“You mean because you're an Indian?” Meryl asked incredulously.
Mattie nodded.
“You're very pretty and quite nice. Why would anyone not like you? I'd trade my curls and hazel eyes any day for your straight, black hair and brown eyes.”
“My being native doesn't bother you?”
“For heaven's sake, no.”
Mattie smiled, momentarily happy with the world. Maybe it was true. Maybe all she'd needed to do was leave Alaska.
“You don't have to worry about that sort of thing. Down here people don't pay much attention. You'll fit in just fine.” Meryl studied her nails. “Course, if I was native I'd be proud of it. I'd want everyone to know.”
“No you wouldn't. You don't know what it's like. People look down on you; they think you're lazy, a thief, unclean.”
“Really? Seems barbaric to me.” Meryl buffed her nails on the front of her coat.
Mattie studied the dock. A smattering of people waited. The horn blasted, and dockworkers prepared to secure the ship.
“We better get our bags,” Meryl said. Her step light, she headed for her room. Glancing over her shoulder, she called, “I'll meet you at the bottom of the gangplank.”
“All right,” Mattie said, thankful she had a friend in this new world. Now that she'd arrived, the idea of challenging a city this size was intimidating. She'd hate to do it alone. Quickly taking the stairs, she hurried down a dimly lit corridor and burst into her room. Grabbing the two small bags she'd packed earlier, she headed back to the upper deck. Crossing the catwalk, she watched the wash below, her heart hammering. This was it, a new beginning!
Twenty minutes passed before Meryl appeared. Her silk skirt swirled away from her legs as she nearly skipped across the footbridge. A man followed, pushing a cart piled with bags.
“I was beginning to worry you'd gotten lost,” Mattie teased.
“Isn't it exciting?” Meryl took in the activity around them, her eyes finally settling on a longshoreman. He was tall and broad chested, with thick arms and wavy blond hair. “There are so many good-looking men here,” she whispered, her eyes continuing to take in the scenery.
Mattie hadn't really noticed. Her mind was on finding the YWCA and getting around the city.
“Let's take a cab,” Meryl said. “There's one there.” She nodded at a taxi parked on the street.
“I thought you didn't have any money.”
“Oh, I have a little. At least enough for a ride.” She fairly pranced to the car and looked in the window at the cabby. “We need a ride to the YWCA. My bags are over there,” she said, nodding toward the pile of luggage and climbing into the car. Scowling, the driver retrieved the bags and dropped them in the trunk.
Mattie added hers. “Can you take us to the YWCA, please?”
“Yeah. The YWCA.” He closed the trunk and climbed in behind the wheel while Mattie slid onto the seat beside Meryl. “You got money?” the cabby asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Of course we've got money,” Meryl said.
“All right.” The driver flipped on the meter and pulled into traffic.
Meryl and Mattie settled back and gazed at buildings stacked alongside the streets. Pedestrians jostled for space on the sidewalks and swarmed across intersections. As they moved away from the docks, automobile traffic became more congested. Cars, trucks, and buses crowded the road.
Mattie tried to relax, but the honking and revving engines set her on edge. She didn't like the smell either. It was a peculiar combination of the harbor, exhaust, and baked goods. Suddenly feeling misplaced, Mattie wished she were home and wondered if this was all a big mistake.
The cab stopped in front of a simple brick building. “This is it,” the driver said and stepped out. He unloaded the bags and set them on the sidewalk, then held out his hand for his fare. “That'll be four bits.”
Meryl dug in her purse, came up with the coins, and dropped them into his hand. “Have a good day,” she said brightly, then turned to Mattie and took her arm, steering her toward the building.
Mattie glanced at the luggage still sitting where the driver had left it. “What about our suitcases?”
“Don't worry about that. Someone will get them.”
Mattie doubted the YWCA had bellboys, but she didn't want to argue.
“We need to get settled, change our clothes, and go and see some of this city. There are great clubs with good music and good-looking men.”
Mattie was tired and would have preferred making an early night of it, but she didn't want to disappoint Meryl, so she simply smiled and said, “OK. Sounds like fun.”
Meryl was shocked that they had to retrieve their own bags, but in good humor she helped haul them up the stairs to their room. It was simple—two bunks, a plain wooden table with an ancient-looking lamp, and a closet. Meryl asked, “So, where do you want to go?”
Feeling slightly more adventurous, Mattie said, “Anywhere is fine with me.”
Meryl guided her out the door and down the stairs. “It's time for some fun.” She laughed. “I can't wait to show you what life is really like.”
Chapter 9
A MIX OF RAIN AND SNOW GREETED LUKE AS HE STEPPED OFF A NAVY TRANSPORT and walked across the tarmac at Boeing Field. Huddling inside his pea coat, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he headed toward the terminal. This is a far cry from Oahu, he thought, glancing at a gray ceiling.
Luke didn't really care about the weather; all that mattered was Mattie. She was in Seattle, and he was here to see her. He had only three days before he had to report to the USS Wasp. I hope she'll talk to me, he thought, pushing through a door. Almost immediately his eyes landed on a telephone booth. Working out a plan for the day, he headed toward it. He'd call a taxi to take him to Mattie's, then get settled in a hotel. Luke had managed to get her address from her mother. Although Mrs. Lawson had warned him that Mattie didn't want to see him, he was determined to make it happen. I can't go into this war without talking to her.
Luke thumbed through a telephone directory, stopping at the ad for a local taxi service. After talking to a dispatcher, he walked outside to wait for his ride. The wet snow mixed with rain was still falling, so he pressed his back against the building, sheltering himself beneath a narrow wedge of roof.
He hadn't been waiting long when a cab pulled up, splashing through a puddle and spattering his dress blues. He heaved the bag into the back of the taxi, climbed in, and wiped at his wool pants.
