Sons of Thunder (17 page)

Her ring finger bare.

Sofia had looked so thin, her hair snarled in the wind. She hadn’t worn a hat, her feet probably frozen in those high heels.

He’d wanted to go to the station to see Lizzy off, had even called her home to wish her good-bye. Of course, she’d already left.

Why hadn’t he asked her to marry him right off?

No! I told you I’m not that kind of girl!

What kind of girl had Sofia become? A coat-check girl? Or was that shame talking?

Her leg—flung out in fishnet, turned his stomach…

He’d be very proud of you.

Dino threw his arm over his eyes. Sleep. Oh, he longed for sleep.

I’ll be back by the New Year. Reg already told me your fraternity is having a party.

Reg. The way he’d looked at Dino as he’d flung Sofia into the snow—he hadn’t seen such a cold look since the night Theo died.

No. Uncle Jimmy had looked at Markos that way.

Or perhaps the way Dino had looked at Markos on the boat to America. But he’d been grieving. And afraid. And so very angry. He still hadn’t laid hold of why, but thankfully, the anger had long ago died to a cool ember inside.

Until, of course, Sofia reappeared to stir it to life.

Dino pulled the cotton blanket to his ear, rolled over on one side. Someone pushed a gurney filled with surgical utensils past the door; it rattled like a china service.

He’d become so accustomed to the odors of antiseptic he barely smelled them anymore—that and cotton and rubbing alcohol.

Now however a new smell brushed through his memory—not Lizzy’s sweet lilac aroma, but something exotic, foreign.

Orange blossoms.

We’re going to be okay, Sofia.
His voice filtered back to him, young and broken. He sat next to her on the red vinyl seat of the train, his hand on her back as she turned away from him, stared out the window, silent tears cutting into her chapped cheeks.

And Markos?

He’d had no words, and wanted to throw up.

Not a little of it came from the sheer relief of being away from Uncle Jimmy. And…Markos. Markos scared him—always had. Just a look from Markos turned Dino into a child.

His throat swelled, scratchy.

He’d always believed—or hoped—that Markos had made it to Minneapolis.

Married Sofia.

He rolled onto his back, listening to the springs protest.

The man next to him groaned. “Can’t sleep either?”

Dino stared at the ceiling.

He’d be very proud of you.

“No, he wouldn’t!” He sat up, closing his eyes, rubbing the sweat from his forehead.

“Wouldn’t what?”

Oh no, he had spoken aloud. “Nothin’. Just a dream.”

“Sounds more like a nightmare.” A chuckle that sounded nothing like humor emitted from the lump in the bed. “I’ll tell you what a nightmare is—going out in the morning to collect the milk and landing on your backside, only to have your leg broken in two places. At least, if I was going to break my leg, you’d think I might have a better story for the dames.”

Dino managed a half smile. “It’ll be our secret.”

“As long as you’re up, whadaya say you help a guy out. I got a little nourishment in my jacket pocket.”

“I don’t think the nurses would much like that.” Dino slipped out of bed, however, tiptoed over in the darkness, and lifted the water pitcher on the table. He poured a glass and padded over to the bed. “Here you go.”

The man pushed up on one arm. “Thanks, but I was actually talking about my Bible. I’m feeling a bit parched.”

Dino raised an eyebrow but fished through the man’s belongings piled on the metal table next to the bed until he came upon a pocket Bible. He handed it over as the man used his triangle to hoist himself
to a sitting position. “I don’t suppose you’d turn on my light? There’s no one here but us, I think.”

Dino flicked on the bedside lamp. Light haloed over a younger man—maybe eighteen. Skinny, with striking blue eyes, oiled blond hair, a crooked smile. A real Bible-thumper type, the kind Dino had seen on the street during the Minneapolis summer crusades when the do-gooders hit the corners for sidewalk evangelism. A few had even made it onto the university campus.

Dino shuffled back to his bed, grabbed the pillow off it. Maybe he could find a place in the doctors’ lounge—

“‘Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile. When I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long. For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me: my moisture is turned into the drought of summer.’”

“What are you doing?” Dino stood at the foot of the bed, hands tight in the pillow.

“Reading aloud. Would you rather I sing it? It
is
a psalm.”

“Please, no.”

“Tomorrow’s church. I figure, since I’m going to miss it, I should probably fill up now.” He cleared his voice.

Dino didn’t move.

“‘I acknowledge my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord; and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin—’”

“I haven’t sinned, if that’s what you’re driving at.”

The man looked up at him. “I didn’t say you did.”

Dino stared at the pillow.

“But you did sit up in bed and scream.”

“That wasn’t a scream.”

The man smiled. “Name’s Billy. And let’s just call it a nightmare.”

“I wasn’t even asleep.”

“Then that’s a pretty powerful regret.”

“I have to get some sleep.”

“Fat chance, with that kind of guilt.”

“Listen, if you weren’t already laid up—”

“What? You’d lay me out?” Billy closed the Bible, handed it over to Dino, who stared at it as if it might be one of Uncle Jimmy’s pineapples. “You’re fighting the wrong person, Doc.”

“I think you belong in the crazy ward.” Dino set the Bible on the table, held his hands up, backing away.

Billy smiled. “Maybe I’m not the only one. Turn off the light on your way out, will you?”

Dino left the room, leaving the light on, stalked down the hall. Margie Neider raised her head at the nurses’ desk. “Are you okay, Doctor?”

He stopped at the desk. No. Maybe.
He’d be very proud of you.

Of whom? Dino? Or Danny Scarpelli?

For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me
.

He saw Sofia shuffling away as the darkness closed around her.
We each made our choices. It’s okay…um, Danny.

“Okay, fine.”

The nurse looked up at him, startled. So maybe he should check
himself
into the crazy floor.

“Do you have paper and a pen?”

She nodded, pulling a blank sheet from the drawer, handing it over with a pen.

He carried it to the doctors’ lounge, flicked on the light, poured a cup of coffee, and sat at the table.

Dear Lizzy,

I know you didn’t expect to hear from me until New Year’s, but I can’t seem to get you out of my mind.
What’s more, I have to tell you something
… I want to ask you something, but before I do, I guess I need to tell you the truth about me. You see, I wasn’t always Danny Scarpelli. In fact, I’m not legally the son of the Scarpellis at all. I’m from Greece. My real name is Dino. I had a brother, Markos, and together we came over about ten years ago. I met the Scarpellis on a ship, and they adopted me.

Well, not legally. In fact, I’m technically not yet a citizen. But I will be. I should have told you long ago, and I’m sorry.

I love you, and I wanted to put things right between us before you came back. I pray you will have me, still.

    
Yours,
    
Danny
—Dino Stavros

No. What was he trying to do? Destroy his life? Just because he’d run face-first into his past didn’t mean it had to derail him. He wasn’t Markos—or Theo. He wasn’t going to let one decision made in the throes of emotion destroy his life. He’d worked too hard to get to this place. To become Danny Scarpelli.

He crumpled the letter and tossed it in the trash.

“Is there a radio in here?”

The voice roused him as he lay on his side, wedged into the short length of the spongy lounge davenport. His neck screamed when he pushed to a sitting position, the hot seams of the vinyl drawn into his face. His mouth tasted as if he’d chewed on cotton batting.

The sun fanned through the flimsy curtains at the window, dust particles swimming through a high beam of light. Outside, the sun allowed a blue-skied day. No blizzard today.

“Turn it on.” He recognized Phyllis’s sharp tones as she leaned against the wall, her face wan. She closed her arms over her white uniform.

“What’s going on?” He tried to smooth down his hair, suck the cotton from his teeth.

“Shh!” Phyllis barked at him.

Static filled the room while his intern roommate—Beanie McPhearson—fiddled with the radio in the corner.

“What time is it?”

“After noon,” another voice said, and Dino caught Reg’s dark expression as he entered the room, leaned against the wall. “Planning to sleep the day away?”

“No—”

“We’re at war, okay? So shut your yap.” Reg exploded off the wall, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, shot Dino a glare as he walked to the window.

War? Dino tried to sort through his words even as the voice of a newscaster finally cleared the static.

“…7:55 a.m. this morning, the first of the Japanese airborne attacks hit the Pacific fleet, lined up at Battleship Row, at the base in Pearl Harbor.”

Pearl Harbor.

Dino stilled. Jerry Spenser was stationed in Pearl, right? On a ship—the
California
?

Or…was it the
Arizona
?

“The second attack came an hour later, but by that time the great Arizona had already sunk, taking 1300 souls with her.”

No… He tightened his hand on the back of the sofa. Certainly Lizzy wasn’t near the damage. Certainly she lay in the sun on some resort beach…

We’re going to stay with him on base—

“Even now, rescue is underway in the greasy, burning harbor, and the smoke from Hickam Field fills the countryside…”

Hickam Air Field—that wasn’t near the naval yard, was it?

Beanie turned the volume down. “That’s it. I’m going down to the recruiter’s right now. I’m going to sign up.”

Reg let smoke unfurl from his mouth. “Just calm down, Beanie. The draft board will come after you soon enough.” His gaze flicked to Dino. “At least some of us.”

Dino frowned at him, got up. “Turn the volume back up.”

Beanie adjusted the volume, even as Phyllis covered her mouth with her hand. A few other nurses had filtered into the lounge. One wiped her glistening cheeks.

Dino moved over to the radio, placed both hands on the table, leaned close.

“President Roosevelt and his cabinet are convening to form a response to this sudden and vicious attack—”

“What about the naval base?” Dino yelled at the radio.

“Geez, Danny, calm down—”

Dino rounded on Reg, nearly grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, nearly—

He stalked out of the room, down the hall, stopping at the desk where Margie sat, tears running down her face. Another radio ticked off the news.

“Locals are being asked to give blood, and the hospitals are overrun with soldiers, many suffering terrible burns.”

He slammed his hand on the desk. Blew out a breath. Combed his fingers through his hair. Turning to Margie, “I need to make a call.”

She stared up at him, unseeing.

He grabbed the phone and dialed Lizzy’s home. The butler answered, a needle-nosed man who’d never seemed to like him. “It’s—Danny. Scarpelli. I need to know where Lizzy and her family were staying.”

“Mr. Scarpelli—”

“Doctor.”

“They are staying at the Pearl Harbor Naval Base, by special request of Captain Spenser—”

“I need a number.”

Silence.

“Please.” He closed his eyes, hating how his voice trembled.

Silence. Finally, “Just a moment, sir.” He heard shuffling, then he came back on. “I have an address. You can send a telegram.”

He took the address down on his palm, unable to find paper.

A line a half-block long snaked out of the downtown post office. Dino formed the telegram a thousand times in his head before he reached the counter.

He had it half-recited before the woman could transcribe it. She seemed to be shaking, even…crying.

He took a breath, started over. “Send it to the naval base at Pearl Harbor.”

The woman pinched her mouth, swallowed hard, didn’t look at him. Nodded.

“To Elizabeth Elaine Spenser. Stop. Please update me on your status. Stop. Crazy with worry. Stop.”

To this, the woman raised her head. Her eyes watered. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, pressed it to her eyes, kept writing.