Crossings (59 page)

“Let me give it another try, and I'll call you back.”

And two days later Brett did. He didn't have much. But he had something. “He was on the
Enterprise
when she was hit, Mr. Crockett. And apparently he was wounded pretty badly. We don't know much more than that except that he was shipped to Hawaii. And they just found out this morning that he was at Hickam.”

“Is he still there?” The old man's hand shook on the phone. They had found him … but was he still alive? And how badly had he been wounded?

“They shipped him out last week on the USS
Solace
. It's virtually been turned into a hospital ship, and it's heading for San Francisco. But, Mr. Crockett …” He hated to dampen his hopes, but they all had to be realistic, even the unknown niece, maybe most especially she. He didn't realize that she knew nothing of her uncle's inquiry. George had wanted to wait till he had concrete news. “We have no idea at all what condition he's in. He was critical when he got to Hickam and we don't know how he was when he left, and apparently on those ships … a lot of them don't make it.”

“I know.” George Crockett closed his eyes. “We'll just have to pray.” He was wondering if he should wait, or if he should tell Liane. But maybe she'd find herself looking into his face at that damn hospital. He opened his eyes then. “How did you find out?”

Brett Williams smiled. “I called the President again and told him you had to know.”

“He's a good man.” He grinned. “I voted for him in the last election.”

Brett Williams smiled. “So did I.” But it was a moment of relief in a sobering time.

“Do you know when the ship is scheduled to dock?”

“They weren't sure. Tomorrow or the day after.”

“I'll keep an eye on it from here, and as soon as I know something, I'll call you.” He hung up and called the Navy after that. The
Solace
was due to come in at roughly six o'clock the next morning. It gave him a lot to think about that afternoon before he saw Liane again. And when she came home at ten o'clock that night, she was pale and exhausted.

He watched her eat a sandwich and drink a cup of tea, and he thought of telling her then, but he just couldn't. What if Nick had died on the ship? And then he thought about it some more. What if he hadn't?

She was still awake when he knocked on her bedroom door an hour later. “Liane? Are you up?”

“Yes, Uncle George. Is something wrong? Don't you feel well?” She was wearing a pale-blue nightgown and she looked very worried.

“No, no, I'm fine, dear. Sit down.” He waved her to a chair and sat down on the bed, and she felt an instant chill run through her. She had the feeling that he was going to tell her something she didn't want to know. Her last shred of hope died as she watched him. “I have something I want to say to you, Liane. I don't know if you'll be angry or not.” He took a breath and went on. “I called Brett Williams a few days ago.”

“Who's that?” And then suddenly she remembered, and she felt her whole body grow stiff. “Yes?” It was like falling down a dark hole and dying as she waited.

“Nick was in Guadalcanal.” He tried to tell her quickly. “He was wounded … pretty badly, they think. But he was alive at the last report.”

“When was that?” She spoke in a whisper.

“Over a week ago.”

“Where is he?”

Her uncle watched her eyes as he spoke. She was in pain, but she was alive again. “On a ship coming to San Francisco.”

She began to cry softly and he went to her and touched her shoulder.

“Liane … he may not make it on the ship. You've seen enough of that to know.” She nodded, and looked up at him.

“Do you know which ship he's on?”

He nodded. “The
Solace
. They're coming in at six o'clock tomorrow morning, in Oakland.” She sat very still as she closed her eyes and thought. Six o'clock … six o'clock …in seven hours it would be all over … she would know…. She looked up at her uncle again. “We'll find out as soon as they arrive.”

“No.” Her voice was strong as she shook her head. “No. I want to go down there myself.”

“You may not even find him.”

“If he's there, I will.”

“But, Liane …” What if he was dead? He didn't want her to face that alone. And then he had a thought. “I'll go with you.” She kissed his cheek softly.

“I want to go alone. I have to.” And then she smiled at the memory of Nick's words so long ago. “I'm a strong woman, Uncle George.”

“I know that.” He smiled through damp eyes. “But that may be too much for you.” She shook her head, and a little while later he left the room. And all that night she sat in the dark and watched the clock, and at four thirty she showered and got dressed. She wore a warm coat, and when she left the house at five o'clock, there was a thick fog swirling around her.

t five fifteen Liane was on the Bay Bridge and there was not a single car ahead of or behind her. Only two lone trucks in the distance. And the fog lay on the bay and on the bridge overhead. And when she reached the naval base, it was thick on the water. There were ambulances lined up to take the men off the ship, and teams of medics, blowing on their hands to keep them warm. They knew that the ship was already under the Golden Gate Bridge. It wouldn't be much longer. And then she saw a familiar face from the hospital where she worked, a young naval doctor.

“They've got you working down here now, Liane? I think you work harder than I do.”

“No. I came to see … to find …” He saw the look in her eyes and nodded. She was not on duty here. He understood instantly why she stood shivering in the chill morning.

“Do you know where he was?”

“Guadalcanal.” And they had seen the results for months, streams of wounded and dead and maimed.

“Do you know how badly he was wounded?” She shook her head and he touched her arm, and then he spoke softly. “We'll patch him up.” She nodded, unable to say more, and then she wandered away to watch for the ship. But in the thick fog it was impossible to see anything. And then slowly, in the distance, a light appeared, and a horn sounded, and she noticed a group of women on the dock, waiting tensely. And she looked into the fog again as slowly the lights appeared, and then suddenly the
Solace
came out of the fog, like a vision. Her entire side was painted white with a red cross on it. And Liane stood in the cold, holding her breath. It seemed to take them hours to tie up, and the medics were getting ready. Men moved forward with stretchers and at last she tied up at the dock, and suddenly all was action.

The worst cases were brought off first and suddenly the ambulance sirens screeched into action. It seemed ironic to Liane as she watched. The wounded had drifted across the Pacific for days, and now they were being rushed to a hospital with a siren. But for some, even a moment lost could make the difference between life and death, and knowing that she had no choice, she moved forward and tried to see faces, but some had been blown off, or were hidden, or were so badly burned, they were beyond recognition. Her stomach began to churn as she moved along the dock, waiting, watching. This was different from her hospital work. She was looking for Nick, and each man she looked at counted, each time she braced herself for the worst. And then the young doctor called out to her.

“What's his name?”

She shouted back. “Burnham … Nick Burnham!”

“We'll find him.” She nodded her thanks and he moved among the injured men, and she moved among others but Nick was nowhere in sight, and then slowly the walking wounded began to come up, and there were shrieks from the small group of women. And men limped forward with tears streaming down their cheeks, and suddenly in the fog she heard a roar, and as they looked up at the decks from the dock, they saw thousands of men hanging there, bandaged and crippled and wounded and maimed, but saluting their homeland with a mighty cheer. And an answering cheer went up from the dock as Liane cried for them and for Nick, and for herself … and Armand … There were so many who would never come home again. And she wondered now if Nick would be among them. Perhaps the information Uncle George had got was wrong … maybe he had died after all …or wasn't on the ship … or had died in transit. It was an unbearable wait as slowly the men streamed off. It was after seven thirty, and the fog was lifting slowly, and still they came and she hadn't found Nick. Many of the other women had left, and the young doctor still moved as quickly as he could among the stretcher cases as the ambulances traveled back and forth to the hospital. She knew that that morning the surgery would be blazing.

“Nothing yet?” The young doctor stopped next to her for only a moment, and she shook her head. “That may be a good sign. He may walk off yet.” Or not at all, she thought to herself. She was chilled to the bone, and numb inside. And then she saw him. He was moving slowly through a group of men, and there were others in front of him. His head was bent, and his hair was long, but she knew him at once, even in the sea of men around him. And she saw as he approached that he was on crutches.

She stood deathly still as she watched, wondering suddenly if she should have come. If it was wrong. If by now he wouldn't want to see her. And as her eyes bore through the crowd he turned to say something to a man on his right, and then he stopped where he was, as he saw her. He moved not at all, nor did she. They just stood there, with the crowd moving steadily past them. And then, as though there were no turning back, she moved slowly toward him, through the men as they jostled her to get home. They were moving more quickly now, and there were still shouts and cheers, and for a moment she lost him, but he was still standing where he had been when the crowd parted again and she began to run, and laugh through her tears, but he bent his head and he began to cry too and he was turning his head from side to side, as though to say no, as though he didn't want to see her. Her steps slowed and she saw, his left leg was gone, and then she ran toward him on the dock, shouting his name. “Nick! Nick!” She flew on and he looked up, with a thousand years in his eyes that hadn't been there before, and then with a sudden lunge he grabbed the crutches and moved toward her and they stood there on the dock as he crushed her to him. They were much the same as they had been before, and very different. A thousand years had passed, and men had died all around them, and the fog lifted slowly over their heads. Nick was home at last and Liane was his now. He had been right long before. Strong people cannot be defeated.