A Song For Lisa (18 page)

“Maybe 1200,” answered Lisa, blushing under his intense
glances. “Over half of the student body are veterans from the war studying
under the G.I. Bill. As a group they are the most dedicated students,
consequently, the campus is probably more oriented toward academics than when
you graduated in 1941. The vets are much more interested in learning than they
are in partying or pulling adolescent pranks.”

“I can believe that. What a wonderful opportunity for the
vets. I’m most anxious to get back to work. This inactivity and waiting for
wounds to heal are beginning to get me down. I’ve still got to go through
therapy sessions for my right arm when the cast is removed.”

“Patience is a virtue, Jon. Your wounds could have been
worse,” Lisa mentioned matter-of-factly.

A nurse interrupted their conversation. “Here’s your coffee
and a piece of apple pie you requested, Colonel. Do you want me to feed you?”

“No thanks, nurse,” Jonathon answered, embarrassed about his
condition. The nurse set the tray on the fold-down shelf on the wheelchair and
left. The coffee cup had a long straw so that he could sip it without
assistance. When no one was around he could eat some of the pie by eating it
like a dog eating out of a bowl.

“I’d be glad to feed you, Jonathon,” Lisa offered, sensing
his discomfort. “It smells like homemade.”

“So far, the food here has been great. Soon I’ll be able to
feed myself. Before you do that, would you mind pushing me to the rail beside
Terry? There’s a new sub tied up at the dock and it’s a beauty.”

“We’re coming up to join you, Terry,” Lisa pushed the chair
to the rail. Terry turned to look at them and grinned.

Lisa fed Jon small pieces of apple pie. He was
self-conscious and avoided making eye contact with her. She shared the fact
that she was involved in the formation of a symphony orchestra at the
university while she fed him. When the pie was finished Lisa asked Terry to
place the empty tray on a table near the entrance to the terrace. Always glad
to do errands, Terry complied.

Suddenly, a deep voice cried out, “Get that damned Jap kid
out of here.”

Terry dropped the tray and ran to his mother frightened at
the loud outburst. He knew it was directed at him. Jonathon turned his head to
see what was going on, and saw a marine sergeant sitting in a wheelchair
pointing a menacing finger at Terry.

“That language won’t accomplish anything, Sergeant. The war
is over. If you can’t control your mouth, then leave the terrace,” Jonathon
replied indignantly.

“Oh, so doggie man is a Jap lover…” the marine countered
viciously.

Lisa whispered in Terry’s ear, “You stay here beside Colonel
Wright, I’ll be right back.”

“If I were a man, I’d make you eat those words,” Lisa
confronted the marine holding a Dixie paper cup of water and threw it in his
face. The marine gasped and turned red with rage. Several patients on the
terrace erupted with claps and whistles. Lisa returned to Jonathon and grasped
Terry’s hand, trembling, and on the verge of tears. A nurse that had witnessed
what took place ran to the angry marine and told him that if he could not
control himself around other people, they had ways of insuring that it wouldn’t
happen again. She wheeled the marine off the terrace.

Jonathon felt helpless that he could do nothing about the
unfortunate scene. Lisa’s silent tears touched him. “Please, Lisa. Don’t take
it to heart and don’t take it personally.”

“How can it be taken any other way, Jon?” Lisa snapped back.

“I apologize for the outrage,” Jonathon replied. “That
patient has been quite unruly since he was transferred to this hospital.”

“Terry and I have got to go. I didn’t mean to cause a
scene.”

“Will you come again?” Jonathon asked, upset that she was
leaving under these circumstances.

“Do you want me to?” she inquired of him. The question
conveyed all the anxieties and doubts that had been a part of her lately.

Jon saw the uncertainty in her eyes. “You and I have not
shared a lot of time together, yet, I feel as if I’ve always known you, Lisa. I
don’t know how to say it, but I’d be saddened if you did not want to visit
again.”

Lisa wiped her tears away. “I believe with all my heart that
you saved my life, Jonathon. You’ve been in my thoughts every day since the
prison raid. If you wish, I’ll be back, possibly next weekend. The week days
are busy, but I’ll try my best.”

“Thanks old friend.”

Lisa softly kissed him on the lips and left the terrace with
Terry in tow.

For the remainder of the fall, Lisa visited Jonathon every
weekend. She tried to be cheerful and upbeat, bringing him news and gossip
circulating at faculty meetings and on campus. Jonathon was determined to
minimize the loss of his left hand. Doctors had removed his body and arm casts
early in October and told him that his body wounds were healing satisfactorily.
The stub of his left arm extended to within an inch of his elbow, and had
healed enough so that the Navy designed and constructed an artificial arm and
hand to fit his configuration.

Jonathon’s mother and Faith visited every two or three weeks
and occasionally stayed with Lisa and Terry. By Thanksgiving he was strong
enough to take day trips away from the hospital. He did not wear his artificial
limb on the trips because what remained of his arm was not strong enough to
accept it. He was still undergoing intense physical therapy to build up his
shoulder and upper arm muscles so that he would be able to activate the
sensitive controls being built into his mechanical arm. He stubbornly refused
to wear it in public until he had mastered it completely. On those occasions
when he left the hospital, he wore his uniform with an empty sleeve. He
preferred that, to the embarrassment of using his new arm in public when he was
not fully in control of it.

One day late in November, Lisa left Terry with a neighbor,
and picked Jonathon up at the hospital. His uniform was covered with combat
ribbons. The Medal of Honor was his highest award but his all-time favorite was
the Combat Infantryman Badge, a rectangular blue badge with an embossed
Kentucky rifle in silver. She drove the faithful Studebaker back to the
university in and around the campus. Jon had graduated in 1941, eleven years
ago. Several changes had taken place since then. More buildings had been built
and the lawns and sprawling campus grounds had been extended in every
direction.

Lisa pulled the car to a stop beside the athletic field
where ROTC units were going through drill maneuvers. Some were more proficient
than others, and Jon smiled at their youthfulness and inexperience. With time,
they would improve. Jon was anxious to take on the duties of commanding them.
The army was holding him back, because they did not want him to be in the
classroom until he was completely ready to assume the full responsibility of
the post and use his new mechanical arm with ease. He was able to convince them
that those requirements could keep him out of the classroom for months, and a combat
veteran, he successfully argued, was fully capable of teaching and carrying out
administrative duties with or without both arms. The fact that he had been
grievously wounded in combat made his position as a leader and a teacher that
much more valid and meaningful.

“I loved the years I spent on campus,” Jon remarked. “It’s
encouraging to note the large number of veterans studying for degrees. I can
hardly wait to become a part of the academic world.”

He turned to Lisa behind the wheel of the Studebaker,
finding her in a reflective mood with an allusive air of detachment. He had
often thought that she could easily fit into the role of a lovable eccentric,
which every institution of higher learning proudly claimed as one of their very
own. At times, he saw sadness and disbelief in her eyes. She seemed to be
somewhere in another world. Probably the grotesque memories from her
imprisonment would never completely leave her. Other than those rare moments he
was able to identify, she seemed to be happy and content with life. The past
few months he had had a chance to get to know her better, but she continued to
be an enigma. He had a feeling that no matter how well he knew and understood
the quiet, unassuming auburn-haired lady, there would always be a part of her
that was yet to be discovered. His initial admiration and respect had grown as
he came to know her better.

“How about you, Lisa? Do you like teaching at the university
as well as you did back home in elementary school?”

She felt his penetrating study of her. “I like it much
better. It gives me more time to sharpen my own skills and I never cease to be
amazed at the large pool of talent in the student body. I’m also enthused about
the symphony orchestra,” she acknowledged energetically.

“I read a piece in the paper about the orchestra. You must
be proud of it. Are most of its members students?” Jon asked.

“Half are students and the other half faculty and local
musicians. The orchestra reflects their young vibrant talents,” Lisa told him.
It was obvious that music was an important part of her life. Jon thought that
it very well could have been the single most stabilizing element. “It should
offer all the people of the community a common experience of good music, shared
at the same time at the same performance. It should reflect the community where
it plays and offer a variety or mix of types of music to suit everyone’s taste.
At Christmas time, for example, people’s heartstrings resonate with the times
and memories of childhood. To be part of an ensemble that is capable of evoking
those kinds of feelings is wonderful and a privilege,” she related happily.
“I’m sorry if I carried on too much.”

Jon could not keep from smiling at her sincere enthusiasm.
“The University is lucky to have you, Lisa. I always knew there was something
special about you.”

She blushed at his compliment and looked out the window.
“I’ve had similar thoughts about you, too. It would be impossible for me to
verbalize the influence you had on me when I was on the precipice. I was ready
and completely prepared to take that final plunge to oblivion until you uttered
those kind words to me.” She turned to face him, her eyes glistening.

He saw that detached look again and passed her a clean
handkerchief. She accepted it and dabbed at her eyes. She was beautiful,
mysterious, and unpredictable. Jonathon remained silent until she controlled
her emotions, touched by the depth of her sensitivity. He felt privileged
because she probably selected her friends very carefully, the way she had done
in prison.

“I haven’t thanked you enough for the kindness and
generosity you’ve shown to my mother and daughter. Faith is a great fan of
yours. It’s been nice to see that kind of enthusiasm in her. She was very close
to her mother. I’m afraid that I haven’t been a very good dad to her.”

“Did you know that she asked me to give her piano lessons
when you start at the university?”

“Yes,” Jon replied. “I scolded her for being too pushy.”

“Oh, I’d be glad to give her lessons. She has a natural
talent that should be cultivated. She’s the kind of student any teacher would
love to have.” Lisa returned the handkerchief. “I was curious about your record
at the university, so I looked it up. I didn’t know you had a degree in
criminology.”

“It’s a far cry from being an Army Ranger isn’t it?”
answered Jon, amused at her curiosity and candor in admitting it. “I had plans
of leaving the army after the war and looking for a job with some police
department.”

“What made you change your mind?” she asked, instantly
regretting the question. “I’m sorry, forget that I asked you that. How
insensitive of me! I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

“You don’t need to apologize for being curious and truthful,
Lisa. To be honest, staying in the army was a cowardly act for me. It was a
convenient escape, an excuse to evade my responsibility to Faith as a parent.
I’ve agonized over that decision a lot while I’ve been idle recovering from my
injuries. I guess the good Lord knows best. I would probably have continued to
deny Faith if I had not been wounded in Korea. I’m thankful for a chance to
think about the things that are important in life, and I’ve been ashamed of my
track record so far. That’s when I begged the army to not discharge me until
I’ve had a chance to do a tour of duty as a teacher. It’ll be an excellent
transitional position so that I can get my life in order. I don’t know what I
would have done without Mother.”

“It sounds to me as if you’ve thought this thing out quite
thoroughly. It must have been horrible for Faith to lose her mother at such a
vulnerable age. I can’t imagine Terry having to face a future without me.”

“What about you, Lisa?” Jon curiously inquired. “I recall
hearing Madame June say that you were engaged to get married!”

Lisa knew that at some point she would share that traumatic
experience with Jon. She searched for the right words. “Jeff and I were engaged
before the war. We were very much in love with each other and grew up as
childhood sweethearts. The last time I saw him, just before the war ended, I
was pregnant. My pregnancy and what it represented, was too much for him to
handle. To make a long story short, I was given two choices, Jeff or the baby I
was carrying. There were no possible exceptions. It was a simple and brutal
either/or choice.” Lisa watched Jon’s reaction. “I chose to have the baby, and
have never regretted the decision. I can honestly tell you that losing Jeff
that way and the memories we shared, has been a long and painful process.”

“I’m sorry, Lisa, I had no right to ask you that. Forgive
me,” he pleaded, meeting her deep expressive brown eyes. “Let’s not talk about
the past anymore. Let’s just enjoy the day. It’s nice to have a chance to play
hooky from the hospital.”

“Would you like to go somewhere for a bite to eat?”

“Do you know of a good steak house? The hospital food isn’t
bad but I’d like a juicy steak, medium rare!” They smiled at each other.

“We can go to Yoken’s in Portsmouth. I’ve never been there
but my friends at school tell me it’s one of the best,” suggested Lisa,
starting the Studebaker.

“You’re the chauffeur Lisa, but this dinner is on me, I
insist.”

“If you insist,” she replied shifting into high gear.

“Your Studebaker goes along pretty good. I have a Nash. My
mother uses it to travel back and forth to the hospital. I hope I’ll be able to
drive soon. I’m getting cabin fever being cooped up for so long,” Jon
complained. “I know it’s necessary, but that’s not the same thing as enjoying
it.”

“I went to the Studebaker garage last month for grease and
an oil change. While I was there, they let me try out a brand new V/8 model
with an automatic transmission. There was no clutch pedal! It was a really nice
car. I hated to give it back to them,” she laughed. “Maybe one of those would
be suitable for you.”

Jon was looking out the window and responded in a defensive
tone. “You mean for a one-armed man?”

“No, no I didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it,”
exclaimed Lisa. “I’m sorry. I never meant to offend you. Please…”

“I know what you meant, Lisa,” he replied quickly. “I’ve
seen the ads for the new Studebakers and thought the same thing. I didn’t mean
to take offense. It’s just that I still haven’t come to grips about having only
one arm. I’m adapting to it, but to be truthful, I feel a little like a cripple
that will never be whole again.”

Lisa abruptly pulled the Studebaker off the road and came to
a sudden stop. She turned to Jon with her bright eyes glistening. “I’m sorry I
brought up the subject, Jon. You completely misread what I intended to say. I
understand your concern─even your distaste about losing an arm. It’s only
natural. Please, whatever you do, don’t be pulled into that self-pity mode.
You’re above that. In many ways you came out of two wars with injuries that
were bad enough, but they could have been worse. Some didn’t survive. You know
that better than anyone. How dare you call yourself a cripple? Do Faith or your
mother think of you as a cripple? Cripples don’t earn the Medal of Honor ribbon
you wear.

“The kind considerate soldier that came out of the jungle to
free me and my companions could never be a cripple. Don’t use that word in my
presence. I hate it because it’s synonymous with inadequacy and becomes an
excuse for not measuring up. I’ve been down that road, and I can tell you it’s
a dead ender.”

Jonathon was taken aback by her outburst. He saw a new Lisa.
Strong passions and feelings were just below the surface! “I hear you, Lisa. I
guess I had that scolding coming to me. Wow, you can really chew out a guy when
he needs it.”

Lisa chuckled at him and herself. “Sometimes I can get
worked up. I didn’t mean to bark at you.”

“Do you know that when you’re angry you’re very beautiful?”
he replied.

“You’re teasing me now,” she said nervously.

“No, I’m not.” He tilted her chin upward with his right hand
and gently kissed her on the lips. She clasped her arms around his neck and
returned his kiss.

Tears formed in Lisa’s eyes. They both remained silent for a
long time, enjoying the moment. Then, Jonathon pulled a clean handkerchief from
his pocket and carefully wiped away her tears. He kissed her trembling lips and
she began to cry again. It was a powerful moment of discovery for each of them.

“I believe I’ve fallen in love with you, Lisa. It was easy
to do you know,” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh, Jonathon! I’ve loved you since that first day,” she
cried between sobs. “I wanted so much to be your friend. Every day I’ve spent
visiting with you has been the highlight of my existence. I didn’t dare to hope
that my feelings would be reciprocated.”

“How can a person not love you? These past weeks with you
have been like a ray of sunshine in my life. I never thought any person could
ever have a place in my heart, but you’ve won it with your gentle and positive
ways. The days have been long between your visits to the hospital. When you do
show up the whole place glows with your presence.” Jon clasped her hand in his.

“It’s almost like a song,” said Lisa in a low tremulous
voice. “Two lonely people finding love after bitter losses and rejection. I’ve
had many offers at the university and back home. None have been appealing to
me. Now I know why I kept refusing them. Is this for real Jonathon? I couldn't
handle another rejection and that’s the reason I’ve been reluctant to place myself
in that position.”