Megiddo's Shadow (12 page)

“It would be bad luck if you went to France and hadn't kissed a girl.”

“I've kissed girls!” I lied.

“You haven't kissed me.”

Emily leaned very close, her sweet rose scent tickling my nostrils. Her breath and mine mingled; then our lips touched. I closed my eyes. Was I supposed to move my lips? Hers were so soft.

“That was nice,” she whispered moments later, leaning against me. “So nice.” I put my arms around her and held her tight. I wanted to keep this moment safe in my heart no matter how long the war lasted.

T
he next day I brushed Buke. As I gently untangled the knots in his mane, his heavy odor reminded me of home.

“Emily is amazing,” I whispered, glancing around to be sure no one was near.

I relived our evening a thousand times. Dining, talking, a show, and a first kiss. Thinking about it made my heart race. And now she was going to leave!

It was crazy to be daydreaming about her, especially during drill. Luckily, I'd made no boneheaded mistakes. Captain Trollope had even complimented me; Buke had again been fidgety and raring to go, but he'd stayed in his place in line.

I walked back to our tent, through slushy mud. At home now, it would be so cold you'd take your life in your hands just going outside. I pushed open the flap and Cheevers jumped right into my face, swinging a letter around like a
flag. “My brother wrote me! We're missing everything! Listen up! ‘Dear Mardy Sourpuss.’” Cheevers paused. “Isn't James funny? Anyway, he writes, ‘Last night Sims, Adcock, Sidney, and me blackened our faces, climbed over the top, clipped the Hun wire, and crawled up to their trench. Quick as a wink Sidney jumped over and bayonetted their watchmen. The rest of us followed, tossing Mills Bombs ahead of us, then mopping up with bayonets. Stab! Twist! Wipe! Stab! Twist! Wipe! I got three; I'm up to five now. We dragged one scrawny, squob-eyed Hun back with us. Adcock pegged out just as we crawled back in—a damn fine shot in the forehead. I'll miss the bugger. Sergeant says we deserve medals, but we settled for an extra rum ration.’” He lowered the letter. “Stab! Twist! Wipe! Now, that's action, eh, Bathe? Eh, Blackburn?”

Jumping the bags! Hand-to-hand combat! All told as though it were just a stroll in the park.

“I doubt it really happened,” Blackburn said. “You do come from a family of grandiose braggarts.”

Cheevers glared. “It happened! Your brother's still picking his nose in Italy.”

Blackburn shook his head. “I need some air.” He marched out of the tent.

Cheevers gave me a wink. “The air in here's clearer now.”

He poured himself a cup of tea from the camp stove and sat down at the small table. “Enough about war! Time to think of love.” He laid out his paper, pen, and ink. “I've got to write another letter to my sweetheart. The problem is … which one?” He tapped his forehead. “I'll write my favorite,
and when I'm done I'll send a copy to my other skirts. Changing the names, of course! Should I ask for gingerbread biscuits this time?”

I shook my head and laughed. Cheevers was doing wrong, but he did it with such relish it was hard to lecture him.

My back ached from all the riding we'd done, and I needed to take a walk, maybe even as far as the aid post. I pulled on my greatcoat and stepped outside.

“You shouldn't listen to Cheevers.” Blackburn was a few steps away, a cigarette glowing in his hand. He let out the smoke. “He loves the glory a little too much.”

“He's a good trooper.”

“Oh, I know that. I'm just saying it's not all about charging like Indian braves. You have to keep a cool head, know when to charge and when to fall down flat. Cheevers is the type who's always charging.”

I'd rather have him at my side than you
, I felt like saying, but instead just replied: “He's my friend.”

“Well, I don't need friends. I need dependable troopers next to me. We don't have to like each other, but I know tactics and I know my job.” He flicked the cigarette skyward. It arced to the ground, scattering ashes across the road.

I tramped away. Blackburn was always reading manuals on fighting. But sometimes knowing or thinking too much could be a bad thing, like that time I read about how to properly swing a baseball bat, and didn't hit a single pitch for ages. Worse was thinking too much about what could happen to you. Every time I pictured Paul's broken body or
Hector's last moments, I got nervous. In battle, images like that could cause me to freeze in the middle of a charge over the trenches.

That was why Cheevers was so good. He wouldn't hesitate for a moment. Like Hector, he'd be a good man to follow.

E
mily was trying to lug her trunk through the side door of the aid post. She was in her blue dress and had tied her hair back. “It's about time you got here!” Her cheeks were flushed as though she'd been running.

“I had to sneak over. I'm on stable duty, but a friend is covering for me. We'll both get field punishment if I'm caught.”

“He must be a good friend.”

Once I'd admitted to Cheevers that I had to see a girl, he'd said, “Get on over there and give her a kiss for me.” I'd have about an hour before Sergeant Applewhite would notice I was out.

“Just one moment, Miss Waters.” Major Purves, the regimental doctor, strode up. He was a tall man with warm eyes. “I couldn't let you go without saying good-bye.” I was suddenly jealous at the way she smiled for him.

“That's kind of you.”

“You're a marvelous nurse. I gave a glowing report to your superior. I'm sure you'll make a splash at Etaples.” He shook her hand and a blush came to her cheeks.

“Thank you, sir! I learned so much from you.”

“You'll do even better work there.” He glanced at me. “You take care of her, Trooper. She's quite the catch.”

“I will!”

Major Purves smiled at us and went back into the aid post.

“The lorry's waiting,” Emily said. I lifted the trunk, surprised to find it so heavy. I imagined what was inside: books, combs, a hand mirror, dresses, and frilly underclothes— everything that helped make her Emily

“Is there an anvil in here?” I asked.

“Two, just so I can see you sweat.”

I lugged the trunk to the truck. The smoke from the driver's cigarette curled out the open cab. I heaved the trunk onto the back of it.

“How long until we go, mac?” she asked the driver.

“Just a bit more load-up to do, duck!”

She took my hand and led me around the side of the building, then folded both her hands over mine. I looked down at them, fascinated at how small they were next to my own. “You treated me well, Edward.” She tightened her grip. “I truly appreciate that. You're a good boy … good man.”

“Thank you.” I'd rehearsed other words:
I really care about you. I think you're wonderful
. Nothing was big enough to express what I needed to say. “You're a good one, too … girl, that is.” I bumbled hopelessly along. “More than that;
you're wonderful and …” Her eyes were so big I lost my tram of thought.

“Chatty as always.” Her smile made me flush with emotion. I likely wouldn't see it again for months, maybe even a year. Or longer. I wanted to hold her tight to me, but I was paralyzed.

The horn honked. “So soon,” she said softly, and pulled her hands away, reaching into the pocket of her dress. She handed me a silver locket. I opened it, discovering a picture of her in her nurse's uniform. She wasn't smiling, but she looked poised and beautiful.

“It's what girls do, I guess—give pictures of themselves to boys.”

“I'll keep it right next to my heart.”

Emily reached out as if she were going to pull a com from my ear. I jumped a little. “I'm not going to pinch you.” She drew me toward her and we kissed gently. I tried to hold her but she'd already backed away. “That was our second kiss.” She put her finger to my lips. “Your lips better not touch another girl or you won't get your third.”

“I'll wait until kingdom come and longer.”

“You won't have to wait that long, I promise.”

I followed her to the back of the truck and helped her climb up. By then three other nurses had boarded, and Emily squeezed in next to them, straightening her skirt as she did. The truck gave a roar, then backfired and growled its way down the road. She waved, looking rather melancholy, and I waved back. My eyes were locked on her as she grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared over a hill.

I
checked my mail every day. A week after she left I received a postcard from Emily with a picture of a field camp hospital in Etaples, a coastal city in France. On the back she'd scribbled:

Truly? Yours truly? Not even
Sweetly yours?
Still, she'd made it safely, and I was being selfish, expecting her to write more. Obviously, she was hard at work.

I wrote back to her immediately:

Two weeks passed without news, though I checked the mail every day. Our squadron rode the twenty-five miles inland to Lincoln to join the entire regiment for further training. Townspeople gathered on the streets and cheered as we rode up the steep hill, past Lincoln Castle.

The barracks were three times the size of ours, with two flanking wings and a large courtyard. We drilled day and night—more than five hundred yeomanry galloping
across the barracks' grounds or cutting through Rise-holme Park. I was astounded by the thudding of hooves and the sound of metal on metal as five hundred swords were drawn at once. Surely our enemy would wilt before us.

On the third day Sergeant Applewhite brought our mail. One letter for Blackburn, from his brother; three from girls for Cheevers; and one from Emily for me. She'd dabbed a bit of perfume on it, which made me sniff like a hound dog before I opened it.

I folded the letter. Only forty-eight hours earlier this paper had been in her warm, petite hands.

“Did your May Queen profess her everlasting love?” Cheevers asked.

“She said they're very busy at Etaples looking after the wounded.”

“At least the poor sods have someone beautiful to care for
them,” Cheevers said. “My girls all hinted they'd like a ring. I have to figure out a way to marry each of them, without the others finding out!”

“Good luck,” I said, already setting out my writing paper.