Lovely War(96)
James watched as Hazel kicked at the rolling spray.
“You’re not really here, are you?” says James. “This is part of my madness?”
“Does it matter?” asked Frank. “If it’s madness telling you to marry that girl and be happy, whose advice would you rather have?”
“We’re a bit young, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t say you had to do it tomorrow,” said Frank. “Do you feel young?”
“No,” admitted James.
“She’ll make you feel young again.”
“I don’t even know how to make it through a day,” James said.
“Nobody does,” said Frank. “But that girl, there, will help you.”
He felt a firm hand push between his shoulder blades. He stumbled forward in the sand.
APHRODITE
For a terrible moment Hazel thought James had abandoned her. She couldn’t see him. Her skirts sank into the waves, soaking up cold water and clinging to her legs. Then, suddenly, there he was, before her, in trousers rolled-up to the knees and sleeves to the elbows, with his shirt open.
She was seized with a desire to inspect these new bits of James now on display.
He took her face in his hands. Her heart caught in her throat at the pain in his expression.
“You know that I can never be the boy you used to know.”
She pulled away from his hands. “But that’s who I see,” she said. “The only boy I see.”
He closed his eyes tightly. “What I’ve done, and what I’ve seen, will always be with me.”
This was the last time she would make this plea. “Let me, too, always be with you.”
He stood there, saying nothing, for longer than she could bear to wait.
She turned toward the sand and headed ashore.
James ran to her then and stood in her path. Before she could speak, I sent a little wave pushing her into him, and she fell into his arms. James only barely braced himself in time to keep them both from toppling over.
The feel of her body pressed against his went through him like an electric shock. When she righted herself and pulled away, he pulled her back to him and held her close, spinning her around and around. Her toes drew circles around him in the sunlight on the water.
ACT FIVE
APHRODITE
The Battle of Henry Johnson—June 5, 1918
BACK IN PARIS, Colette picked up shifts at a café. One morning, while swabbing tables, she noticed a newspaper left behind and ringed with coffee. She was about to toss it when a headline caught her eye: “La Bataille d’Henry Johnson, Héros Nègre Américain! 24 Allemands Tués!”
She abandoned her customers and devoured the article. It told of the heroics of one Henry Johnson, a black American soldier from New York State, who had bravely fought off a large German raiding party. He was a member of the 369e Régiment d’Infanterie US, attached to the French Fourth Army, under the command of General Henri Gouraud, and stationed in the Meuse-Argonne sector. This division, the article mentioned, was famous for its remarkable band.
She dropped into a chair. Her heart thumped and her head flooded. Hope, her dread enemy, came pounding at the door.
Colette ignored customers whose coffee had grown cool. She propped her elbows on the dirty table and tried to think. Aubrey had belonged to the 15th New York National Guard. Could it possibly be the same division? Or were there dozens of black divisions in the American army, all with remarkable bands?
But what if it was Aubrey’s regiment? He was dead.
His commanding officer, at least, could confirm that to her. She might still spend the rest of her nights lying awake, but it wouldn’t be wondering. Not if she knew for sure.
Colette could handle the truth. She knew that much about herself.
The battle had taken place a few weeks prior, in May. It was now mid-June. They might still be there. It was worth a letter to find out.
APHRODITE
Medical Review Board—July 1, 1918
THE MEDICAL REVIEW board in Chelmsford declared James to be improving. A great deal of eating, dancing, and laughing were apparently the tonic he’d needed. He received orders to report for retraining on July 15.
Everything had changed. He had no desire to go back to war and die for Bobby. He wanted to live for Bobby, and for Maggie, and especially for Hazel. Nights became harder again, as scenes from the trenches stalked his sleep. But when morning came, he pulled himself together. Why waste sunny summer days with a lovely girl by your side? Seize the day.
Hazel hated the news, hated it, but it was still two weeks out. They’d had two weeks already. She determined to enjoy these remaining weeks without fear.
After all, the news reports were very hopeful. The Allies had managed to stop all four major German advances thus far this spring. The Germans hadn’t reached the Channel, and Britain’s naval blockade of Germany still held. The Americans were finally exerting their strength. What the Americans lacked in experience, they made up for triply in morale, in supplies, and in seemingly limitless numbers. The tide was turning. It had to be turning. The rest of the war would be brief, and James would come home safely, and soon.