Page 68 of The Girls of Pearl Harbor
‘You should eat,’ she said gently, reaching to touch his arm and then thinking better of it when he flinched before she’d even made contact. ‘I’m not going to force you, but it’s a waste of good food, and you’re only going to make yourself sick if you don’t.’ She watched him, wishing there were a way she could get through to him. ‘I’m sorry, Arthur. I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but it doesn’t have to define the rest of your life, not if you let me help you.’
She turned to leave him, waiting for a beat, almost expecting him to say thank you or apologize—something,anything. But he didn’t.
Eva walked away and saw Grace with a patient, but her friend paused to give her a quick thumbs-up as she passed.
‘I think he’s warming to you,’ Grace whispered.
‘Warming? He’s as cold as the South Pole!’ Eva muttered.
But when she caught Grace’s eye, she couldn’t help but laugh. And if she hadn’t laughed, she’d have cried.
‘Excuse me—that nurse over there said you’d know where to find a pilot by the name of Arthur?’
Eva looked up at the deep male voice, almost dropping her pen when she found two airmen dressed in uniform standing in front of her.
‘Sorry—I didn’t even hear you approaching. Come this way,’ she said politely, beckoning for them to follow. ‘You’re colleagues of Arthur’s?’
They both nodded.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ the same man said. ‘We thought he was dead. Everyone did.’
Eva sighed. ‘I certainly didn’t think he was going to make it when we found him. He was already half-dead then.’
‘You were the one who found him?’ the other man asked.
Eva slowly nodded as she watched the surprise show on their faces. ‘Yes. I was with two friends, other nurses, and we struggled back with him.’
‘He must be so grateful,’ he said.
Eva laughed and pointed toward Arthur, who they’d moved to the far end of the ward now so he could stare at the blacked-out window. ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’
They both looked confused, and she waved them on, eager to watch Arthur’s response to his visitors.
‘You’ll see soon enough.’
They took off their hats and walked toward him, and Eva pretended to be busy checking something so she could watch. Sure enough, just as she’d expected, they both took a huge step back as Arthur first ignored them and then turned nasty; he yelled at them to leave him the hell alone and folded his arms again, slumped forward and staring at the window.
They were walking back out again within five minutes, heads hanging. She was starting to think she’d done well suffering through his behavior for so long when no one else could handle him for more than a few minutes.
‘I’m guessing he hasn’t always been like that?’ Eva asked when the two men stopped beside her.
They both looked bewildered, the confusion etched on their faces. One of the men ran his fingers through his hair, tears shining in his eyes.
‘That’s not Arthur,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Did he have a head injury? Did something happen to his brain?’
‘Arthur was the best,’ the other said. ‘He was clever and quick witted, never missed a chance to give someone a ribbing, but when it came to flying, he was single minded.’
‘Losing a leg has affected him terribly,’ Eva explained in a low voice. ‘Most men are grateful to live at all, but Arthur’s been difficult since the moment he woke up. I think he wishes he was dead.’ Her tongue struggled around the word, hating the sound of it as it passed her lips.Dead.She’d seen enough death to last her a lifetime, and yet Arthur seemed to resent that he hadn’t died like all the other poor men who’d probably have done anything for a chance at going home, able bodied or not.
‘We’ll come back on our next day of leave. I hope he gets, well, easier.’
Eva nodded and watched them leave. She hoped so too. Nursing him was taking up all her energy, and she alternated between feeling sorry for him and wanting to beat him around the head and scream at him.
She cleared her throat when she approached his bed, although she was certain he knew exactly what was happening around him despite pretending otherwise.
‘Your friends were worried about you,’ she said, checking his water and then picking up his chart to read for something to do. ‘They told me that you weren’t usually so uncommunicative.’
Arthur still didn’t move. Or speak.
