Home at last, p.19
Home at Last, page 19
Reaching out blindly, he sought a handhold. Nothing. The next moment he felt heat and took a deep gulp of air before plunging through the flames and beneath the surface. Pushing upward with his arms, he forced himself to stay below the waterline. He opened his eyes. They stung intensely and his skin throbbed. Above, on the surface, all he could see were flames. Fire was everywhere. His lungs screamed for oxygen. I can't die like this! Not like this—cooked in a sea of oil!
Desperate, he sought an opening free of flames and thought he spotted one. It was several yards away. He'd never make it. Pulling with his arms and kicking as hard as he could, he swam toward the haven. His lungs felt as if they would burst. He had to breathe—NOW!
Luke broke through the surface and gulped heated oxygen saturated with oil fumes. He choked and coughed. His throat and lungs felt like fire. He swam in a circle, seeking a way out. He was trapped. At any moment the flames would engulf him.
“Help!” he called, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Help!”
He had no chance. His life would end at Guadalcanal. He turned hurting eyes toward the ship. It sat low in front, enveloped by flames and smoke. Soon it would sink.
Mattie's face hung in his mind. He'd never hold her again, never call her his wife. This is what she'd feared. “I'm sorry, Mattie,” he whispered.
Treading water, his thoughts turned to his family—to Susie, Brian, Laurel, and his mother. He even thought of Ray—who didn't seem so evil at this moment. Luke had never mended the relationship. Now it was too late.
Flames creeped across the surface of the water toward him. He tried to swim away but had no place to go. Fire and oil were everywhere. He searched for a raft and made another feeble plea for help. Paddling in a circle, he sought a way out. Fire burned his face, and he dunked beneath the waves to cool his blistered skin.
There was no escape.
Chapter 19
LUKE IS GONE, MATTIE THOUGHT, AWAKING FROM A FITFUL SLEEP. SHE ADJUSTED a small pillow she'd placed against the train window. Resettling her cheek against it, she watched a white world slide past. The hours and miles since leaving Seattle had not eased her grief. She'd hoped that docking in Seward would bring comfort, that being on Alaskan soil might bring a reprieve from the anguish that gnawed at her insides, but she experienced no reprieve. Alaska may have been home, but changing locations did not relieve her suffering.
I should have married him. Tears burned her eyes. Oh, Luke, I'm so sorry. I loved you. I did. I do. She sniffled and wiped away what seemed like endless tears. I made a terrible mistake. Now it's too late.
She grabbed a handkerchief she'd tucked inside her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes and nose. Not marrying Luke hadn't helped at all. In fact, Mattie was sure it made her sorrow more profound.
She studied a grove of ice-encased trees. Limbs, twisted and tangled, looked like hideous groping creatures—distorted and aching like Mattie's heart. She leaned her face against the cold glass. Life hurt too much. She didn't want to live.
Like a tortured slave, Mattie's anguish remained, seeming to deepen with each passing mile. She thought she knew now what the term “weeping and gnashing of teeth” meant. Nothing existed except the heartache. Like a caged animal, Mattie prowled the car, searching for an escape from her grief. She could not break free of it. Finally she returned to her seat.
Mama, I need you. She envisioned home. It couldn't be far now. Things would be better there. Mattie turned her eyes to the mountains, expecting to find the sense of wonder they'd always brought. Nothing. She felt nothing.
The train slowed, and Mattie watched Palmer move past. It had grown, become a real town. Of course, compared to Seattle it was little more than a hamlet, but for now that was fine with Mattie. She didn't need the restlessness of the city.
Mattie thought about Meryl, who had been so worried about Mattie that she'd wanted to accompany her. It hadn't seemed right to drag Meryl from her life while she sorted out her own. Mattie had insisted she would be fine. Now she wished Meryl were here, helping her to forget.
The train lurched to a stop. Mattie stood, retrieved her bags off the rack above her, and moved down the aisle. She wondered who would meet her. A visit home should have been a joyous occasion. If only this were just a visit like any other. Maybe if I pretend, it will seem so.
Stepping off the train, she glanced about. A man about the same height and weight as Luke and dressed in a navy uniform stood with his back to her. Mattie's heart fluttered. He's alive! The sailor turned. Mattie held her breath. It was someone else. Her emotions tumbled, and the ache inside her swelled.
“Mattie,” someone called.
She turned and saw Celeste striding toward her. Celeste? Mattie hadn't expected her. They hadn't been especially close.
Her blue eyes vibrant as ever, Celeste grabbed Mattie in a bear hug. “How wonderful to see you! We've missed you!”
“I've missed you too,” Mattie managed to say. She spotted Laurel and dropped her bags.
“Mattie!” Laurel said and hurried to her friend, catching her in her arms. “I'm so glad you're here.” They clung to each other.
Mattie felt Laurel's strength and became stronger.
Finally they stepped back and looked at one another. “You look good for a city girl,” Laurel teased.
“I liked the city,” Mattie said and managed a smile.
Laurel's eyes turned serious. “It's good to have you home.” Wiping away a tear, she said, “We've missed you.”
Celeste picked up the bags. “Your mother and grandmother are beside themselves. They're so excited. They've been preparing all week.”
“I can't wait to see them.”
“They would have come, but it's hard for your grandmother to get out so we volunteered to escort you.” Laurel threw an arm around Mattie's shoulders. She gave her a tight squeeze. “Oh, it's so good to have you here.”
“It feels good to be here,” Mattie said, meaning it. She glanced around and was reminded of the many good times she'd had here. It was strange she'd forgotten them.
Laurel's expression was serious. “I know it's hard to believe that something good is going to happen, but don't give up hope. He might be alive.”
“I pray so.”
“I think he is,” Celeste said.
“His ship went down, and he's missing. Where could he be?” Mattie asked, unable to believe.
After a cumbersome pause, Laurel said, “We must keep praying. I have a feeling. I don't think he's gone.”
“What about Adam? Is he all right?”
Laurel's expression turned stoic. “We haven't heard anything.”
“I'm so sorry.” Mattie rested a hand on Laurel's arm. “I wish this war would end.”
“Me too.” Laurel patted Mattie's hand. “God is in control. Adam and Luke are in his care.”
Mattie looked at Celeste. “What about Robert?”
“I just got a letter from him. He's fighting in Africa, but there are rumors that his division is being sent to Italy soon. Maybe the war will be over before then,” she said, making an effort to sound cheerful. She looped her arm through Mattie's. “We better get you home.”
The three women climbed into Laurel's pickup and headed out of town. Mattie studied the heavy snow on the mountains and the white fields. “Looks like winter's early.”
“It's been cold, and as you can see, the snows have come.” Laurel gripped the steering wheel as they bounced over a mound.
“In October, anything can happen,” Celeste said. “It could warm up and we might have an Indian Summer.”
“It's been colder than usual in Seattle. 'Course, they get more rain than anything else.” Laurel watched the icy road slide beneath the front of the truck. “Have you had news about the war in the Aleutians?”
“Oh, yes. It's awful,” Celeste said. “The Japanese have occupied Kiska, Attu, and Unalaska. The government managed to evacuate a lot of people, but some were taken prisoner. It's frightening. We've been practicing drills just in case.”
“I prayed for you all the time you were on the ship,” Laurel said. “It doesn't seem safe to be traveling in the Pacific.”
“I was a little scared,” Mattie admitted, “but we took the Inside Passage and it's supposed to be safe.” She wiped fog from the window. “Why do there have to be wars anyway?”
“I don't know,” Laurel said. “We all wish it would be over.” She glanced at Mattie. “I believe Adam and Luke are alive.”
“How can you know?”
“I just feel it. If they were gone, I'd know. I have to believe.” Her eyes glistened. “William talks about his father all the time.” She smiled. “He's made him into a real war hero.”
Silence settled over the cab.
Celeste ended the quiet. “So, Mattie, are you going to stay for good?”
“I don't know. Maybe, I really do like Seattle.”
“What's it like?”
“Big and beautiful. The city sits right on a large bay called Puget Sound, and it's much warmer there though it does rain a lot. The city has lots of tall buildings, clubs where you can listen to bands and dance, and lots of movie houses. Outside the city the countryside is real pretty, with forests, lots of mountain ranges and a big mountain called Mount Rainier. It's beautiful, but nothing like McKinley.”
“Are the people different?” Celeste asked.
“Different, how?”
“Well, I know you wanted to live in a place where people treated you better.”
“Most of the people didn't seem to even notice that I was native. Some did, but it was better than here.” Looking at Laurel, she added, “You were right, though. I couldn't run away from my heritage.”
A crease furrowed Laurel's brow. “I'm sorry. I wish it had been better for you.”
“It wasn't bad there. I liked it, very much.”
Laurel offered a small smile. “Well, we're glad to have you back home.”
“Their loss, our gain.” Celeste smiled.
“Thanks.”
Laurel turned the pickup into Mattie's drive and stopped. The dilapidated cabin didn't look as bad as Mattie had remembered. It was tiny and run-down but appeared tidy and hospitable. The front door opened immediately, and her mother stepped out. Her grandmother followed, her hands folded over her chest. Their eyes filled with love and expectation, the two women hurried toward the truck, Atuska shuffling.
Mattie's spirits climbed. Opening the door, she said, “Thanks for picking me up. I'll see you.” She climbed out, grabbed her bags out of the back, and set them on the ground just in time to step into a much-needed embrace. “Oh, Mama,” Mattie hugged her mother tightly. “I missed you.”
Her grandmother rested a hand on her granddaughter's back, and Mattie turned to the old woman, enfolding her in her arms. Atuska's soft cheek rested against Mattie's. She could feel the wetness of her grandmother's tears. “It's so good to be home.”
Her grandmother took a step back and gazed at her. The old woman's eyes shimmered, nearly disappearing in the folds of her skin. “It is right that you are here. I am thanking God for bringing you back to us.”
“Me too,” Mattie said, realizing that the pain she'd carried with her all the way from Seattle had eased. She began to believe she had hope for happiness again.
Affia circled an arm around her daughter's waist and hugged her as they walked. “I knew you would come back.”
“Mama, I don't know for sure that I'm going to stay.”
“You'll stay,” her grandmother said, wearing a playful smile. Her eyes rounded into half moons. “I know my Mattie. She could not leave for good.”
“We'll see,” Mattie said, wondering if she was ready to completely surrender.
Luke carefully shifted from one hip to the other. The more hours he spent in bed, the more his body ached. His face throbbed, and he gently pressed on the bandages swathing them. He'd been burned and wondered how bad the scarring would be. The doctor had assured him the burns weren't deep and would heal. At least when he got home he wouldn't shock his family; he just wished he knew where home was and who his family was. And even more, he wished he knew who he was.
Holding up his hand, he studied it. He had neither a wedding ring nor a mark where one might have been. Who and where was his family? He concentrated, trying to remember. Nothing.
No one knew to whom he belonged. He'd been fished out of the ocean when the Wasp sank, but he had no dog tags or other ID on him. He lay unconscious for days, and no one came forward to identify him. Of course, it was difficult to identify someone whose face was hidden by bandages. He wondered if anyone in the military hospital would know him once the bandages came off. Unfortunately for Luke, most of the survivors from the ship had already been sent home or reassigned. Some had been sent to other hospitals. If only he could remember.
Days passed, and Luke's dressings were removed. Although his skin looked red and sore, the scarring was minimal.
No one knew him. He'd asked every conscious patient in the hospital. People were beginning to think he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. Why couldn't he even remember his own name? With each passing day Luke felt more lost, as if he'd been set afloat in some great ocean—alone.
The doctor told him the amnesia would resolve itself in its own way and its own time. Luke wanted an answer now. His body had regained its health, his scars were healing, and he'd soon be shipped back to the States. If he didn't remember by then, he hoped that being in his own country would help.
The trouble was, even the idea of returning to the States was unsettling to him. He didn't know anyone there. Where would he go? Who would he contact? At least here he knew the doctors and nurses and was comfortable with his surroundings. It felt like a safe harbor.
“So, how're you doing today?” the company chaplain asked, sitting in a chair beside Luke's bed. He smiled, his eyes warm.
“OK, I guess.”
“You remember anything?”
“Nothing. It's discouraging. How long will it take?”
“Can't say, son. Our brains are mysterious things. Only God knows.”
“What if I never remember, and my life is gone forever?”
“That's very unlikely. But if it were to happen, you'd begin again and build a new life.”
Luke shook his head. “I don't want a new life. I want my life.”
“I know, I know.” The reverend stood. “It will happen in God's time. He knows you, where you came from, and where you're going. He'll see to it that you get where he wants you to be.”
“I believe you, but I don't know why. I can't remember. Do I know God?”
The chaplain smiled, his blue eyes crinkling. “Sounds to me like you do.” He took Luke's hand. “Let's pray together. That all right with you?”
“Sure.”
The chaplain closed his eyes.
Luke closed his, thinking, God, please tell me who I am.
“Dear Father in heaven,” the chaplain began. “We thank you for being a loving father to us, a father who never takes his eyes off his children. You know our sitting down and our rising up. You understand our thoughts. You know our paths and our lying down. You know all our ways.” He paused, as if contemplating the power of an all-seeing God. “Father, although this young man feels alone, he's not. Help him to know and understand that you are with him. And, Father, you know the right time for him to remember. While he waits, fill him with your peace.
“Father, I also pray for those who love and miss him. His family doesn't know what has become of him. Their sorrow must be great. Comfort them. Assure them he is well, and give them peace as they wait.”
The chaplain paused. “Lord, I pray also for all the young men and women who are fighting in this war. Keep your hand of love and protection upon each one. Carry them through the battles safely, and when it is all finished, carry them home.
“I pray for your intervention in this war. It is ugly and vile. Our enemy, Satan, is gloating, but not forever. You are the destroyer of evil. Help each of us to love and to forgive our enemies. I pray that all humankind will know your love. Amen.”
Luke felt a stab of hatred for the Japanese. It was a familiar sensation, and he tried to hang onto it, hoping it might reveal a piece of his lost memory. The feeling quickly evaporated, and once more, he felt cut off. Luke looked at the chaplain. “I hope your prayer works. I don't know how long I can take not knowing who I am.”
The chaplain stood. “God hears us, and he will answer. It may not be in the way we want or the time we want, but he'll do what is best.”
“Why did you pray for our enemies? They're the ones who put me in here.”
“They're part of God's creation too. The men and women fighting on the other side also have families, people who care. They matter to God. And he tells us to love our enemies.”
Luke knew he'd heard the words before. He peered into his mind and tried to remember, but he couldn't. Still, he knew the words were significant. Maybe reading the Bible would help. He looked at the chaplain. “Do you have a Bible I could borrow?”
“Sure. I'll bring one over later today.”
“Figure I ought to read up on God so I can know if I want to believe in him or not.”
The minister smiled. “Sounds like a good idea.” He moved on to the next bed.
Luke clung to the peace he felt while in the chaplain's presence. He didn't feel quite so alone. God, if you're real, help me. Please.
Chapter 20
ADAM, ELISA, AND ADIN STOOD ON A RISE OVERLOOKING THE TOWN OF Abbeville, which lay in a valley with the Somme River flowing through. Adam imagined that on a bright day it probably looked inviting. Today, however, a drizzle soaked the landscape and draped the town in a murky haze.
The three travelers were drenched and cold to the core. Poor Adin shivered and snuggled against Adam's chest, but he could do little to help the boy. Adam's skin was goose-fleshed and cold. He eyed a nearby farmhouse. Smoke trailed into the sky from a stone chimney, and lights glowed within. He imagined himself and his comrades inside, sitting before the hearth and eating a bowl of hot soup with warm bread.
