girl. I’m a normal man and my desires are very normal. When I look at you and touch you I feel warm toward you — and passionate. But also I feel a tenderness and affection.” He paused. “Do you feel any of that?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “I do, and — that is what confuses me... because I never have before.” Her mouth found his. Her arms went about his head, held him tightly. And after awhile she was able to say the words she wanted to say. And he said them to her.
At eight o’clock the next evening, Helga, wearing her evening gown once more, entered the lounge. Her eyes searched the room for a moment, held on a girl and a sailor at the far side of the room, then moved swiftly to the bar.
He was there.
She went to him at once. “You came!”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I wanted you to come.” Her hand touched his arm. He took it and they went to her room.