All Good Women (16 page)

‘Hello, Wanda.' Howard's voice. Betty was giggling. Wanda looked at her brother and sister and then down at their empty plates. Embarrassed, she turned to the chilly chicken and ate as fast as she could, trying not to think of prunes when the fowl slithered down her throat.

As they cleared their plates, she looked again for Roy because they always met after supper for a walk to the edge of camp. Howard caught her glance and said, ‘Roy's gonna meet you later. I told him I needed to discuss something with you.'

‘Oh.' Wanda looked at him curiously. Although he was head of the house now, he never made decisions for them. Whatever his concern was, it must be serious. Did he want to ask her advice about Carolyn? ‘Sure,' she answered finally. ‘Shall we go for a walk?'

They waved to Betty, who was collecting a sick tray for Mama.

After supper, camp was as noisy as it ever got. People chatted in front of the barracks. Friends strolled in the cool air, the only time of day comfortable for socializing. The old men sat in groups, playing
goh
and
shoji
.
Wanda nodded to Katherine and Jean, the two middle-aged sisters who worked in the infirmary. They were laying a fence around their bonzai garden. Mr Sukamoto was painting his window frame a deep blue. Odd how your expectations scaled down here, how you became houseproud about two dingy rooms in a barracks. Dingy — very few of them were dingy any more thought Wanda. If they had stayed at the racetrack Katherine and Jean would probably have transformed their horsestall into an elegant mews studio.

Howard was silent until they reached the edge of camp. He headed directly for the bench Roy had built. Wanda felt odd sitting here with Howard. Sharing it with someone other than Roy violated the spirit of the place. Still, she was touched that Howard needed her advice. When they were little, the year between them was painful to Wanda. She tried a hundred ways to get her brother to notice her but she remained, always, his insignificant kid sister, the burden he had to walk home from school, the female he refused to play catch with, the girl who couldn't be interested in serious endeavors like stamp collecting and marble shooting. When he did deign to play with her, it was on sufferance. Mama promised this would change with adolescence and she was right. Soon after his first date, he began to perceive Wanda's special kind of wisdom. And she was only too happy to advise about Mary and Julia. Later, he was delighted to return the favor by introducing her to Roy.

‘So,' Howard said, just as in his early dating days, as if making a statement, as if implying she had summoned him.

‘So.' Her familiar volley.

‘I wanted to ask some advice.'

‘I guessed that.'

‘Have you heard of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team?'

‘No,' she answered. ‘A film?' She felt a cool breeze along her neck; this was nothing as easy as a film.

‘It's an all Japanese-American division of the army.' He paused.

She stared at length, trying to detour her imagination. ‘But I heard they put all the
Nisei
soldiers in clerical posts, unfit for service.'

‘Well, this is relatively new. They're thinking about drafting us too.'

‘You've got to be joking?'

‘No, Mr Watson knows all this stuff because his brother's in Washington.' Howard frowned.

‘They're keeping us in prison and drafting us from here?' Her voice was strangled.

‘Not the women.' He was momentarily confused. ‘Anyway, I want to enlist.'

‘You what?'

‘They're never going to believe our loyalty until we're on the line. I want to show them this is
our
country.' He was pacing in front of the fence.

‘It's a fairly one-sided relationship.'

‘Wanda, be reasonable. I knew Mama would be upset, but I was counting on your support.'

Head in her hands now, she felt like a buckling wall. Everyone was leaning on her — Mama, Betty, Howard, Roy, Carolyn. She was everyone's confidante. And suddenly she recognized another implication of Howard's decision. University was out of the question. Betty and Mama could hardly cope alone. And would he die too? Where would it end? What were the borders of anguish and loss? She felt her tears and then his hand on her shoulder.

‘Don't cry,' he said. ‘I'll be OK.'

The tears were for herself and she was snagged between fury and guilt. Of course she should be worried about him. She must stop the madness. ‘No, Howard, you can't go.' She spoke from an ineffable moral authority. ‘If you don't believe me, talk with your friends. Talk to Roy, surely …'

His long face stopped her.

‘Oh, no,' she railed. ‘No!'

‘He wants to talk with you, himself.'

‘What's the point in that? What's the point in this? You don't want to talk; you want to tell. You don't want advice; you want support. Well, I'm not a filling station.' She knew she would regret the meanness, but her heart pounded with the fever of relentless desert mornings. ‘You've made up your minds. I'm not going to tell you you're right, because you're wrong.' She stood up. ‘Wrong!'

Wanda marched back to the barracks like a mad woman, her face set against the evening wind, refusing to see neighbors, pretending not to hear their greetings, averting her eyes from the tall figure waving to her from beneath the flagpole. She looked straight ahead to the security of their rooms. As she opened the door to find Betty clearing up after Mama's barely eaten meal, she felt part of herself turn to stone. Glancing in the mirror over the trunk, she noticed the tight set of her own brow and the firmness of her jaw.

Chapter Thirteen

Winter 1942–3, San Francisco

SOVIETS LAUNCH UKRAINE OFFENSIVE

JAPANESE EVACUATE GUADALCANAL

NORWEGIANS DESTROY HEAVY WATER
FACTORY AT VEMORK

CAROLE LOMBARD DIES IN PLANE CRASH

JOE LOUIS KNOCKS OUT BUDDY BAER

ANN GLANCED INTO THE
TALL
mirror
above the sideboard as she sorted the cutlery from Sunday lunch. Moira had forgotten to dry several forks and as Ann picked them up she noticed water stains on the oak counter. So like Moira, well intentioned, but a little lacking on follow-through. Ann tried to catch her face in the mirror like this before she had a chance to set it in a pose of indifference or objective scrutiny from which she could perceive nothing. Here for a second, she saw a slightly lowered right eyelid, a winter pale complexion, a general fatigue which concealed something — defeat, fear? Displeased with the image, she looked in the mirror over her own shoulder to Teddy stretched long on the parlor couch, staring at the ceiling and listening to the radio. ‘Japanese troops secured four more islands yesterday …' The announcers had become part of the family, soothsaying uncles. Ann thought how she used to hate the radio because of the inane music and comedy programs. Now she hated it because of the news. She felt guilty if she wasn't listening to Edward R. Murrow or Walter Winchell, but the very sound of their voices removed her to a different, dangerous reality. Still, she stared at Teddy, who seemed to be listening as if they were announcing horse races. Not that Teddy was callous, she was simply more fatalistic. Suddenly Teddy glanced into the mirror, catching Ann's stare quizzically; she was not defensive as Ann, herself, might have been.

‘How're you doing?' Teddy inquired softly.

‘OK.' Ann sighed. ‘Just grateful for a quiet afternoon.'

‘You can say that again. What with work and family and all I don't expect I properly relax until Friday night. Can you imagine if we had kids too?'

Ann shook her head, thinking about the surprise and sincerity in Teddy's voice. At times like this Teddy reminded Ann of her brother Daniel's ingenuousness. He was always set on making the world a better place. Who would have guessed he would wind up marching through Europe? It had been weeks since she had heard from him. It did no good to worry. She walked over and shut off the radio.

Teddy looked up, surprised.

‘Oh, sorry,' Ann said, distracted. ‘You were listening.' She bent down.

‘No don't bother. I'd rather talk to you.'

Ann leaned against the armchair, buoyed with appreciation for her friend, for their house, for the refuge — however temporary it might be. ‘I've got an idea.' She startled herself with her own enthusiasm. ‘Let's have a little party, nothing elaborate, just a few friends. To dispel headaches and heartaches and to revive our old spirit. This place has turned into a rest home.'

‘Well.' Teddy paused, pulled her legs around and sat straighter. ‘Sounds OK to me.' Her hesitation came from some vague sense of betrayal to Wanda. Then she reckoned that Wanda would hardly mind; she would enjoy the party gossip. ‘Sure, why not? Might get Moira out of herself. She could find a new boyfriend.'

‘Speaking of which,' Ann lit a cigarette, ‘did you hear she's going to have a “civilized drink” with Randy? She ran into him at the movies last night.'

‘Oh.' Teddy tried to ignore the turmoil in her stomach. Of course it made sense for Moira to be talking to him again since they lived in the same neighborhood.

‘How about two weeks from Saturday?' Ann marvelled again at her initiative. She felt revived already and was tempted to inspect herself in the mirror.

‘Can't.' Teddy knew Ann would be surprised that she had prior plans. ‘I agreed to go out that night with Dawn and her friend Sandra. It would be hard to change because Sandra is only down from Martinez on weekends.'

‘Oh, I think you told me about her.' Ann waited for Teddy to elaborate. She didn't want to push, although she was curious. Teddy never went out with anyone except her family or with Moira and herself.

‘Did I?' Teddy was flustered. Since she was always self-­conscious talking about Dawn, it was possible she had forgotten­.

‘Three weeks then?'

‘Sure,' said Teddy, running a hand through her hair. She fiddled with the bobbypin behind her ear, wondering why she was so reluctant. In the past, she had been the one who wanted to get the girls together, to hold them together. Something about this party didn't seem quite right. But, Ann was like Moira, when she set her mind on a plan, there was no changing.

‘Speaking of how people are,' Ann shut the kitchen door and moved closer to Teddy, ‘you seemed quiet over lunch. Something happening at home again?'

‘Home,' mused Teddy, ‘guess I do think of that place as home still. Can you have two homes?'

‘All of us do. Maybe until we get married.'

Teddy closed her eyes. ‘Mom said something to me last week. “Remember this will always be your home.” I said “yes”, and nodded gratefully, but how could I go back to that tiny, crowded little house? I look around at the doilies and the curtains and the popcorn bedspreads we brought from Oklahoma and the table Virgil made and I think, yes, this is where I came from. Part of me hasn't left. But I wouldn't fit in now, not with Hank's kids. I don't think I could cope any more with Pop's drinking in a daily way. And my notions have outgrown that place. I wanted to turn back to Mom and say, “You've got a home with me whenever you want it”.'

‘I know what you mean.' Ann sat down at the end of the couch, leaving plenty of room in case Teddy wanted to stretch again. She loved to see Teddy claim the length of her long body. She imagined that she was living with a particularly large and friendly cat.

‘But the fact is I couldn't pull her away from Pop. Despite his drinking — because of it — I don't know. Anyway, they're kind of one person in a way. I just don't think there's a thing I can do.'

Ann studied Teddy's bewilderment, appreciating her opening up like this. You couldn't call Teddy a cold person. In fact she was often so concerned with others, so intent on filling the house with cheer or settling the differences between herself and Moira that she became almost disembodied.

‘I think you're right.' Ann patted Teddy's ankle. ‘It's like visiting Mama. I know it's important just to make an appearance.'

‘But the worst thing,' Teddy shook her head to keep from crying, ‘is that I don't know if it's for me I'm appearing or for them.'

‘Probably both.' Ann put her hand on Teddy's shoulder. She wanted to tell her it was all right to cry, but frankly she wasn't sure. What would she do with this giant woman rolling over Niagara Falls? Could she put the pieces back together? She remembered this sharp, anxious feeling from her childhood.

‘When am I gonna figure out what they need? I'm already twenty-five.'

‘Maybe the point is to figure out what
you
need.'

‘I have what I need.' Teddy looked surprised when Ann didn't nod as she expected her to. She pressed on urgently. ‘I have my friends, this home, you know, my job. No, I don't think I need to be wondering more about myself.'

Ann waited. There was so much she didn't understand about Teddy. Was she really happy being a secretary in a department store? Maybe she, herself, was the odd one for wanting to be a teacher. In many ways, Teddy was the model of realism.

‘Anyway, the party.' Teddy sat straighter. ‘It'll be great. Let's draw up a list tonight. Moira will be thrilled.'

Right, Ann nodded, resigned to Teddy's implacable shyness.

Teddy stood
in front of
t
he bathroom mirror, moving her head like a frantic prairie dog over the collars of two dresses — one a navy shirtwaist and the other a brown tweed suit. Ridiculous is what this was. She never worried about clothes. She always thought Wanda's and Moira's preoccupation with wardrobe was a quaint feminine custom that bordered too close to frivolous when they stayed overlong in the bathroom. But she felt some special charge about tonight. When Dawn said she and Sandra wanted to take her to a ‘club', she felt stripped. Maybe people were obsessed with costume because they needed to hide. Clothes provided a means of fitting in or standing out in a ‘role' you had developed to cover yourself. Interesting as this speculating was, it didn't make the choice between brown and navy any easier. She could hardly ask Ann's or Moira's advice. They would just start in with questions about where she was going.

She hadn't said anything to Dawn about her feelings for Angela. Nor had Dawn been forthcoming about Sandra, although she had been unable to suppress a smile when showing her picture. Still, Teddy knew Dawn was a homosexual and she suspected Dawn knew she was. But was she truly? No, she was just in love with Angela Bertoli. Simply thinking this made her blanch. When was the girl going to write back? Noticing her chalky face in the mirror, she remembered it was rude to monopolize the bathroom on Saturday night. Besides if she didn't get moving, Ann and Moira would start in with those questions.

Back in her room, Terry decided on — or became reconciled to — the brown suit. It was more comfortable, less showy. If she could only find something to make her invisible. If she was so nervous, why was she going? Well, she felt a certain loneliness. Although she didn't really figure herself a homosexual, she liked being able to talk to Dawn about Angela. Besides, she was curious about this club, no two ways about it.

‘Bye, Teddy,' Ann called on her way out the front door.

‘See you later, hon,' shouted Moira.

‘Right,' she called back. ‘Enjoy the movie.' She wished she was going to see
For Whom The Bell Tolls
with them. ‘Catch you tonight, or maybe tomorrow morning. Don't worry if I'm late.' She babbled on. What were they going to think? For sure she'd get the third degree at lunch tomorrow.

‘OK, we won't,' Moira called.

Teddy decided not to interpret Moira's tone of voice.

She scrambled for her shoes. She was going to be late for supper at the Glass Boat, another place she had never heard of — around the corner from the Quiet Cat Club. Sounded like a chapter from
Dr Doolittle
.
As she buttoned her coat at the front door, Teddy wondered if she had this figured all wrong. Maybe, she felt a shade of disappointment, this was just going to be a sedate evening with two friends.

In the dark alley
outside
the Quiet Cat, Teddy shifted from one foot to another. It was ten o'clock by the time they arrived at the door of the bar. Dawn kept fussing that it was still too early for any life, but Sandra had rushed them to the club because this was Teddy's first night. Teddy had blinked, since this implied that she would be invited again.

Dawn leaned on the bell and Sandra stood on her toes peering, impatiently, into the tiny window. It was a blustery evening and Teddy rubbed her hands to keep warm. She thought how much she enjoyed Sandra, who made Dawn laugh and feel embarrassed in a way that opened up a whole new person. They even seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces. Sandra was thin, almost stringy, while Dawn was stocky. Both were 8 or 9 inches shorter than herself, Teddy reckoned. Despite Sandra's frail appearance, she was highly animated, a refreshing counterpoint to the laconic Dawn. For the first part of the evening, Teddy felt self-conscious about socializing with two colored women. She hadn't spent any time with Negroes since Oklahoma, where, much to her parents' dismay, she made friends with Anita Green and liked to hang out at the Greens' in the evening, laughing and eating their spicy foods. There was a separateness to the races in Fortun, Oklahoma, but nothing like in California. Although Mom and Pop objected to her friendship with Anita, they often ran into Negroes on the streets and passed courtesies. Certainly the blacks and whites wound up on the same road west once the dust hit. When they got to California, one of the most noticeable things was that all the folks in the stores where they shopped were white. It wasn't until she finished high school that she began to comprehend ‘Northern' segregation.

Both Sandra and Dawn had their backs to her now. She could turn and disappear around the corner. They would understand her nervousness. They would forget about her in half an hour and start having a fine time with their friends. Teddy smiled and shook her head at her own cowardice. She thought how much she wanted to tell Dawn and Sandra about Anita, but she feared they might find it odd. They might take offense. She didn't want to sound over-eager for their friendship. An easiness had grown between them during dinner. Funny that she hadn't thought about Anita for years, not even after months of lunches with Dawn. They tended to talk mostly about the Emporium or about Stockton Street or, more recently, about Angela and Sandra. There was something about Sandra that evoked childhood days and old feelings.

‘She's coming.' Sandra's voice was high-pitched, almost like Gracie Allen, when she got excited.

‘About time.' Dawn scolded someone through the wrought iron grille.

Teddy felt as if she were at a 1920s speakeasy. She couldn't decide whether the gurgling in her stomach was excitement or fear.

Slowly, they adjusted their eyes to the light. Teddy coughed several times, from the thickness of the smoke and the tart, sour smell of liquor. A few delicate men sat at the far end. But most of the people in the bar appeared to be women.

‘New one with you?' A tough blond woman with red earrings greeted Dawn.

‘Yeah, a friend,' Dawn responded brusquely. ‘Come on girls, let's requisition a table before the hordes invade.'

Sandra pointed to a place half-way down the room, against a wall.

As they settled themselves on rickety wooden chairs, Dawn turned to Teddy. ‘I woulda introduced you to Gretta, but I didn't know how public you wanted to be.'