Daniel loosened his tie as they walked up the dusty path towards the Allied Officers’ Club, a sense of dread gnawing at his gut.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Amelia asked, brushing his fingertips with hers.
He cleared his throat. “Of course.” But he wasn’t so sure. They’d enjoyed a wonderful afternoon, finally finding each other again, and he didn’t want to ruin that. But this was their reality, their world, and he had to find a place within it. He glanced at a family of Papuans resting under a tree – a man dressed in a lap-lap, a naked small child at his side. Standing behind them was the mother, bare-breasted with a grass skirt around her waist. Across her forehead, cutting through the fuzzy curls of her black hair, was a bilum – a bag woven out of string – that was holding a sleeping baby. His insides warmed at the thought of one day having a baby with Amelia, until he was met by a long frowning stare of incomprehension from the mother.
He averted his gaze and picked up the pace until they approached the club – a large hut built on stilts that sat over the pale-blue waters of Ela Beach. Potted plants lined the front windows that opened to a large verandah. Loud jazz music and the smell of sweat floated outside to mingle with the scent of the sea. Through the windows Daniel saw Papuans dressed in coloured lap-laps, with red hibiscus in their hair, waiting on the tables of loud American men. There was a line-up to get in, hordes of uniformed men swarming the entrance. Several of them stared at Daniel and Amelia.
“Do you think they’ll ever accept us?” Daniel asked, as they hovered at the back of the line.
“Who do you mean by ‘they’?” Amelia replied slowly.
“Papuans. Niuginians. Australians … everyone, really. Do you think we’ll ever be okay in their eyes?”
Amelia turned to look at him. “Does it matter?”
“Yes … no. I don’t know. It’d certainly make things easier.”
The doorman stopped them when they got to the entrance.
“No natives,” he said in a whiny American accent. He looked behind them and gestured for the next pair of men to go in. They immediately pushed past, shoving into Daniel’s shoulder and causing him to lose his balance. Amelia reached out to steady him, but he shrugged her off.
Amelia shifted on her feet, looking between Daniel and the doorman. She cleared her throat and said, “He’s Scottish and a loyal member of our Allied army, as am I. We have every right to be here.”
Daniel stiffened next to Amelia as the doorman repeated, “No. Natives.”
“He’s not—”
“Meels, leave it,” Daniel interrupted and pulled her away.
“But it’s not right,” Amelia replied and scowled at the doorman.
Daniel came to a stop some distance away from the club and dropped her hand. “Not like we can change it.”
“We can try …”
He shook his head and buried his face into his hands, before letting out a loud groan, looking up at her again. “Can we? Really? Can we actually do anything that’s going to make a goddamn difference!”
She flinched. “Sure, we can. We can fight back, make them see that they’re wrong.”
“And what is it that they’re wrong about?”
“Well for one … that you’re not a native.”
“But I am.”
“Yes … but you’re also Scottish.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “You love to point out the fact that I’m Scottish.”
Amelia crossed her arms. “Well, you are—”
“I’ve never even been to Scotland! I know nothing about the place. This”—he stamped his foot and pointed to the ground—“is my home. I’m Niuginian … I’m a native!”
“Sure … but you’re more than that, and people should know it.”
“Do I need to be? If I wasn’t half white, would you still love me?”
“Of … of course I would.” Her voice was shaky. “I’ll always love you, regardless of where you’re from. Haven’t I proved that?” She grabbed his hand, but he pulled away.
He paced up and down the path. “And yet you continue to let the colour of my skin define us. That’s what it’s always about with you. Colour! You go out of your way to make sure people know it’s okay to be with me. You constantly challenge their beliefs, point out their prejudices—”
“So what? I’m standing up for you … for what I believe in!”
“While knocking me over in your wake? You think I want to always be reminded that I’m different, that us being together is something to be baulked at? I live with it every day, am reminded of it all the time. I don’t need it from you too.”
Her mouth fell open, but nothing came out. She kicked the dirt, shoulders slumping as she refused to meet Daniel’s eye. “Look … I get it—”
“You don’t get shit!” he roared. “You have no idea what it’s like; you’re not one of us!”
“Don’t you dare!” She stepped forward and pointed a finger in his face. “I know exactly what it’s like to be treated as inferior, to have to play second fiddle, to watch as men be given precedence, all because I’m a woman and deemed unfit! So, don’t give me that, because I deal it with every day!”