The silence of the house shouted. The floor creaked as he made his way into the front room. It was dark and cool. The soft tick of a clock whispered. Luke stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do. Where should he look?
He checked the coat closet. It contained a wool coat, children's jackets and sweaters, and a car coat. A pair of boots sat in a corner of the closet. The blue sweater Kekili had worn the night they'd met wasn't there. Was it usually?
As if he might offend the stillness of the house, he moved slowly and quietly to a bedroom. The bed was made, its white spread unruffled. A bathrobe hung from a hook on the inside of the bedroom door. A book lay on the bed stand. Luke picked it up and glanced at the title. “Hmm, Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.” He thumbed through the pages and stopped at a bookmark, which had been placed between pages 220 and 221. He returned the book to the bed stand and took a peek into another bedroom, which was crowded with two beds and a mishmash of children's and adult belongings. Finally, with more questions than answers, he headed toward the back door. After taking a final look around the kitchen, he stepped outside and walked down the street.
Something was wrong. Kekili hadn't been to work. He'd already checked there. Remembering Kekili's gentle eyes, her steadiness, her beauty, Luke couldn't imagine her dead. “Not her, Lord,” he said. “Someone like her shouldn't die.”
His mood heavy, Luke forced his feet to move. Maybe she was at a friend's or in the hospital. He decided to check the local shelters and the hospital. She might be a patient, or maybe she was helping care for the injured. With little hope, he limped toward the nearest emergency clinic.
Walking into the sunshine and leaving the last of several shelters, Luke wondered what to do next. There was no place else to search. She was gone. I barely knew her. She was just someone to make me less lonely for an evening, he told himself. He thought his feelings callous and wondered if already the war had changed him. Had he seen too much violence, too much viciousness, too much suffering? Only one battle had taken place. What would happen after a campaign of battles?
He headed for the base hospital to see Barry, thinking he'd check again to see if a civilian named Kekili was a patient. His thoughts moved to Mattie. What was she doing now that the country was at war? She must be frightened. He needed to see her.
Guilt touched him. What would she think if she knew he'd spent the day searching for a beautiful Hawaiian girl? He felt as if he'd been unfaithful. How can I be disloyal to someone who doesn't want me? he chided himself, deep sorrow knifing him. Mattie was the only one for him. Maybe with what's happened she'll change her mind and wait for me. Nothing's the way it was.
Even now, as the truth of the world's circumstances hit him, fear and disbelief spiked through Luke. Germany and Italy had declared war on the United States, and the world was truly at war.
Nothing would ever be the same.
Walking into the base hospital, he inwardly recoiled at the smell of antiseptics, medications, and what he guessed to be the odor of decaying wounds and blood. He strode down the hallway, doing his best to ignore the moans emerging from bandaged bodies in the rooms he passed.
I hope Barry's better, he thought. The last time he'd seen him, his friend was barely recognizable. His face had been badly bruised and swollen, and Barry hadn't even known Luke was there. Drugs had been doing their job of blotting out pain and the world.
Luke stopped just outside his friend's door, took a steadying breath, then walked in. Barry slept in a nearly upright position in the third bed from the door. He still looked as if he'd been beaten, but the swelling had decreased. Luke glanced at the other beds as he passed. One man slept, another stared, his head swathed in bandages.
Luke didn't want to see more and kept his eyes on Barry. He stood over his friend, the screams of the dying and injured echoing in his mind. So many had died.
Breathing deeply and evenly, Barry didn't move. He'll probably sleep for hours, Luke decided. I'll come back later. He turned to go.
“So, you're gonna' walk out on me, huh?” Barry croaked.
Luke stopped and turned back. “I thought you were asleep.”
Peering through a blackened eye, Barry pushed himself up slightly with his good arm and good leg. “Who can sleep?” He glanced at his injured limbs.
“You feeling better?”
“Yeah. A little. I could use some company. It's pretty boring here in zombie land.” He glanced at the other patients. “I think I'm in the best shape here.” Barry nodded at a chair beside his bed. “Have a seat.”
Luke obeyed. “You look better.”
“Yeah? Better than what? Those Japs shot me up pretty good.” Barry's usual jovial expression was absent. Instead his mouth was set and his eyes hard. “I can't wait to show them Nips just how I feel.”
“We'll get our chance,” Luke said. “There's already talk of repairing the Nevada.”
“When do you think that'll be? I thought she'd been run aground and was pretty much a scrap heap.”
“She's bad, but they figure she'll sail again. I don't know how long it'll take. The word is she'll be dry-docked in Bremerton for a while.”
“I'm not waiting around. Once I'm out of this hospital I'm back on duty. I've got a score to settle.”
“I already put in for a transfer. No word yet though.” Luke gave Barry a once-over. “I'd say you've got a ways to go before you're ready to ship out.”
“Doc says I'll heal up in no time.” He glanced at Luke's leg. “So, how are you feeling?”
“Better than you.” He rested his hand on his wounded arm. “Nothing but flesh wounds. I'm nearly good as new. Leg's a little sore, but it's healing. My injuries aren't bad enough to keep me from returning to duty. We'll show those Japs who we are,” he said through gritted teeth. He glanced at the windows. “They shot up everything. A lot of guys died, and not just military personnel.” He looked at his hands. “I went by Kekili's place. She's not there. I searched everywhere.”
Neither man spoke for a moment, then Barry asked, “Is a list of casualties posted?”
“Yeah, but I don't know if civilians are on it. There's probably a separate list for them.”
“It'll be in the paper,” Barry said, his voice weary.
“Hard to believe someone as first-rate as her could be dead.”
Barry nodded.
“We've got friends dead too,” Luke added bitterly, the screams of bombs and dying men echoing through his mind. “One minute a person's here—alive and breathing, and the next…” He shook his head. “I'll never understand it.”
“Maybe she'll turn up,” Barry said. “Maybe she went back to her home. Didn't you say she grew up on one of the other islands?”
“Yeah. I hope you're right.”
A nurse walked in and approached Barry. “Time for your medication.” She smiled at Luke, her blue eyes sparkling. She seemed too cheerful. Handing Barry a small glass and two pills, she said, “These will make you feel much better.”
“Just in time,” Barry said, taking the pills.
