Prologue
Prologue:
The lights flicked on in their small dorm. Greta groaned, knowing there were about fifty less jarring ways to wake up.
“Damn it, Rico.” She hissed. “Why do you always have to do that?”
“I’ve got to get my kicks where I can,” her bunkmate answered, amusement at Greta’s expense evident in her voice. “Now, get UP Gillowski. That cot is mine for the next eight hours and the clock is ticking.”
“Fuck you.” Greta said, but there was no venom in it. She liked Rico. She always had a soft spot for people who could take it as well as they dished it out. For her part, Rico merely laughed and told Greta to move her ass.
Greta got ready as quickly as she could, shivering as soon as she pulled back the covers.. It was hard to believe her old morning routine used to cost her more than an hour. Everything was stripped down here. Still, her curls were mostly neat as she clipped the forward pieces of hair back with a bobby pin. She slid her red lipstick on, grateful that she still had some in the tube. She didn’t know when she’d be able to get more.
“You’re the prettiest nurse on the unit,” Rico complained. “Do you have to put on lipstick to taunt the rest of us?”
“I’m not. Besides, I like my lipstick. You never know, I just gotta believe my guy is out there.”
Rico snort-laughed. “If you wanted a fellow, you’d have one. But then, you wouldn’t be here in this hellhole, would you?”
Greta felt the familiar wave of panic crest in her body even as she coolly kept her face neutral. She had been so careful since her arrival here. She followed her old rules. She made new ones. She hadn’t had a single dalliance. She knew better now. After subjecting Dana to the consequences of loving her, Greta would never do something that reckless again.
“What do you mean?” Greta asked calmly, returning her practiced gaze to her reflection in her cracked handheld mirror.
Rico shrugged. “It just seems like you’re someone who really values your freedom. Most guys will take that away from you in a heartbeat.”
Greta relaxed, letting out a relieved laugh. She hadn’t been found out. “Ain’t that the truth.” She mumbled in response to Rico.
“Speaking of freedom, you’ll lose your ability to get the hell out of here on your off days if you’re late for your shift. You better get moving.”
A glance at her wristwatch told Greta that Rico was right.
“Yeah. Get the fuck out, Gillowski. I actually need my beauty sleep.”
Greta laughed and closed the door.
Greta thought all of this would be more exciting. The prospect of traveling abroad to serve the war effort sounded so thrilling when she first signed up. The reality hit her hard on her first day. There really wasn’t much difference between the military hospital and the Rockford one she trained in. The doctors still spoke down to the nurses. The shifts were still interminable and exhausting. The monotony from day to day… also the same. Sure, there was more blood here, but even that got old after a while.
Greta checked on her first three patients. None of them had changed. Jay hadn’t woken up. No one expected him to. Isaac submitted to all his tests mutely. He hadn’t said a word since he arrived at the medical center. Jeff tried to flirt with her, the same way he always did. Greta laughed it off… the poor soldier didn’t have a clue and he was mostly harmless.
After that, she checked in on some new arrivals. These guys usually had the most needs, their wounds fresh from battle. Dress the wounds. Check the vitals. Distribute the meds. Rinse and repeat.
Greta always saved her favorite patient for last. She didn’t know when exactly she and Charlie officially became friends, but it happened quickly. He was the only soldier on her wing who had no physical injuries to speak of. He was assigned here for other reasons.
“Gill!” He called out, using a shortened version of her last name, smiling wide. “I was wondering when you might show up.”
“You’re always my last stop, Shaw. You should know that by now.”
“Saving the best for last, I understand.” Charlie nodded, grinning.
“It’s more like I save the most humble for last.” Greta countered.
Charlie laughed loudly and Greta was pleased to see him in good spirits today. He’d recently been prone to fits of melancholy. Being cooped up here would do that to a person.
When he first arrived, he surprised Greta by being the only patient to ask her about her life: not with the goal of scoring a date, but actually wanting to get to know her. He asked about her upbringing, learning that she was born and raised in Chicago before her mother relocated the family to Rockford, Illinois. Charlie lit up when she said the name of his hometown. Their age and gender difference meant they never crossed paths until now. Feeling a kinship with this man, Greta told him things she never told anyone else before. She told him about being raised by a single mother who drank herself into an early grave. She told him about the cruel things her mother would say to her -right until the very end. It wasn’t a pretty story, but it was Greta’s truth.
She learned that both of Charlie’s parents were dead, that he married when he was young to his “best friend.” It was his constant and continual use of that terminology that would have tipped Greta off before she even read his file.
When Greta finally read his file and had her suspicions confirmed, she knew why the other nurses chose to keep their distance and willingly swapped shifts with her. For educated women, they were idiots. No one was going to catch Charlie’s queerness. Just like they hadn’t caught Greta’s.
What surprised Greta the most was Charlie’s ability to clock her. She almost dropped all the playing cards in her hand the first time he asked her about her friend at home… Dorothy. She told him that she hadn’t the faintest idea what he was talking about, but already knew there was something in her voice that gave her away.
From that day forward, their friendship blossomed. Charlie and Greta bonded over their favorite haunts in Rockford, none of which the other had been to. Even so, talking about their hometown brought them closer especially when they were oceans away from the place.
“I know it seems like a small town, but there’s actually a lot to do.” Charlie said.
“It’s weird that I miss it. Damn, I owned that whole scene, played in all the clubs in between my shifts.”
“I play a little too.” He confessed.
“Oh yeah?” Greta asked. “What do you play?”
“Drums.” Charlie answered.
Greta could have predicted that, the way his hands were always in motion. “It’s the keys for me.”
They started talking about music: artists they adored, but more importantly, artists they couldn’t stand.
“Frank Sinatra.” They both agreed.
“Half the time he sings off-key!” Greta yelled.
“He is so flat!” Charlie said, laughing.
The longer they talked about music, the more a plan began to form in their minds.
“When we get out of here, when the war is done, we should form a band.” Charlie was the first to voice the idea out loud, but Greta had been thinking the same thing.
“You’d let a woman join your band?”
“Fuck, Greta.” Charlie swore. “Of course I would. Don’t you know me by now? Besides, the girls have to be twice as good to be half as successful. You’re probably a better musician than I am.”
“I think you mean… I’m definitely a better musician.”
Charlie laughed and didn’t argue.
“There’s a cool cat I played with sometimes back home. Hell of a sax player. Her name’s Maybelle Fox. I think the two of you would get along swimmingly. She’s a nurse too… deployed god knows where.”
“Your wife doesn’t mind? Playing music with these women?” Greta raised her eyebrows.
Charlie shook his head, smiling. “I think you know that she doesn’t mind at all.”
“Tell me more about her?” Greta loved listening to Charlie talk about Carson. She had only seen one picture of her, but it was enough for Greta to imagine the mischievous woman at the center of so many of Charlie’s stories.
“If anything happens to me, you’ll look in on her, right?”
“Charlie…” Greta sighed. “You’re safe in a hospital. I don’t think anything bad is going to happen to you at this point.”
“You never know. We’re still at war. Victory has been coming ‘any day now’ for months. There is no way that the enemy isn’t going to make a final push before this thing is said and done.”
“Even if that’s true, do you really think they would target a field hospital? It’s all injured soldiers and medical staff here. Surely, they would focus on bigger threats?”
Charlie shrugged and Greta saw the ghost of fear pass through his eyes. She decided to play it off and pull him back to the present moment.
“Okay, this is all very dramatic, but it won’t save you from getting your ass handed to you in gin rummy.”
“I’m serious. Greta… promise me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay… fine. I promise that if anything happens to you, I will check on your very pretty wife. I might even steal her from you.”
“Well… I’d be dead, so it doesn’t actually count as stealing my girl. Besides, I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”
“This is so fucking morbid,” Greta laughed darkly.
“Sorry about that.” Charlie shrugged. “But when you’ve seen the things that I have…” That haunted look passed through his eyes once more as his words trailed off.
Greta waited for Charlie to fall back into himself, which he managed to do a few minutes later.
“It’s okay, Shaw.” She reassured him. “I’ve seen a lot of darkness here myself. Sometimes I wonder if the whole world has gone crazy. Best thing to do is take care of each other, right? It’s all we can do when everything goes to hell around us.”
“There is a train…” Charlie said wistfully.
“What?”
“There is a train…” He repeated.
“Charlie, I have no I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He seemed so far away.
“There is a train. It leaves the station at a quarter after five. And where does it arrive? Grand Central Station. And it’s direct.”
He looked up at Greta as if he only just remembered that she was there.
“Shit… sorry Gill… that’s just a thing I remind myself when the thoughts get too dark and too loud.”
“That’s okay.”
“I just know that if we get out of here, our band could really make it… you know?”
“Grand Central station, huh?” Greta nodded, considering. “I’ve always dreamt of going to New York City.”
Now that Charlie knew that Greta always saved her visits to him for last, he had come to know when to expect her. Sure, Greta signed up for the nursing corps because it sounded adventurous and exciting, and it allowed her to get the hell away from Rockford… but she really did want to help people. All her life, her mother instilled in her the firm belief that she was no good for anyone. It hurt whenever Greta remembered the biting and caustic words. She had to know if it was really true. Charlie was the first person who made her think that Lydia Gill might be wrong.
She didn’t know that today would change her whole life.
There are moments, few and far between, that split your life into a before and an after. Unbeknownst to Greta, today would be one for her.
She and Rico indulged in their daily banter. Rico told her to fuck off, as usual. Greta would miss her when she finally returned home. Her tour only had a week left and Greta was already missing… not necessarily the place, but the people.
By the time she got to Charlie’s room, she was dead-tired. His prediction that the fighting would intensify as the war drew to a close proved an accurate one. The field hospital was as crowded as Greta had ever seen it.
“You look like hell, Gillowski.” Charlie said when she walked in.
“I feel worse.” Greta admitted.
“You’re not up for getting your ass kicked at cards, then?”
“Do you mind if we just talk?”
“That’s fine with me,” Charlie shrugged. “You know no one else will talk to me and it’s nice to have the company.”
“People are stupid.” Greta practically spat.
“They really are,” Charlie agreed.
A quiet lingered on the air. Charlie seemed heavy with sadness today.
Eventually, it was Greta who spoke. “There is a train…” She gave Charlie a small smile. Greta watched as his shoulders loosened.
“There is a train.” Charlie repeated and he seemed to return to the present moment.
He gave a soft sigh and shook his head. “Thanks, Gill.”
Greta laughed. “You know that’s not my name, Shaw.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know, but it’s fun to give you a hard time.”
“Whatever makes you happy.” Greta rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
“Speaking of happy… what do you think a guy has to do to get a set of drums in here?”
“They’re never going to give you drums. This is a hospital, Charlie.”
“Did I ever tell you about the set I played with some of the guys? Back before all this?”
“I don’t think so,” Greta said. She pulled up a chair to listen to Charlie tell his story.
“We’d been here for about a month. You know what that adjustment is like. You’re sold a story and the reality turns out to be… well, different. Anyway, I could tell that the guys I arrived with were having a hard time, so those of us that played got together to perform a set of standards. You know, the songs that reminded us of home.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar.” Greta found herself suddenly longing for her record collection. Her hands were twitching, desperate to find a set of ivories.
“We started playing… and it was like we were somewhere else. We transformed that wet muddy base into the hottest club.”
“That sounds amazing. I would have loved to see it.”
“You will, when we have our band.”
Greta tried not to let herself get too excited. Any time she ever had a modicum of hope, it was quickly dashed. She learned not to let her brain run away with any high expectations. Still, Greta smiled.
“I wish I had my sticks in my hands.” Charlie said. “The drums are the only thing I was ever good at.”
“Not me,” Greta laughed, feigning a cockiness that came as second nature to her at this point. “I’m good at lots of things. But playing is the only thing I truly love doing.”
“I understand. Do you play anything other than the keys?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you, but you have to swear to never breathe a word of this to anyone for as long as you live.”
“I promise.” Charlie said, crossing his fingers where she could see them.
“LIAR!” She called out, acting scandalized.
“Okay… okay.” Charlie surrendered. “I swear I won’t say anything… now, will you tell me?”
“Fine.” Greta huffed. “I play the accordion.”
“Seriously?” Charlie asked, looking like Christmas just came early.
“Don’t start with me, Shaw.” Greta threatened, glad that this piece of information seemed to at least cheer Charlie up.
It was almost sunset when Greta headed to the nurses’ desk to file her daily reports. No one was around and Greta was thankful for small mercies. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. All she wanted was her bunk, a thin blanket, and the ability to close her eyes and sleep.
She dismissed the noise at first, a loud banging sound off in the distance. It was probably just a truck backfiring. The sound became harder to ignore the second time… then the third. It grew louder and closer.
Alarms blared overhead and the hospital sprang into action.
“Get to a truck!” An orderly yelled to everyone and no one in particular.
“We’re under attack! MOVE!” Someone else called out.
Another loud noise and one of the walls crumbled, sending dust and debris everywhere.
Panicked, Greta froze, unable to duck, unable to move… unable to do anything but stand rooted in place. The dorms were on the other side of the wall that collapsed, which meant that Rico was-
Everyone was running, trying to get to a truck and evacuate. Greta stayed planted in place.
“Gillowski!” Someone was calling her name but it sounded far away, like the voice was coming from the other side of a tunnel.
“GILLOWSKI!” The voice called again. Her field of vision threatened to fade to darkness.
“GILL!”
Greta’s vision cleared and she recognized the face of Charlie Shaw.
“We’ve got to get out of here, Greta.”
“I can’t… I can’t move.” She managed to say.
“You have to. Come on.”
When Greta still didn’t budge, he tried something else.
“There is a train… come on, Gill.”
“There is a train,” she repeated.
Another explosion burst in the distance.
“It leaves the station…” Charlie started. “When does it leave?”
“At a quarter after five.”
“Come on,” Charlie encouraged, extending the hand not holding his weapon. Greta took it.
“And it’s direct.” They said at the same time as they started to move.
The bangs were louder and more frequent. Greta knew now that they were the sounds of gunfire and explosions. She followed Charlie, trailing a step behind him as he led them to the evacuating trucks and safety… she hoped.
Outside the building, Greta was greeted with her first true taste of a warzone. Charlie returned fire with whoever was shooting at them, making sure to put his body between danger and Greta.
“I’ll cover you.” He told her. “All we have to do is get across this courtyard. When I say go, you run like hell, all right?”
Greta felt her voice leave her once more.
“Greta! Answer me!”
“All right.” She managed to say.
“Okay… in three… two… one… let’s go!”
Greta wasn’t sure how she managed to make her legs work, but fueled by adrenaline and terror, she ran. Her arms pumped as fast as she could make them and she hardly noticed how her lungs were gasping for air.
She made it to an idling truck, reaching out her hand for help up into its bed. Once she was on board, she turned for Charlie, who was right there, ready to leap himself.
It all happened in slow motion.
He grinned, the smile wide as it stretched across his face. “Looks like we’re going to get out of this one, Gill-” Then, he was gone.
Greta was a nurse. She knew how much blood the human body contained. Seeing it, though? Seeing someone she cared for end up like that? She heaved the contents of her stomach as the truck drove away.
In the middle of the night, half a world away, Carson Shaw woke up with a start.
When the telegram arrived two days later, she didn’t need to open it to know the message inside.
Still, when she saw the words on the page, getting confirmation of what she already knew in her heart, she collapsed into her sister’s arms and sobbed.
END OF PROLOGUE