With the story apparently at an end, Josh found himself a bit confused. “What does it mean?” he asked politely.

  Penelope was clearly affronted by his question. “What does the story of Adam and Eve mean?” she demanded.

  “Well, that story included a warning against eating from the tree of wisdom,” Josh replied, after a moment’s thought. “It had a moral, I guess you might say.”

  “So our story has a moral as well,” Penelope replied. “Don’t get caught with your tail hanging out.”

  Josh thought that was funny, so despite his best intentions he laughed. She watched him with a dark frown. “Tell me another one,” he said, trying to get back into her good graces.

  “I will tell it, but no laughing,” she said pointedly. Josh promised to never laugh again, and she said, “There are many tales of brothers on these islands. They have many names, but all of them are mischievous, and they are always getting into trouble. Once upon a time, there were two brothers, Tengo and Qat, and they decided to steal wives. Qat stole his wife from Malaita, which meant he would be forever unhappy. Malaitan women argue about everything and always want more than any husband could possibly provide. They also go pffft at their men very often. That is a sign of great disrespect from a pickaninny woman to a man. Anyway, Tengo, desiring to avoid a Malaitan wife, decided to kidnap a sky maiden instead. He found one bathing in a spring one day and hid her wings. To avoid starvation, she had no choice but to marry him. One day, her mother-in-law hit her for being lazy, and she started to cry, so much that her tears washed away the dirt hiding her wings. She put them on and flew away. This made Tengo very angry, so he tied a banyan root to an arrow and shot it into the sky, where it lodged in the sky-world. He climbed it and met a man using a machete to open coconuts and begged him not to cut the root. Then Tengo found his wife and forced her to return with him. The man with the coconuts, seeing this, cut the root, and Tengo fell to his death while his wife flew away.”

  Josh kept his countenance completely serious. “I suppose the moral to that story is it’s better to marry a Malaitan and be unhappy than a sky-woman and be dead.”

  “Sometimes I believe you to be quite perverse,” Penelope accused, even as she hid a smile by looking away.

  “You are a good storyteller,” he said, which, though she kept her head turned, he could tell pleased her, more than a little.

  After the meal, when the long shadows of the waning day had turned into the infinite darkness of the jungle, they went inside the hut, and it didn’t take much convincing for Josh to happily lie aboard Penelope again, which seemed to give her so much joy. Even as he was placing a leg over her, though, Josh knew that he was of one mind and she another. He had the odd thought that he would fix it all later, that explanations would be made, and when they parted, all would be well between them. But as they clung to one another, she said, “I love you, Josh darling,” and Josh felt his blood run cold. Then she moved against him and it ran hot again, and he gave in to it. I am a bad man, he thought to himself. I don’t care was his answer. I’ll fix it later was his further thought when he woke during the night. The shadows of generations of other men in his situation nodded their heads with understanding.

  The next morning, Josh woke to the sound of boots on the earth and the nearly inaudible clunk of canteens muffled by rags. He knew this could mean but one thing. He roused Penelope, and she led him to the edge of a clearing where they could hide in the tall grass and still have a good view of the mountain slope. There were at least thirty of them, and they were coming fast, the mist swirling off the grass from their churning boots, the bayonets attached to their rifles flashing in the morning sun. They carried no rucksacks, nothing to weigh them down except water, guns, and bandoliers of ammunition.

  Josh took a moment to admire them. No other army could move as fast as the Japanese Imperial Army when it was on the attack. He watched a mortar team go by, three tiny men humping huge loads on their backs but keeping up with the others. A machine-gun team went by, similarly loaded. Then, to his surprise, a line of stragglers stumbled into view. Their uniforms hung on their scrawny bodies, and they were having to stop every hundred yards or so to lean on their rifles to catch their breaths. New Georgia had taken its toll on these men, but they were still fighting. Jap don’t give up easy.

  Josh tried to figure out where they might be going. “Jap must be after something good to be in such a hurry,” he said as much to himself as Penelope.

  “The village in which we stayed our first night together is at the end of this path,” she advised.

  “Why would they attack an empty village?”

  “Perhaps it isn’t empty anymore.”

  “How far away is it?”

  “They are going the long way. This path goes down and up and around to the sea and then across a small river. Maybe three miles.”

  “So there’s a shorter way.”

  “Yes. But it is a bit of a scramble.”

  “Then let’s take the scramble. I’d like to know what they’re up to.”

  “Of course.” Penelope paused, then asked, “Do you love me, Josh darling?”

  Josh was astonished by the question, though he’d expected it. “I only met you a couple of days ago,” he said in his defense.

  “I do not recall asking you how long we’ve known one another,” she replied, and supplied a deep frown.

  “We will talk about it later.”

  “We will talk about it now. Do you love me?”

  Josh knew he was going to have to answer one way or the other, so he said, with neither preamble nor elaboration, “Yes.” It was taking the easy way out, but he was, after all, in a hurry.

  Penelope threw herself into his arms, kissed him tenderly (which made him feel bad and good at the same time), then led him to a path that crossed through an abandoned orchard of coffee trees, their branches laden with berries that were likely never to be picked. The path next plunged across a meadow of saw grass and candle bush and kept going down until it arrived at the village. They stopped at a row of loya cane just above the empty pigpens. Astonishingly, music was playing over a loudspeaker, swing music, and Josh thought it might possibly be the Dorsey Brothers. Laundry flapped from lines strung between trees. Big cooking fires were cheerfully burning, their smoke curling thick and high in the sky. It looked for all the world to be a picnic outing. A few men could be seen walking about; others were lounging around the huts. Laughter drifted with the smoke on the wind.

  “Who is it?” Penelope wondered.

  “The United States Army, God bless ‘em,” Josh said, and shook his head at their foolishness. “Come on, Penelope dear. We’ve got to deliver some very bad news to these gentlemen.”

  “That the Japoni are coming?” she asked.

  “Yes, that’s part of it,” Josh replied.

  “And the rest?”

  “That they’re about to die.”

  “If we go down there, we will die, too.”

  Josh wavered between duty and good sense. Duty won out, as it usually did. “You stay here,” he said.

  “I will go with you. If you die, I die.”

  Josh looked at Penelope, then hugged her. “I think I really do love you,” he said.

  “You said you did,” she answered, pushing him away. “But now you act like you just realized it.”

  “Can we talk about this later? We have to go get killed now.”

  “I trust you not to get us killed.”

  Josh considered her trust, then took her by the hand and led her down the path into the village.

  33

  Kennedy slept. No mosquitoes bit him, no blanket of heated air covered him, no sweat dripped from his armpits. A mild rocking lulled him. He was at sea, where he was happiest. When he awoke, he found himself lying in front of the splinter shield of the Rosemary’s cockpit. He recalled that he’d come there just to sit and think, but he hadn’t thought long. Now he blinked up at a night sky filled with fading stars. Dawn
was near. His first thought was to discover if Felicity Markham had survived her fever. Hurrying below, he found her sitting up in a cot, taking some soup. Millie sat at her side. John-Bull was asleep on another of the crew cots. She looked at him over the soup and said, “Lieutenant Kennedy, I presume?”

  He was pleased to see her so improved. “Yes, and you’re Missus Markham. The boys recognized you. It’s good to see you up.”

  “Oh, we old Solomon hands know fever almost as a friend.” She extended her hand. “I thought you were but a dream, Lieutenant. But I see you are very real.”

  “You called me a pretty man,” he said, his toothy grin broadening. “You were obviously delirious.”

  “There are two aspects of fever,” she replied in a scholarly tone. “One is delirium, but the other is often a clarity of thought impossible to have otherwise. It is similar, I am told, to the effects of the poppy, or perhaps the sweat houses of your American Indians. You are a very pretty man in my eyes, and I am too old to deny I said it or meant it.”

  “I’ll just put the soup away,” Millie said. Blushing, he stole away to the galley.

  Kennedy and Felicity studied one another. What her actual thoughts were toward him, he had no idea, but there was real warmth in her eyes. The last time any woman had looked at him like that had been Inga. Now Inga was gone, perhaps descended into marriage with a man who could not possibly deserve her. At least that’s what she had announced in her last letter, which had been weeks ago. Kennedy’s suspicion was that his father had somehow influenced Inga to stop writing. Somehow? His father’s ways might be subtle, but they were always effective, especially when it came to interfering with the lives of his children. But Felicity Markham was here and now, and there was a light in her eyes, and his father knew nothing about her. “Missus Markham, what can I do to make you more comfortable?”

  “You’re doing it by your visit,” she replied. “And I do hope you will call me Felicity. Do you have a first name, or must I address you by rank as long as we are on board a military vessel?”

  “You’re a civilian and can call me anything you like. Out here, I’ve been tagged with Shafty, but I wish you would call me Jack.”

  She looked at him out of the tops of her eyes, as if not quite daring to look at him directly. “So, Jack, what brings you to these waters?”

  “It seems we are both on the lam,” he answered, and explained that the Thurlow boys had told him that she had escaped from Colonel Burr. He also related a considerably condensed version of all that had occurred to him since Josh Thurlow had appeared at his tent in Lumbari.

  “Yes, I had a discussion with Commander Thurlow prior to his departure,” Felicity sniffed.

  “Mister Kennedy!” Ready yelled through the galley hatch. “Sun’s up and guess what?”

  “I’m too tired to guess,” Kennedy replied. “So just tell me.” He rolled his eyes to Felicity’s smile.

  “We can see a Catalina parked near the beach. I think it’s Dosie!”

  “I’ll be right up.” He looked at Felicity. “If you need anything . . .”

  “Don’t be the least bit concerned. Making do is the way of life here in the Solomons.”

  “Mister Kennedy!” Ready bawled down through the hatch. “We can make out Mister Phimble on the beach!”

  “All right, Ready!” Kennedy snapped as Felicity found his hand and squeezed it. “Must go,” he said, reluctantly.

  “Must let you,” she replied, and off he went, climbing the ladder to the deck, her eyes never leaving him.

  34

  Josh and Penelope ran down the path into the village. A trio of soldiers were sitting on a big palm log. One of them whistled when he saw Penelope. “Mercy,” he said.

  “Get your rifles!” Josh snapped. “Japs are on their way in force. Where’s your commander?”

  “Lieutenant Carter’s over there,” the startled man answered, waving off toward the cooking fires. The other two men simply stared.

  Josh and Penelope ran through the village, other soldiers stopping whatever they were doing at the sight of them. A few produced wolf whistles for Penelope’s benefit. When Josh and Penelope reached the largest of the cooking fires, more soldiers were sitting around it, eating from mess kits. “Where’s your lieutenant?” Josh demanded, and the forks and spoons of the soldiers stopped halfway between their plates and their mouths. Not one of them had a rifle.

  “Right here,” came the answer from a skinny young man with a mop of bright red hair. He was crossing the beach, a towel around his shoulders. He had a big loopy grin on his freckled face. “What’s up?” he asked, then took a second to admire Penelope. “Quite an aide-de-camp, sir. How do I join the marines?”

  “I’m Coast Guard,” Josh said in an irritable tone while pointing at the insignia on his cap. “But never mind. Listen to me, Lieutenant. There’s at least thirty Japanese Imperial Army troops headed your way. They’ll be here in about half an hour. Do you have machine guns and mortars?”

  “Of course not, sir,” the lieutenant said, toweling off. He kept his loopy grin, as if he hadn’t heard anything Josh had said beyond the question. “We’re a platoon of special service troops. We’re here to turn this village into a rest camp.” When Josh looked at him with a puzzled expression, he said, “You know, a place where the boys can come and relax a bit. Swim in the ocean, play horseshoes, badminton, that kind of thing. But you say Japanese are coming here, sir? I was told this area was clear.”

  “You got told wrong,” Josh retorted. “How many men do you have?”

  “Twenty including me.”

  “Any of them ever seen combat?”

  “I doubt it,” Carter said. “I’ve got a comedian and a few musicians, but the rest are a mixed bag of carpenters, electricians, and handymen to help build the center. And me, of course. I used to be a radio announcer.”

  “Get your men rounded up. Tell them to bring their weapons. They do have weapons, don’t they?”

  “I think most of them have M-ls.”

  “Ammunition?”

  The lieutenant shrugged, and Josh despaired. “Do you have a radio?”

  “It got dropped when we landed. It hasn’t worked since.”

  “Anybody supposed to check on you?”

  “I asked the sailors who brought us here to tell my company commander on the Canal that we needed a radio. They said they’d be back in about three days. That was yesterday afternoon. We’re in trouble, aren’t we, sir?”

  “Yes, but keep your head and we’ll figure a way out of this. We’ve got a secret weapon.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re looking at her.” And it was true. The redheaded lieutenant couldn’t keep his eyes off Penelope.

  An hour went by and, to Josh’s relief, the Japanese had not yet arrived. He thought that was odd, but he wasn’t going to argue with good fortune. He took the time to organize a defense, choosing to place the soldiers behind a meadow that lay between the village and the path along the beach where he expected the Japanese to appear. The palm logs the soldiers had been using for benches he had placed end to end as a defensive position. Penelope scouted the Japanese and returned with a report that they had stopped at the river about a half mile away. An officer was apparently angry about something and was yelling and stomping around. Some of his men had run back up the path.

  “It’s likely the stragglers,” Josh said. “They’re having to wait for them to catch up. Jap on attack don’t like to wait.” He walked behind the line of prone entertainment soldiers, tapping every other one on his helmet with a stick. “If I tapped your helmet, you’ll fire first, but only when I tell you. The rest of you will wait. That way we won’t have a pause while everybody puts in a fresh clip. Try to remember your basic training and you’ll do fine. Sight in and squeeze the trigger. Aim for the body. It’s a bigger target. Use the log to steady your rifle. If Jap gets in close, get on your feet and use your bayonet. Every one of you is bigger than the average son of
Nippon. Use your weight and strength against him and you should kill him before he kills you. Any questions?”

  A soldier, a round little man with a big nose and wide, pink lips, looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Captain Thurlow, you heard the one about the guy who grabbed his wife by the tail and said, ‘If you’d firm this up, we could get rid of your girdle’? Well, she grabbed him by the jonas and said, ‘You know, if you’d firm this up, we could get rid of the postman, the grocer, and your brother!’”

  “Good one, Jersey Joe!” Lieutenant Carter said while the soldiers behind the log laughed and Josh, despite himself, did, too.

  Penelope frowned and asked, “What is a jonas?”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, dear,” Jersey Joe said. He looked at Josh. “You really think a bunch of comedians like us can stop regular Japanese troops?”

  “Sure you can. Just aim and fire. We’ll get by.”

  “Boy, Captain,” Jersey Joe said, “and they think I’m funny! You should go on tour!”

  Josh chuckled, though he was aware they probably didn’t have more than a few minutes to live. The Japanese mortars and machine guns he’d spotted that morning would surely cut them to pieces. Then, if the Japanese officer in charge had any sense, a simple flanking movement would mop up anybody still alive.

  “Isn’t there something we can do, sir?” the redheaded lieutenant asked, for the first time sensing Josh’s gloom.

  Spurred by Carter’s question, Josh asked himself if there was anything tricky he might accomplish to stave off death, at least for a little while. Captain Falcon had always said to figure out an enemy’s weakness and exploit it. Well, he thought, Jap has one great weakness, and that’s his pride. “Do you have a way to talk through those speakers?” he asked the lieutenant.