she knew would leave bruises. Twisting in his hold, she yelled, “Stop it! You’re hurting me.”
“Oh, come on. Where’s that big smile you gave me while we were dancing?”
“You’re sick! Let go of me!”
Responding swiftly, he yanked her closer.
She smelled his sour breath as his whiskered chin scraped the side of her face. “Let go of me,” she hollered, pushing with her arms and jabbing at him with her knees and elbows.
He growled, “So the bitch likes it rough,” and grabbed her breast in a vise-like grip.
The pain made her whimper and Max moaned. He searched for her mouth with his slobbering tongue, but she whipped her head from side to side.
He clamped down on her ear with his teeth.
In agony, she froze.
He kissed her ear and the base of her throat and started peeling back the top of her dress.
She inhaled sharply and flailed with the hand still holding her shoes, aiming for his face, adrenalin surging. She swung hard; the sharp heel found its target.
Max staggered and fell backward, letting Margie go. He covered his face with his hand and cursed in Italian.
Margie ran through the sand toward the lights of the hotel. Shivering, she huddled in a stall in the ladies’ room, counting to 100, then to 1,000. When she felt able, she fixed her face, ear, hair, and dress as best as she could with trembling hands and damp towels.
She found Royce, and told him she was tired and not feeling well. She’d had too much to eat and drink. She wanted to leave. Tonight, she wanted to be alone in her own bed.
Holding an ice bag to soothe her burning ear, she cried tears of self-recrimination. She shouldn’t have gone to the beach alone. Hurt quickly turned to anger. Bastard! Unable to lie still, she paced around. Damn bastard! She knew the truth for sure now, and she would tell Evelyn everything. She would show Evelyn her bloody, bitten ear and then it would be good riddance, Mr. Mysterious!
Evelyn will be devastated.
Margie cried harder at the thought of hurting her friend.
She slept fitfully, rumors of invasion mingling with vivid dreams of Helen at Camp John Hay surrounded by Japs slitting throats and eating ears. She bolted upright, her heart pounding, and her stomach pitching. She threw up on the floor by the bed.
Chapter 10
Manila, December 8, 1941
Margie skimmed the headlines in the morning newspaper: Germany and Russia continued to battle over Moscow; President Roosevelt had appealed to the Emperor of Japan for peace. Putting the paper aside, she went to the buffet and selected a breakfast of cereal, fruit, and coffee. The war seemed far away. She had other things on her mind.
She had avoided Evelyn since the night of the dance and dreaded their next meeting. She rehearsed the likely conversation a hundred times in her mind, never once finding a happy ending. Max wore an eye patch, telling everyone he’d walked into a low-hanging tree branch. Serves him right, she thought as she touched her ear, still tender from his bite.
Outside the window, she saw Tildy, long-legged and panting, running across the lawn. With a small head and slicked back hair, she resembled Olive Oyl, Popeye’s lanky girlfriend. She burst through the side door screaming, “The Japs are bombing Pearl Harbor!”
The women sat like statues, stunned. Gracie, doll-faced and chubby, looked out at the sky, but there was nothing to see, not even a wisp of clouds. “Do you think they’ll come here?” She chewed on the tip of her thumbnail.
Margie heard whimpering: she turned to see Karen weeping into a napkin. She rubbed Karen’s back and leaned over to hug her. “We’ll be okay.”
Eyes glistening with tears, Karen shook her head. “My fiancé is at Pearl. He’s on the Arizona .”
Margie had friends in Honolulu too, and she wanted to believe them safe. She said, “He’ll be all right. Honolulu’s a fortress.”
Three night-shift nurses arrived for breakfast and a smoke
“Oh, come on. Where’s that big smile you gave me while we were dancing?”
“You’re sick! Let go of me!”
Responding swiftly, he yanked her closer.
She smelled his sour breath as his whiskered chin scraped the side of her face. “Let go of me,” she hollered, pushing with her arms and jabbing at him with her knees and elbows.
He growled, “So the bitch likes it rough,” and grabbed her breast in a vise-like grip.
The pain made her whimper and Max moaned. He searched for her mouth with his slobbering tongue, but she whipped her head from side to side.
He clamped down on her ear with his teeth.
In agony, she froze.
He kissed her ear and the base of her throat and started peeling back the top of her dress.
She inhaled sharply and flailed with the hand still holding her shoes, aiming for his face, adrenalin surging. She swung hard; the sharp heel found its target.
Max staggered and fell backward, letting Margie go. He covered his face with his hand and cursed in Italian.
Margie ran through the sand toward the lights of the hotel. Shivering, she huddled in a stall in the ladies’ room, counting to 100, then to 1,000. When she felt able, she fixed her face, ear, hair, and dress as best as she could with trembling hands and damp towels.
She found Royce, and told him she was tired and not feeling well. She’d had too much to eat and drink. She wanted to leave. Tonight, she wanted to be alone in her own bed.
Holding an ice bag to soothe her burning ear, she cried tears of self-recrimination. She shouldn’t have gone to the beach alone. Hurt quickly turned to anger. Bastard! Unable to lie still, she paced around. Damn bastard! She knew the truth for sure now, and she would tell Evelyn everything. She would show Evelyn her bloody, bitten ear and then it would be good riddance, Mr. Mysterious!
Evelyn will be devastated.
Margie cried harder at the thought of hurting her friend.
She slept fitfully, rumors of invasion mingling with vivid dreams of Helen at Camp John Hay surrounded by Japs slitting throats and eating ears. She bolted upright, her heart pounding, and her stomach pitching. She threw up on the floor by the bed.
Chapter 10
Manila, December 8, 1941
Margie skimmed the headlines in the morning newspaper: Germany and Russia continued to battle over Moscow; President Roosevelt had appealed to the Emperor of Japan for peace. Putting the paper aside, she went to the buffet and selected a breakfast of cereal, fruit, and coffee. The war seemed far away. She had other things on her mind.
She had avoided Evelyn since the night of the dance and dreaded their next meeting. She rehearsed the likely conversation a hundred times in her mind, never once finding a happy ending. Max wore an eye patch, telling everyone he’d walked into a low-hanging tree branch. Serves him right, she thought as she touched her ear, still tender from his bite.
Outside the window, she saw Tildy, long-legged and panting, running across the lawn. With a small head and slicked back hair, she resembled Olive Oyl, Popeye’s lanky girlfriend. She burst through the side door screaming, “The Japs are bombing Pearl Harbor!”
The women sat like statues, stunned. Gracie, doll-faced and chubby, looked out at the sky, but there was nothing to see, not even a wisp of clouds. “Do you think they’ll come here?” She chewed on the tip of her thumbnail.
Margie heard whimpering: she turned to see Karen weeping into a napkin. She rubbed Karen’s back and leaned over to hug her. “We’ll be okay.”
Eyes glistening with tears, Karen shook her head. “My fiancé is at Pearl. He’s on the Arizona .”
Margie had friends in Honolulu too, and she wanted to believe them safe. She said, “He’ll be all right. Honolulu’s a fortress.”
Three night-shift nurses arrived for breakfast and a smoke
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