EIGHT

Seeing where Harper Benton lived, the girls understood how she could so easily transfer out of Black Cat Ridge High and over to Codderville High: the street they’d turned on to paralleled the Texas Colorado River, which was the boundary line that separated the two school districts. Although this street was on the BCR side of the river, it wouldn’t take too much red tape to move to Codderville High.

There was a small community lining the river, mostly single-wide trailers with a few shacks thrown in. The address for the Bentons showed a double-wide trailer in better condition than the rest, sitting on a lot of at least a couple of acres, with well-tended flower beds just coming into bloom. There was a carport that housed an ancient but well-kept Toyota Celica. The pick-up from the night before was missing.

‘So the brother’s gone! We know that for sure!’ Megan said, bouncing up and down in her seat as Bess drove past the double wide.

The non-river side of the street was empty, save for a boat repair shop that appeared to be closed on Sunday. There were a couple of cars in the lot, but judging by the four flattened tires on one and the open hood exposing an empty interior on the other, the girls figured nobody was home. Bess pulled in and parked next to the tire-challenged car.

‘Good thinking,’ Megan said, patting her sister on the arm. ‘We can surveil to our heart’s content!’

‘Surveil—’ both her sisters said at once.

‘Is not a verb!’ Megan said, cutting them off and glaring at her sisters. ‘Well, if it isn’t, it should be! And that’s not the point! The point is—’

‘The point is,’ Bess interrupted, ‘we still don’t know if the mother’s home. I would assume that’s her car …’ She stopped abruptly and turned around in her seat to face Alicia. ‘Does Harper have her own car?’

Alicia shrugged. ‘As you may have gleaned from our earlier telephone conversation, we were never that close.’

‘Well, we still have to err on the side of caution and assume that is the mother’s car. So we also have to assume that the mother is still home.’

‘You know what they say about “assume,” don’t you?’ Megan said.

Both her sisters sighed. ‘Yes, Megan, we know.’

Not one to give an inch, Megan said, ‘Assume makes an “ass” out of “u” and “me”!’

Bess turned to Alicia and rolled her eyes. Turning back to Megan, she said, ‘OK, E.J., Junior., what do you propose we do now? Barge into the house, guns blazing? Use our non-existent glass cutter to cut our way through the back door? Oh, I know, hire a helicopter with a rope and a big hook and tear the roof off, then we can repel inside!’

‘You are getting on my last nerve!’ Megan said, teeth clenched.

‘OK, you two,’ Alicia, who had become used to playing referee with her foster sisters, said from the back seat. ‘Why don’t we just “surveil” for a little while. See if we can see the mother. See if anyone goes in or out.’

‘Works for me,’ Bess said.

‘Whatever!’ Megan said, folding her arms over her chest and staring out the side window. Unfortunately for her, it was the side away from the Bentons’ double wide.

They sat in silence for close to twenty minutes before they saw a side door open and Harper Benton come out.

‘OMG, she really is pregnant!’ Megan said, staring at the girl as she headed to the Celica under the carport.

‘She looks so cute!’ Alicia said, grinning.

And she did. Barely five foot two, her curly blonde tresses reaching her hips, Harper carried her pregnancy all in the front, no extra girth in her buttocks or legs or chest. Just a cute round mound covered by a gauzy hip-length top over blue jeans. She got in the driver’s side of the Celica, started the car and peeled out of the driveway at an alarming rate of speed, before Bess had even turned the key in the ignition of the minivan.

‘Hurry!’ Megan said, pounding Bess on the arm. ‘We’re gonna lose her!’

‘Ouch!’ Bess said, hitting Megan back.

‘Really, Bess,’ Alicia said from the back seat. ‘Hurry!’

‘I am hurrying!’ she said as she slammed the gearshift into reverse, backed up and headed out of the parking lot of the boat repair shop.

They caught up to Harper as she turned onto the highway, heading across the river into Codderville.

‘Where’s she going?’ Megan demanded.

‘How in the world would I know?’ Bess demanded back. ‘I’m following her, for gawd’s sake! She appears to be going to Codderville!’

‘Well, that’s pretty obvious!’ Megan shot back as Harper’s car took the main exit into the town they were very familiar with – their grandmother and now their brother lived there.

‘When we’re through following her, maybe we can go by Grandma’s. I bet she’s got dinner almost—’ Megan started.

But Alicia answered with a resounding ‘No!’

Bess used the rearview mirror to look at her foster sister. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked. She turned to look at Megan. ‘What do you know that I don’t know?’

‘Just watch the road! Look, she’s turning!’ Megan said.

Harper turned into a strip shopping center about two miles from the interstate. Bess passed the entrance and turned on to the next street, which ran by the side of the strip mall. She stopped the minivan and the three watched as Harper got out of the Celica and headed into a dress shop.

They sat there for what seemed a very long time, before Bess brought them back to an earlier issue. ‘So what’s going on?’ she said, turning from one sister to the next and giving them both the evil eye.

‘What?’ Megan said. ‘Jeez, Bess, what’s got your panties in a twist?’

Bess stared at Alicia. ‘Why don’t you want to go by Grandma’s house?’ she asked.

‘Oh, that!’ Megan said. ‘Graham’s pissed Alicia won’t do the nasty with him so he’s saying he’s going back to UT and that they should date other people.’

‘Megan!’ Alicia yelled.

‘What?’ Megan asked, innocence personified. ‘You wanted me to keep this from Bess? I can’t do that! We’re sisters!’

‘Whatever,’ Alicia said, sinking back into the second row of seating.

‘And,’ Megan said, again facing Bess, ‘Alicia’s afraid it’s a good idea, that maybe she doesn’t love-love Graham, but maybe she brother-loves him, ya know?’

‘I’m dying here,’ Alicia mumbled from the back seat.

Bess turned around in her seat. ‘Is this true? Has he been sexually harassing you?’

‘We’re supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, right?’ Alicia said. ‘I don’t know a boyfriend in school who isn’t either already getting some or trying like mad to. And even the boys who don’t have girlfriends only think about one thing.’

Megan nodded her head. ‘You’re right. All teenage boys are sex fiends. It’s something to do with hormones.’

Bess’s shoulders straightened and she said with some dignity, ‘Logan’s not like that!’

‘The hell he isn’t!’ Alicia, who never, ever cursed, said from the back seat. ‘After what I saw last night, that’s all he’s thinking about!’

Megan looked wide-eyed at Alicia, then turned her gaze on Bess, her eyes turning into slits. ‘So what happened last night? Are you still a virgin or not?’

Bess turned blood red and stared straight out the front window. ‘We kissed. That’s all! Jeez, you two! Can’t a girl get kissed without all this drama?’

‘Well, you know what kissing leads to!’ Alicia said, then burst into tears.

Both her sisters were on her in a heartbeat. ‘Oh, Alicia, I’m so sorry!’ Bess said. ‘This thing with Graham must be awful for you! Should we call Mom?’

‘She doesn’t want to bother Mom,’ Megan said, patting Alicia’s arm. ‘But I bet if we tell Grandma, she’d put the fear of God into him!’

‘Or poison his food!’ Alicia said, still wailing.

‘Maybe a little laxative in a brownie, but nothing fatal, I’m sure,’ Megan said.

‘It’s bad enough that you two know my shame! I don’t want anyone else to!’ Alicia got out between sobs.

‘Shame?’ Bess said. ‘What shame? Your boyfriend’s an asshole and somehow that’s your fault? You’re not sure if this is the right relationship for you, and you’re to blame for what? Being smart?’

‘What’s that line in that movie Speed?’ Megan asked. ‘Where Keanu Reaves says something about relationships that start out with bad stuff happening don’t do well.’

‘It was Sandra Bullock. And it’s not “bad stuff happening” – it’s something like relationships happening in “intense circumstances,”’ Bess said.

‘Whatever,’ Megan retorted. ‘All I’m saying is you both got real intense’ – she glared at Bess – ‘when you got kidnapped, and it was like a false foundation for a relationship.’

Bess nodded and slapped Megan on the arm. ‘Good one, Megs.’ Turning to Alicia, she said, ‘She’s right. Maybe someday y’all will find a way back to each other, when he’s more mature, but right now, I think him going back to UT and both of you seeing other people might be a good idea.’

Alicia sighed and dried her eyes and wiped her nose on the hem of her T-shirt. ‘All I know is I’m not going to be doing any dating! I’ve had it with guys!’

‘You gonna go lesbo?’ Megan asked.

‘Jeez, Megan!’ Bess said. ‘You say one sensitive thing and it’s just too much for you, huh? You have to go crass! And it’s not “lesbo,” it’s lesbian. I doubt they like being called “lesbos,” any more than gay men like being called … well, you know, those other bad words. Not to mention it’s not a choice, or haven’t you heard?’

‘Lordy, I didn’t know you were the politically correct police!’ Megan said.

Bess made a face and frowned at her sister. ‘Tell you what, let’s ask Mom when they get back.’

‘Oh, gawd no! Don’t turn me in to the pinko-liberal police! You’re bad enough!’

‘I’m gonna tell Mom—’

Alicia sighed. ‘Stop it, y’all. Why do you think she’s still in there?’ she asked, staring at the store Harper had disappeared into.

‘You think she knew we were following her so she went in there and went out the back door?’ Megan asked.

‘And leave her car?’ Bess asked.

‘Could have,’ Megan said.

‘Maybe we should go in and check,’ Alicia said.

Both Megan and Bess turned to look at their foster sister. ‘And we know who that has to be,’ Bess said.

‘Yup,’ Megan agreed and grinned.

Willis didn’t stay long on his so-called walk. He came back disgusted that the bar was showing the 1947 Army–Navy game. The living room was still cordoned off with official yellow police tape, so Willis and I headed upstairs, leaving Miss Hutchins in the kitchen, puttering around. Once in our room, I told him about the possible theft of the pitcher and basin, and my idea that the person who took it may have also been the person making the grrrrrrrrrr-plopping sound in the hall.

Rrrrrrrrrrr-thump,’ he corrected.

‘No! Definitely grrrrrrrrrr-plop.’

He sighed. ‘There’s just no arguing with you. You always think you’re right!’

‘Because I usually am!’ I said. ‘Anyway, I have an idea.’

‘Another one?’ he said, his tone implying that my ideas were less than stellar. An opinion I begged to differ with.

‘You go out in the hall and drag a piece of furniture toward the staircase and I’ll see if it’s the same sound.’

My dutiful husband sank down on the bed, hands behind his head. ‘I’ve got a better idea. You do it,’ he said.

I laid down next to him on the bed, put an arm across his chest, smiled up at him and began tickling him. Willis hates to be tickled. He says it hurts. I think it only hurts his manly pride. A big guy like him giggling and squirming makes him feel less than masculine. Again, I begged to differ. I thought it was just plain cute, but still, knowing his hatred of tickling, I knew doing it would get me the desired result.

He jumped off the bed. ‘Stop that!’ he said.

‘While you’re up,’ I said, stretching languidly, ‘go drag a piece of furniture down the hall.’

‘If you promise never to tickle me again! Ever!’

I thought about it for a moment. ‘I can’t promise not ever, but I can promise not while we’re here in Peaceful. And I also promise to make you very happy later tonight.’

He didn’t think about it nearly as long as I had. ‘Deal!’ he said and headed out the door, shutting it behind him.

I snuggled into the bed, laying on the side that I usually used to fall asleep, trying to as accurately as possible recreate the scene from the night before. Then I heard a sound. Scritch, scritch, scritch.

I got up and went to the door. He was pulling a medium-sized table down the hall. Behind him I could see a lamp and several knick-knacks on the floor. ‘That’s not it,’ I said. ‘Put that back – and the stuff back on it! – and grab something else.’

I could hear him sigh as I went back in the bedroom and shut the door. I hopped back on the bed and turned on my side. A few minutes later I heard: bump, bump, bump. My turn to sigh. I got up and opened the door. It was a large chest of drawers and Willis was moving it by walking it down the hall. ‘Not that way!’ I said.

‘Jeez Louise!’ he said. ‘I can’t even drag furniture right?’

‘But you’re not dragging it! You’re walking it! Try dragging it!’ I said and hurried back into the room. I wasn’t even in bed yet when I heard the sound from the hall. More scritch, scritch, scritch. I sighed and opened the door. ‘Not it,’ I said.

‘I’m through with this!’ Willis said and walked past me into our room.

‘You’re just going to leave that there?’ I accused, looking at the large chest of drawers right in front of our doorway.

Flopping down on the bed, Willis said, ‘If you want it moved I suggest you do it!’

I glared at his back as he’d turned away from me and curled into a loose fetal position. Sighing as loudly as possible, I went into the hall and began to wrestle the huge piece of furniture back to where it came from. Willis had been right in the first place: walking it was much easier than dragging. I saw a darker shade of wallpaper in the right size to fit the chest, and walked it into place.

Diamond Lovesy’s door burst open. ‘What in the hell is going on here?’ she demanded. ‘I’m trying to rest! I’ve been through an ordeal!’

I just looked at her. There was a smidge of white powder by her nostrils, her eyes were bloodshot and she was talking fast. Back in my college days I had a roommate who was a big fan of cocaine. Looked to me like Diamond might be a fan herself.

‘You high?’ I asked her.

‘What?’ she said, too loudly. ‘No! Of course not! I’m grieving!’

‘That doesn’t mean you didn’t take something to ease the pain.’ I walked up to her and touched the powder under her nostril. She reared back and slapped my hand.

‘Don’t you dare touch me!’ she screamed, which brought my husband out of our room in a flash.

‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, staring daggers at Diamond. He’s very protective of me and the kids. Sometimes it’s annoying. But sometimes it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. This was one of those warm and fuzzy times.

‘Your wife was making so much noise I couldn’t rest!’ Diamond yelled.

‘I think it might be the cocaine that stopped you from resting,’ I said. ‘It’s a stimulant, you know. Not what I would recommend for resting or even grief. I think a nice-sized doobie would do the trick.’

‘You brought cocaine into this house?’ Willis demanded.

‘No! Of course not!’ Diamond said, backing up to her door.

‘Maybe we should look inside—’ Willis started.

But before he could finish his sentence, Diamond Lovesy was back in her room, her door slammed in our faces.

Willis grinned at me. ‘If there was any coke left, I think it will be flushed soon.’

I fitted my arm into the crook of his. ‘You’re just wasteful!’ I said, grinning back.

BACK HOME

‘But she already knows we’re up to something!’ Alicia said, holding on tight to the door handle of the minivan, lest one of her sisters – Megan – were to jerk it open and pull her out.

‘Alicia, don’t be an idiot!’ Megan said. ‘You just happened to go into the same store she’s in! What’s the big deal? Just apologize for your earlier call, say you didn’t mean to offend and start looking at clothes.’

‘Did y’all not notice this is a plus-size store? Why would I be going to a plus-size store?’

Alicia, who couldn’t weigh more than one hundred and ten pounds, said to Megan, ‘You should go in! At least you’re closer to plus size than I am!’

‘Am not!’ retorted Megan.

‘Yes, you are!’ Bess said. ‘What are you now? Like a fourteen? They have fourteens at plus-size stores, I betcha!’

‘I’m a twelve!’ Megan all but shouted.

‘Ha!’ Bess said. ‘In your dreams!’

‘Can you wear a fourteen?’ Alicia asked. ‘I know it would be loose on you, but could you do it?’ Having started the great plus-size debate, she was attempting to mollify Megan and get her to go inside.

‘I suppose,’ Megan grudgingly admitted.

‘Then I really think you should go in,’ Alicia said, patting Megan on the shoulder. ‘Besides, this whole thing is your production. You know what needs to be done more than Bess or me!’

Taking the cue from her foster sister, and knowing that Megan thrived on argument but was a glutton for flattery, Bess said, ‘I really think you could do this better than Alicia. Remember how she botched the phone call?’

Megan sighed. ‘I suppose you’re both right. I’m the only one who could do this justice.’ Sighing again, she exited the vehicle. ‘Y’all stay here. I’ll be right back.’

The two remaining sisters sat ramrod stiff until Megan had entered the store, then they turned and fist-bumped each other. ‘Bess,’ Alicia said, ‘you are truly the great manipulator!’

Bess bowed her head. ‘Thank you, awards and flowers will be gladly accepted. But you’re the one!’ she said, pointing at Alicia. ‘I never would have gone that way without your lead!’

‘Well, Megan does like a bit of flattery,’ Alicia admitted.

‘I know, and I forget that sometimes. It’s just so much more fun to piss her off.’

Inside the store, Megan headed for a sale rack and began shuffling through the clothes. She didn’t see Harper. In fact, she didn’t see anybody. Then a door behind the check-out counter opened and Harper came out, carrying several pairs of pants over her arm. Seeing Megan, she said, ‘Oh, hi! Can I help you?’

‘You work here?’ Megan asked.

Looking closer at her new ‘customer,’ Harper said, ‘Oh, great, it’s you! I’m being ganged up on by the Pughes today!’

‘How would I know you worked here?’ Megan demanded. ‘I was told this was a good place. I don’t usually wear plus sizes, but I thought I’d give it a shot. Do you have anything smaller than a fourteen?’

‘No, we don’t. And you’re not a fourteen! You’re in here after me, and I don’t know why! What do you bitches want?’

Preening just a bit by Harper’s declaration that she, Megan, wasn’t a size fourteen, she said, ‘Don’t be so rude!’ She tried to hide the smile of satisfaction that threatened to overtake her face. ‘I’m not after you for any reason! I’m just doing some window shopping!’

‘Bullshit!’ Harper said.

‘Are you pregnant?’ Megan blurted out, pointing at Harper’s belly. ‘Or just trying to get into some of these clothes?’

‘Fuck off, Pugh! And get out of my store!’

‘Is this your store? Or do you work for someone? Do you think the owner would be happy knowing her clerk was shooing customers away?’ Megan said.

Harper walked up to Megan and grabbed her arm, twisting it. Megan jerked away. ‘Jeez! You and your brother! Definitely violent types!’

Harper stopped in her tracks. ‘So that was you last night! I knew it! There aren’t many threesomes that look like you and your so-called sisters! A midget, a scarecrow, and you – Godzilla!’

‘Again, you are being very rude. And it’s not nice to talk that way around your baby. It’ll come out mean-spirited.’

Harper shook her head and moved back behind the counter where she managed to get onto a high stool by the cash register. ‘Whatever. My feet are killing me! And I don’t need this shit! Are you going back to BCR and telling everybody I’m preggers?’

‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ Megan said, moving to the counter and resting her elbows on it. ‘But accusing Logan Harris might get the word moving around.’

‘Yeah, well, if Logan says anything, my brother’s going to kill him.’

‘Before or after he marries you?’ Megan said.

Harper sighed. ‘I’m not marrying Logan! Geez. Would that be a boring life or what?’

‘You say he’s the father—’ Megan started.

Harper jumped up from her stool. ‘Yeah. He is. Now get the hell out of here. Like now! Or I’ll—’

‘You’ll what?’ Megan said, sneering at her adversary.

Harper grinned. ‘I’ll call the cops and tell them I caught you shoplifting.’

Megan thought about it. Heading for the door, she said, ‘We’ll finish this conversation later.’

As she passed through the doorway, Megan heard Harper’s parting shot: ‘I doubt it!’

We heard Miss Hutchins calling from the foot of the staircase. ‘Soup’s on!’ And by the smell wafting up the stairs it was a soup I could surely get my tongue around. I went to Diamond Lovesy’s door and knocked.

‘Diamond, it’s time for lunch,’ I said.

‘Not hungry!’ came the shouted reply. I wondered if her way of getting rid of the cocaine was to stuff the rest of it up her nose. I would say that normally Diamond had a healthy if not abundant appetite.

‘Suit yourself,’ I said. ‘But something smells wonderful!’

‘Leave me alone!’ she screamed.

So I did. Willis and I went downstairs to see the dining table set for four. ‘Miss Lovesy won’t be joining us,’ I said as Willis pulled out a chair for Miss Hutchins. He never pulled a chair out for me – ever. I opted to say nothing.

There was a soup tureen in the middle of the table and a platter of cold-cut meats next to it, with a basket of assorted breads on the other side of the tureen. There was also a platter of cut vegetables and fruits. I was thinking seriously of moving in here permanently. Miss Hutchins lifted the lid off the tureen and the smell of the soup was almost overpowering. ‘Beef barley,’ she said. ‘Homemade.’

‘Will you marry me, Miss Hutchins?’ Willis asked reverently.

She giggled. ‘I think E.J. might have something to say about that!’ she said.

‘No, no! It’s OK. As long as I get to live with the both of you!’ I said, ladling out half as much soup as I actually wanted. I know, I’m a slave to my body image. I also grabbed one slice of sourdough bread (a little on the large size), ham, roast beef and turkey (for the protein, OK?), two kinds of cheese (more protein!) and just a little mayonnaise, and made myself half a sandwich. I grabbed more fruit and veggies than I should have, but hey, they’re good for me, right? I figured, all in all, I would only gain maybe five pounds from this lunch. I could go for a walk after.

‘Miss Lovesy really should eat something,’ Miss Hutchins said.

Willis laughed. ‘With what she’s stuffed up her—’

I coughed loudly. ‘I’m sure she’s just grieving. I understand that takes your appetite away.’

‘Oh, yes, it does!’ Miss Hutchins said with some fervor. ‘When Daddy died – the first time – Mama was just inconsolable. She wouldn’t eat anything! All she ever did was sleep for the longest time, then she just stayed in her room. I brought her up soup and such, but she never ate much. And when I lost Mama, I didn’t eat for a week.’ She stopped for a moment, staring off into space. ‘Funny thing, though. When Uncle Herbert died, I didn’t lose my appetite at all. Quite the opposite,’ she said.

‘I think we can give Miss Lovesy some slack,’ I said.

‘Of course,’ she said, daintily sipping her soup. I wish I could do that daintily, but I tend to slurp with my intent to get everything in my mouth as quickly as possible. I know, not healthy. But at least it’s efficient.

I caught my husband’s eye over Miss Hutchins’ bowed head. He winked. I winked back. Best Miss Hutchins didn’t know about the drugs that might still be in Diamond Lovesy’s room. After lunch, before my possibly imaginary walk, I was going up there and making sure there was nothing left of the coke.

But immediately after lunch I found myself helping Miss Hutchins clear the table and wash the dishes. So I got Willis aside for a moment and asked him to go check out the cocaine situation in Diamond’s room.

‘She’s going to yell at me,’ he said, sounding somewhat distraught.

‘You’ve been yelled at by women before,’ I said, reassuringly patting him on the arm.

‘Only by you!’ he said.

I continued patting. ‘There you go!’ I said with a big smile. ‘After me, Diamond Lovesy should be a cinch!’

My poor, beaten-down husband sighed and headed for the stairs while I headed into the kitchen to help Miss Hutchins.

1942–1943

Edgar tried shaving his thick beard with a sharpened flat rock, but all he ended up doing was irritating his sunburned skin. If he saw the girl again, he thought, he’d follow her, to see where she went. If the soldiers were really gone, then maybe he could stay with her – and her family, of course – and maybe find a razor or at least some scissors! But then he had to wonder … When she’d said, ‘Soldiers gone,’ had she meant the Japanese soldiers or the Americans? Because he already knew the Americans were long gone. He was too selfish a person to wonder where they might be or how they might be faring. It would be years before he would hear about the Bataan death march or the inhumanities of the POW camps run by the Japanese. When he did hear about it, his only reaction would be pride in himself that he’d had the wherewithal to run away.

Ten days after seeing the Filipino girl for the first time, he saw her again, wearing the same garment and heading for the hot springs. But this time she wasn’t alone – there was an older woman with her. He hid in the trees for a while, wondering what he should do. Would the older woman be as friendly as the girl had been, or would she immediately turn him over to the Japanese? He was pretty sure the ‘soldiers gone’ comment the girl had made referred to the Americans and not the Japanese. But he was hungry, and itched from all the hair on both his head and face. And he was lonely. And then, of course, he was horny. If he couldn’t have the girl then hell, he thought, he’d take the old lady. So he came out from behind the trees.

The girl saw him first and broke into a smile. ‘Ed-gur!’ she said.

‘Hi, Lupita,’ Edgar said, smiling at her.

The woman had whirled around when the girl spoke and was staring at Edgar. She rapidly shot off some of that gobbledygook to Lupita, who gave a rapid-fire response. Then to Edgar she said, ‘My mother.’

‘Nice to meet you, ma’am,’ Edgar said, smiling and nodding at the older woman. She continued to glare at him.

Deciding to treat the woman like he would a wild animal, he sat down on the grass surround of the hot spring, crossing his legs and putting his hands on his knees, palms up. The woman’s glare dimmed a slight bit. To the girl, Edgar said, ‘Lupita, I need a shave and a haircut.’

Lupita cocked her head but said nothing. Edgar knew this meant she didn’t understand him. So he put his hands to his face and scraped at his beard, then put his hands to his hair and mimed cutting it. The old woman smiled and got excited, rapidly saying something to Lupita in their language. Lupita smiled and mimed cutting her hair, repeating the words her mother had used.

Touching his face, Edgar said, ‘Shave …’

Lupita copied him and said, ‘Shave …’

Then touching his hair, Edgar said, ‘Haircut.’

Lupita repeated what he’d done.

They smiled at each other, then Lupita turned to her mother and spoke. The mother smiled and nodded at Edgar, then said, ‘Shave. Hair cut.’ Edgar nodded and smiled back.

Then Lupita held up her sliver of soap and mimed washing and pointed at him. ‘Yes, ma’am!’ he said at once, and took off his raggedy shirt.

After he was sufficiently dry and Lupita and her mother had talked at length, the two women rose from the grassy surround and Lupita said, ‘Stay!’ and pointed at him.

He nodded and the two women headed into the forest.

Twenty minutes later Lupita was back, hauling a Marine-green blanket being used as a sack. She lowered it to the ground and dropped the sides. She sat on the ground and handed things to him. First an old straight-razor with a blade so thin it was almost translucent. She cocked her head as she handed it to him, and he said, ‘Razor.’

‘Razor,’ she repeated, then handed him a knife with a very sharp blade. She motioned to his hair. No scissors, he thought. So he said, ‘Knife,’ and she repeated it after him. Then she handed him a shirt. It was a man’s shirt and looked a little small for him – at least it would have been before he’d started starving to death. It might fit him now, he realized. He smiled his thanks and said, ‘Shirt.’ She repeated it and handed him a pair of pants, which he named and she repeated. They continued this throughout the contents of the blanket sack, which included a bowl of rice wrapped in a cloth, a small sack of beans that he discovered from the smell were coffee beans, some fruit he’d never seen before and a silver cross on a chain. He tried to hand that back but she wouldn’t let him. Instead, she leaned forward and clasped it around his neck. ‘Jesus save,’ she said. Then she jumped up and handed Edgar the blanket. ‘Keep,’ she said, then ran back into the forest.

This went on for the next several months. Every week or ten days, Lupita and her mother would come to the hot springs, bringing with them small gifts of bowls of cooked rice, pinto beans, already cooked, and an occasional new fruit. These were a great addition to the stash of game he had at his campsite. One day, finally realizing that they never brought him meat, which could mean they didn’t have any, Edgar went to the hot spring with a large leg of pork and presented it to Lupita’s mother. He saw tears come to her eyes when she accepted it. The next time Lupita came to the clearing, she was alone. Edgar, of course, thought if he’d known that would happen, he’d have brought the old lady meat the first day!

And so he was alone with the girl. He could tell she was smitten with him, and it didn’t take too long for him to bed her. She appeared willing, if a little unwise as to the procedures.

This went on well into 1943, and by the middle of that year it was pretty obvious that Lupita was with child. Her mother came with her to the clearing to emphasize that point. She pointed at her daughter’s enlarged stomach and spat out a stream of her language, in no uncertain terms accusing him of causing this problem. He couldn’t very well deny it. He’d followed Lupita home one night, unbeknownst to her, and found her little village to be all women. There were no men anywhere. He’d had a bad feeling that they’d either all been subscribed by the Japanese, or just killed. So there didn’t appear to be anyone else to point a finger at. Two days later Lupita, her mother and another woman met him at the clearing. The mother handed him another set of clothes. This time the shirt was white with white embroidery around the hem, and the pants were also white, with embroidery on the hems of the legs. She also brought him shoes, like beach shoes at home. They were sandals made of bamboo with thongs between the toes that came up the sides and were covered in brightly colored silk. The mother washed his feet then slid the sandals on him. Then pointed at where he should stand. He stood, with Lupita at his side, while the woman he didn’t know spoke their gobbledygook at him, made a few gestures that he didn’t understand, then turned and left.

Edgar looked from Lupita to her mother and back again. Now what? he thought. Something told him he might have just gotten married, but he doubted it would transfer back to the States.