Seasons of Her Life (36 page)

Ruby settled into her new quarters that this time were so clean,
she gasped aloud. She wondered if it had anything to do with her husband being a captain or if it was because she'd asserted herself for the first time.

The first thing she did on settling in was write to Opal, Amber, and the bank in Washington. The second thing she did was rent a post office box so her mail from the bank would be safe.

She hadn't called the Frankels because she didn't want to interfere with their vacation. She was dying to hear firsthand news of her husband, but she would be stepping out of bounds if she did that. Sooner or later, providing Mrs. Frankel knew she was here, there would be a phone call or a note dropped off by one of their stewards.

She'd signed in on schedule, suffered through the obligatory luncheon, complete with plumeria lei, and ignored all other offers. She had a baby who needed her. She was polite but firm when she declined the invitations to teas and get-togethers. She wanted to explore this magnificent island and learn all about the people. She loved the beach with its sparkling blue water, and so did Martha. She spent long days in the sun with her daughter, frolicking in the water and building sand castles. She was having the time of her life.

A month to the day of her arrival there was a knock on her door. Ruby looked sleepily at the small clock on her night table. Who would knock this early? Barefooted, tying the belt of her robe, she made her way to the door, muttering about inconsiderate people waking up other people. Her eyes widened in shock when she recognized the housing officer. Her heart started to thump, knowing she wasn't going to like what she heard.

“Ma'am, you're going to have to vacate these premises by noon today. According to this,” he said, flashing what looked like an order done in triplicate, “you don't belong here. There was a mistake in billeting. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. This unit has been reserved for a colonel and his family. The housing office screwed up and misassigned Captain Blue to field grade quarters and only now found the mistake.”

“I don't understand. I can't possibly move, I have a baby. I have nowhere to go. I used all my money for this move, and my husband's allotment hasn't caught up with me. How can you do this to me? I can't possibly move my furniture. . . .”

“Ma'am, I'm just delivering your orders; you do as you're told just the way I do. Noon. I'm sorry for any inconvenience this may cause you.” A second later he turned on his heel smartly and walked away.

Ruby slammed the door. Martha let out a wail that sent chills up Ruby's spine. “My God, this can't be happening!” she bleated. For the first time since Martha's birth, Ruby ignored her daughter as she frantically dialed the base housing number. Thirty minutes later she knew she had no choice but to move. Where, she didn't know.

Blind panic rushed through her. She had exactly twenty-three dollars and forty-seven cents to her name. She'd just paid the rent yesterday. Any hopes of getting that back anytime soon were nonexistent. The paperwork alone would take months. She'd stocked the refrigerator two days ago. What was she to do with the food? It would spoil in the heat without refrigeration.

In a trance she dressed herself and Martha. She forgot to wash her face and brush her teeth. Like a robot she pulled clothes from drawers and packed them any old way, staggering under their weight as she carried them to her car, Martha tugging on her skirt as she went along.

An hour into her packing her tears gave way to scorching anger. How could they do this to her? It wasn't right and it wasn't fair. Her slim body was rigid with fury as she carried the last of her belongings to the car. She had to leave the furniture, her cooking utensils, and Martha's toys behind. Her car trunk was full, as was the backseat. There was just enough room inside for her and Martha.

If she had to leave, she would leave, but not before she said what she had to say. She drove then, carefully, her eyes glittering with fury, her knuckles white on the steering wheel, to the housing office. She stormed in, Martha in her arms, and let loose with a volley of criticism so sharp, the men stood at attention. She ended her tirade with “And you call yourself marines! You should be ashamed of yourselves. Since none of you obviously has the brains to feel shame, I'll feel it for you. I am ashamed! You should all go to hell!” To drive her point home, she took her military pass and her PX card and ripped them into pieces, letting them drop to the floor. “This is what I think of the Marine Corps!” She stomped from the room, Martha whimpering in her arms.

Ruby drove through the gate like a tornado. Didn't anyone care? “Andrew, I hate you. I know the military can screw up, but somehow, some way, I feel in my gut this is all your fault. I should have heard from Mrs. Frankel by now. The fact that I haven't makes me suspicious . . . of you.” She was crying again. How could she blame Andrew, who was in Korea? He was as much a victim as she was. It was the Corps, the damn Corps that was doing this to her.

She'd been intending to go into town, and here she was at the beach. She felt stupid, unable to think clearly. They were homeless, courtesy of the Marine Corps. She was helping Martha from the car, half in a daze. The little girl was squealing her pleasure as she tottered toward the sandy strip of beach on shaky legs.

While Martha ripped into the sand with a plastic shovel, Ruby sat with her head between her hands, crying. She had to get hold of herself and start to think about what she was going to do. Sleep on the beach, in the car? Martha was on whole milk now, how would she keep it cool?

It was all a mistake. Sooner or later it would be rectified. On the other hand, perhaps it wouldn't be resolved until Andrew returned, whenever that was. Would the Frankels wonder about her? She wished now she'd been friendlier with the other wives and had gone to their damn teas and luncheons, but that meant paying a baby-sitter, and she had no money for such luxuries. But would those persnickety wives have helped her? She doubted it. She knew now the girls from Iwo Jima Circle were unique, possibly because they were low in rank and just starting the climb. No matter what they said, she knew the camaraderie was a façade, a myth they all wanted to believe in to make life in the military bearable. It was me, me, me all the way. Where was that “we take care of our own” spirit? It was all bullshit. Pure bullshit. Like a drum roll, her grandmother's words thundered in her ears. “The only person you can depend on is yourself.”

Ruby's eyes filled again. She wiped them on the sleeve of her blouse. She couldn't keep sitting there, she had to do something.

Martha kicked and screamed as Ruby scraped the sand from her bare feet and carried her back to the car. She was still screaming when Ruby thrust the car into gear and headed back to Nimitz Highway. She would go to Waikiki and stop at the first church she came to. Surely, the good fathers would help her. Her shoulders slumped when she remembered how she'd all but renounced God. The memory of leaving her Bible on the train flashed before her. If she was going to be punished for it, this would be the time.

Martha was asleep now, sucking on her thumb, her blanket clutched under her chin. Poor . . . homeless baby.

Ruby pulled up short when she saw the white steeple looming ahead of her. She gritted her teeth as she read
ST. ANDREW'S CATHEDRAL.
It was an Episcopal church, but she didn't care. It must be an omen, some sort of sign she should stop there.

She'd driven a long way, it seemed. She vaguely remembered driving through Waikiki. Everything was such a blur. She knew she had to get her wits about her or she and Martha really would end up sleeping on the beach.

She hated to wake the child, but she had no other choice. Fortunately, the baby whimpered once and then nuzzled her head on Ruby's shoulder. Martha was getting heavy, Ruby thought in dismay. She had to do something decisive now, like put one foot in front of the other and walk around to the priory at the back of the church.

Ruby's face was flushed with the heat and the weight of the child in her arms. Her eyes were pleading when the man in the clerical collar approached her. “Father, I need help,” she whispered.

Father Joachim led Ruby to a chair and offered to take the sleeping child. Ruby shook her head. “She'll wake up and start to cry. Strange places frighten her.” She told him about her morning and going to the beach and driving around until she came to his church. She ended with “It won't do any good to go back and plead or fight. The mixup will eventually be straightened out, but in the meantime, I need a place for Martha. You have to help me, Father. I don't know what else to do. If you let me make a long distance call, I can call my bank in Washington and have them send me some money; it won't be much, but I can give it to you until the ... the paperwork is straightened out. By that time Andrew's allotment should be here. Will you help me?” she asked breathlessly.

He had such kind eyes and such work-worn hands, Ruby thought. He seemed gentle, and when he smiled, the dim, paneled room seemed lighter somehow.

“Of course, child. We have a small building for visitors. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. But you must share the responsibilities, the cooking and the cleaning. We have several elderly people in need of care. I think that angel you're holding will be just the thing to perk them up. You can think of it as having a half-dozen grandparents for the little one.”

Ruby's eyes closed in relief. “How much will it cost, Father?”

“In dollars and cents? Nothing. In emotion and physical work, quite a lot.” His eyes twinkled merrily. “I think you're up to it. You see, I have several rather well-to-do parishioners who are generous with their donations. Perhaps someday when you are well off, you'll remember St. Andrew's.”

“I will, Father, I swear I will. I don't mean I
swear
... what I mean is, I'll promise.”

“Then, Ruby Blue, I accept your promise. To me,” he said, his eyes twinkling again, “a promise is more binding than a legal contract. If you're up to it, I'll show you the way. It's no more than a block or so by city standards. I'll have someone drive your car around later.”

It was a long building almost obscured by lush plumeria and huge banyan trees. Diamond-shaped windows and a heavy oak door gave it a fairytale quality. Everywhere, as far as she could see, were well-tended flowers and blooming hibiscus. The grass was trimmed and more green than a meadow of emeralds. A dog woofed softly.

The priest smiled. “That's Joshua, the guardian of this little establishment. Unfortunately, he is old, but he's particularly fond of children.”

The building on the inside was as inviting as the outside. It was larger than she thought, with a kitchen, a sitting room, and three dormitory-style bedrooms with cots and dressers. However, there was only one bathroom. The priest apologized.

It was colorful with framed prints on the wall, obviously hung by some previous guests. The furniture was wicker with faded flowered cushions. A monstrous radio stood in the corner. Lamps made from shells and glass jars adorned all the little tables. On the tile floor straw mats formed a checkerboard pattern. The kitchen was modern and clean, as was the bathroom. There was even a service area that held a wringer washing machine. Two taut clotheslines stretched across the length of the backyard. To Ruby it was a palace.

“Come along, Mrs. Blue, and I'll introduce you to your roommates. They usually sit outdoors at this time of day with a glass of pineapple juice they make themselves.”

Joshua, the taffy-colored springer spaniel, trotted over to Ruby and sniffed at her feet. Dark, liquid-brown eyes stared up at her. She hunched over and scratched the dog's silky ears.

The garden, Ruby decided, had to be the most beautiful spot on earth, at least the most beautiful that she'd ever seen. The colors of the brilliant, fragrant flowers seemed to explode about her. She inhaled deeply, savoring their exotic scents. The garden was walled in with decorative whitewashed cinder blocks, a perfect backdrop for the equally white trellises and climbing vines. The women, she noted, wore brightly colored, long dresses and sandals; the three men wore loose cotton trousers and flowered shirts. They were all elderly. It was hard to imagine them working as hard as they would need to to maintain the building and grounds.

They were smiling at her now and she smiled in return. One lady, who looked to be in her eighties, was holding out a glass of pineapple juice. Another held out her arms to take Martha. Still another motioned her, with a wide smile, to take her place at the table. Father Joachim urged her forward. “For a little while, this will be your family, my dear,” he said, beaming.

“Father, how can these people do all the work required to maintain the grounds and house? When people reach their age, they shouldn't have to work like this.”

“I couldn't agree with you more, but these people, as you call them, refuse to take charity. They're proud. When they can no longer contribute, they leave, it's that simple.”

Shocked, Ruby asked, “But where do they go?”

Father Joachim shrugged. “I don't know, and the others won't tell. Most of them,” he said, lowering his voice, “die here, peacefully in their sleep.”

Suddenly, Ruby felt Martha leave her arms. Instinctively, she reacted and would have prevented the woman named Mattie from taking her child but for the pressure on her arm from the pastor. Martha squirmed and whimpered and then laughed as Mattie chucked her under the chin. The others crowded around, but not close enough to frighten the child. Joshua woofed his approval and immediately set about licking one of Martha's pudgy legs. The child giggled as she tried to touch the dog's lapping tongue.