Twenty-two
Imogene’s father did not improve as expected. His fever continued, and he seemed to grow weaker as they watched. The hospital lacked the drugs to help him.
“We’re short on sulfa,” the doctor said. “What comes to us through the Red Cross, the Japanese keep for themselves.”
“Isn’t that against the Geneva Convention?” Imogene asked.
He shrugged. “Tell that to the Japanese.”
Maybe Becky would have a resource in Manila. She’d heard how sometimes the sulfa pills were hidden in the skins of bananas and passed to the internees in baskets of fruit.
Becky had settled in with the Spaneases and, even with her expanding girth, made the trek to the main gate of Santo Tomás every other day with fresh produce from their garden. She’d even brought a bouquet of flowers to brighten her father’s room. But she hadn’t been able to bring the medicine he needed most.
On one of Gloria’s visits to see him, she had hinted that she might have a resource. So when she sent a message that she needed to see Imogene, Imogene was quick to respond.
Gloria lived in Franklin Hall on the floor above them. But this was the first time Imogene had visited her room, the only single in the dorm. The advantage of entertaining “friends in high places,” Imogene supposed. But ever since Jimmy had said to pray for her, Imogene’s attitude had changed toward Gloria. As a result, so had Gloria’s toward her.
When she pushed open the door, she was aghast at what she saw. If she hadn’t known it was Gloria’s room, she would hardly have recognized the sultry siren beneath the prickly mass of measles covering her bloated face. The woman’s eyes were swollen almost shut.
“Oh, Gloria, you poor thing. I’m so sorry. Here you’ve been nursing everybody else. Now you’ve got the measles yourself.”
“No good deed goes unpunished,” Gloria said dryly. Her puffy, inflamed lips barely moved, and her voice came out as a croak. “I’ll be okay. . .takes time. . .need you to do me a favor.”
“Of course. Anything.”
“You can’t tell anybody.”
“If you say not to.”
“It’s a medicine drop for the hospital,” she whispered.
“Is it dangerous?”
“Well. . .not if you’re careful and follow directions exactly.”
Excitement skittered up Imogene’s spine. “Tell me what to do.”
Gloria adjusted the pillow under her head. “You have to be at the back gate at 2:34.”
“a.m.?”
“Yeah, a.m. You have only a window of ten minutes between patrols. When you see the gate being unlocked”—she paused to take a couple of slow, deep breaths—“that’s your signal. You run over, grab the package”—she breathed again—“and get out of there as fast as you can. Understand?”
Imogene knew she was about to do something important, something that would save lives. Her heart pounded with boldness and the thrill of danger. She repeated Gloria’s instructions. “Back gate, 2:34 a.m. But once I’ve picked up the medicine, what do I do with it then?”
“Karen will be waiting for it at the hospital.” Gloria’s voice was growing weaker. “Don’t give it to anybody else.”
“I know Karen—she’s one of my father’s nurses.”
Gloria nodded and closed her eyes. “Be careful.”
Imogene touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry.”
❧
Jimmy waited in the shadows and prayed that everything would go as planned.
For the last several weeks, since there had been a shortage of sulfa in the camp, he had managed to spirit some away from the military hospital’s abundant supply, much of which had been designated by the Red Cross for the camp hospital anyway.
That’s how he managed to justify his theft. He was stealing from the thieves.
Under the circumstances he figured God would forgive him.
Each time, he prayed the plan would work. So far it had.
The mission couldn’t have succeeded without Gloria. She was one of the camp’s blessings, although few knew it, especially Gloria herself. He could count on her. She had daring and courage. Sometimes too much. It bordered on recklessness.
“So what?” she’d said. “What more do I have to lose? I’ve already lost everything that matters to me.”
He’d suggested that if she didn’t value her own life, at least value his.
Well, if he put it that way, she’d said.
But her cavalier attitude toward danger still made him nervous. For some unaccountable reason, tonight even more than usual.
From his vantage point outside the fence, he had a view of the lighted gate. He heard the guards approach on their way to the barracks and watched them pass. With his pinpoint flashlight, he illuminated his watch. They were on time, almost to the second.
His heart pounded as it always did. So much was at stake.
What if something went wrong? What if the patrol came early or late? What if he or Gloria were to drop the package in their hurried exchange, scattering the contents? What if, what if—
Within the compound he glimpsed movement. Pale skin. A flash of blue.
He hurried to the gate, inserted the key.
That was her signal.
She ran toward him.
It wasn’t Gloria!
Imogene!
“Jimmy, what are you—”
He thrust the package into her hands. “Run.”
As he relocked the gate, he could hear the voices of the approaching patrol.
He made it to the edge of the woods and sank back into the shadows as they rounded the corner of the compound.
Anxiously he looked back. The area between the fence and the building was empty.
He bent over, resting his hands on his thighs, and sucked in a lungful of air. With a groan of relief, he released it.
Wait until he got his hands on that crazy Gloria! If she chose to risk her own life, that was one thing, but to risk Imogene’s? How dare she? And as for Imogene, he was ready to strangle the girl. What did she think she was doing?
All the what-ifs replayed in his mind; all the possibilities of what could have happened added fuel to his outrage. Wait until he got his hands on her.
As he hurried back to his quarters, his anger gradually dissipated, leaving a chord of admiration. Not only was his Imogene beautiful and smart; she was brave.
Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to allow her to do it again.
Allow her?
Well, he’d do everything he could to discourage her.
❧
Another selfless act of courage from Jimmy. Imogene wanted to sing his praises to the sky; yet she dared not tell a soul.
Standing in line at roll call, she caught his glance and tried to convey her feelings of admiration. What she got in return was a very stern look, which told her how displeased he apparently was with what she had done.
Down the line, as always, Angier’s shrewd, knowing stare beamed between them. Wherever Imogene went, he followed her, smothering her with his obsequious concern. Her patience was running thin, if not out.
Several days later, Gloria called Imogene to her room again.
“I hear your father’s improved,” she said, looking a good deal better herself.
“Thanks to the sulfa. How are you feeling?”
“Better, but I still have a slight fever. Do you think—”
“You want me to do the pickup again? Of course.” It would give her another chance to see Jimmy, if only fleeting.
“Jimmy wasn’t happy when I sent him the message I was going to ask you again. It seems he doesn’t mind risking my life, but yours is a different matter.”
Imogene warmed at her words. Of course it wasn’t true; he cared for both their safety. It was just that he was in love with Imogene. Her heart skipped. In love with her.
At the appointed hour, Imogene stood in the shadow of the building, her eyes searching the darkness of the woods beyond the fence for some sign of his presence.
She heard the patrol, watched them pass. Breath suspended, she waited.
No flicker in the woods. No Jimmy racing to open the gate.
As the minutes ticked away, she became more and more alarmed.
Had she gotten the time wrong?
No, she was sure not.
The other patrol came and went.
Still no Jimmy.
In her heart Imogene knew something terrible had happened.