The day had finally come, the one that we had all been waiting for and the one that Frank had been dreading forever. Margaret was getting married to Donald Penobscott, her wonder with a chin and lips.
After the initial teasing and some prompting on my end (I was as guilty as sin on this one), Margaret called Donald and there they were, readying themselves for the plunge when he decided to take some time from his supposed busy schedule. Frank had done some more damage and thanked the colonel for the buggy ride he wanted to give Margaret, but that got Donald (who could not forget a face and a name) up and rolling. Before we knew it, we were frontal with the man who we had molested and pranked a few times previously and then some.
They talked while we took a break from our strenuous basketball game, walking arm in arm as we tried guessing what they were saying. Hawkeye and BJ were pretty good about it, reading their lips better than I could as a spy.
"Not being a gossip, but they seem like a nice-looking couple," Father Mulcahy observed.
"Strapping young man," the colonel added. He hardly paid attention to Donald before since our pranks always got us in trouble and he did not want to look at another complaining officer's face. "Academy, you know."
"West Point or Arthur Murray?" Hawkeye asked.
"We gonna pay ball anymore?" Klinger was quite annoyed that we stopped. His bloomers even showed hardly any sweat from his efforts. "I was getting hot."
"From the bloomers up?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Ahh, Klinger, there's too much human drama unfolding," Hawkeye began. He was only warming up.
"Geez, I wonder what they're saying to each other," Radar said out loud.
Love grinned. "She's saying, 'Donald, Darling, I'm not getting any younger, you know.' And he's saying, 'Margaret, Darling, I couldn't love you more. But I promised myself not to marry until I made brigadier general.'"
BJ had to join in. "'Let's not rush into this thing like a couple of crazy Army kids.'"
"'Donald, Darling, I don't care what your rank is as long as it's lieutenant colonel or better.'"
"'Kiss me, you fool!'"
"Amazing." Even the Padre was amused by the observations by Hawkeye and BJ. "How'd you do that?"
"She was puckering," Hawkeye answered.
"All right, all right," Colonel Potter interrupted. "Knock off the eavesdropping. Let's go over to the Mess Tent for a cup of joe."
And that was where Donald and Margaret found us later on. The two walked in, so much in love and with tragedy written all over their bodies, and announced that they were getting married PDQ. While Donald asked Father Mulcahy to join them in this holy sacrament, Margaret asked me (of all people!) to be one of her ladies to stand in for her and for Colonel Potter to walk her down the aisle. Klinger was in charge of the cake and Radar would file the necessary forms for marrying in a combat zone with permission of the CO within the day, etc., etc. Then, when Frank entered our circle (disappearing except for today when Margaret's fiancé was around), Donald went to chase him down, who the hell knows why.
While the men went to help Frank and avert this soon-to-be disaster of a dead man, I had to get ready for this tremendous event. I figured that Margaret wanted to marry tomorrow (I assumed rightfully so) and needed as much help as I could. So, I enlisted some help from Kellye, who came to me when she heard the camp gossip. She gathered all of the nurses in one of their tents for a meeting before our head honcho found out our ghastly deeds and ordered us back to work. However, with our luck, her happiness will last long enough to miss a few things.
Most of the nurses were quite perturbed that I called for this gathering. They were still irritated with me from a few days before, when we were all grouchy and I was ordering them around like Margaret would. Even Nurse Brown was giving me an evil eye. After all, it was my word to Margaret that got her a boot to the ass and extra chores in the Supply Room. Seeing me heading something was a prelude to less sleep, she would believe.
Boy, was she in for a surprise!
"Can I have some quiet here?" I waved my arms for attention. When the women silenced themselves (a miracle), I continued. "We have ourselves a problem here and we need to solve it pretty damned quick here."
"What now?" Nurse Baker inquired. "More laundry?"
"Worse," I confirmed. "Major Houlihan just announced her nuptials. We need a party for her, stat."
"Why didn't you say so?" Nurse Wilson was incredulous. "A wedding? Oh, boy!"
The girls got excited and carried away. Kellye had to whistle to get their attention back on me since I was the one with the plans. When they did, I smiled in appreciation at her and stared at each of them with harder eyes. Eleven of us in total crammed ourselves in this tent…and all of us would hopefully put aside our petty difference and put together a wonderful night for Margaret.
"Now, you all know that I don't give too many orders here," I stated. "However, I am now. Get what you can and meet me back at Major Houlihan's tent in an hour. We're decorating and gift wrapping."
That got them all going. With Kellye more in charge than I was and directing the traffic, everyone scattered and scampered. Feeling that this was a victory (even if Margaret was not well-liked), I headed over to the head nurse's quarters myself. Nobody was there. Margaret and Donald had taken a stroll down towards the stream and were away for the time being, possibly for a pre-wedding escapade. This gave me ample opportunity to make a few changes.
So, I snuck inside, waiting for Kellye and the gang to come in. While the place was in shambles (and trust me, Margaret was a pretty messy person when she wanted to be), it was easy to tidy up. Once I managed to place everything where I thought it should be, I organized a ring of chairs, using as many as I could grab from various other places in the camp. Finally, as I was finishing up, Kellye led a parade of women inside and help me make the place seem festive and to hide their presents under Margaret's cot.
It was completed after a few hours. I mean, I could only get everyone to agree for so long before another nurse changed a corner or two and an argument ensued. However, I managed to get the final word in, organizing streamers and a few hospital glove balloons here and there. By then though, Kellye was sent to fetch Margaret and to break up her naked adventures with Donald. All of us waited in anticipation until their entrance and then screamed out in surprise when Margaret came in with Kellye.
Margaret was touched. She oohed and aahed over everything, exclaiming in glee how we didn't need to do this for her although the men were getting Donald as drunk as could be before the big day. She comfortably sat herself at the head chair though, chatting with everyone and taking in the congratulations like a true bride, pouring drinks for everyone and smiling. Kellye and I watched from a corner as the action unfolded, both of us with our arms across our chests. She and I nodded every so often, joining in on every conversation when we could, but we considered this our baby. We helped to create an atmosphere that Margaret enjoyed and could fit in and it was perfect.
Finally, one of the girls had to point out to the boxes underneath Margaret's seat. "Open your presents!"
"Yeah, yeah!" we all cajoled. "Don't forget your presents!"
Margaret laughed hysterically, pulling one box from her feet. "Who's this from?"
"That's from me," Nurse Bigelow volunteered.
While we all joined in the fun and merriment with Margaret, we watched with eager eyes as she opened one thing after another and we told her who gave her what. Finally, when we were all got so drunk and silly, the door to Margaret's tent opened. It was Klinger.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said. "I had to iron this dress."
"What…dress?" I was confused, exchanging a glance with Kellye. This wasn't going to be good, we thought.
"Klinger, this is for ladies only," Margaret said sternly.
"Just a little something for the bride-to-be," the crossdresser offered, giving the head nurse a box.
Margaret opened the lid and tissue paper, gasping. "Oh, Klinger, how sweet!"
"In the words of my people, 'May your life be an oasis surrounded by waving palms and breezes and spit-free camels.'"
"How touching."
"I always figured if I had a daughter, I'd want her to wear that gown. My Uncle Zach used it to get out of World War I. Don't tear it."
As Klinger departed, tears in his eyes, all of us gathered around Margaret. I stayed in the back of the group with Kellye, eying the white fabric with water in my own vision. It wasn't that it was poignant because it was. When he wanted to be, Klinger can be the sweetest and kindest person in the world. No, it was that feeling again. I did not like this upcoming marriage. It brought me nothing but grief and I did not like to see the doom etched all over Margaret like invisible ink on a letter. Nobody saw it but me and they would not believe me anyway.
Margaret most certainly did not. She never would until it was much too late.
I allowed everyone to think that the gesture and the drinking caused me to cry and they let it go with words of encouragement of their own. Everyone was doing it, for God's sake, and they only made it worse by joining in with me. I was only part of the ocean that wept tears that this war was bringing ruin and that the world spun like it was never there and that we were all a part of this God forsaken war that would never end.
Faraway, in the plastered memories of mine, I heard cheers to the groom and gratitude expressed by Donald himself. It was disgusting. If I had been stronger, I would have stomped over to the Swamp and swung something against Donald's head that would end his life. I don't know what stopped me or even made me possess the thought. I mean, I could have easily found a weapon here and scared him witless, even if I hated violence. It would most certainly get rid of that clenching in my stomach once and for all.
I only had to look at the head nurse. The simple joy on Margaret's face stopped me. I could not take that away from her, the only one she had for several months. She wasn't even that happy with Frank and that alone was a perfect moment in time.
Afterward, I did not remember much until morning. By then, I was woken up by Margaret. I had spent the night in her tent, sleeping on the floor and snoozing in a puddle of my own drool. She kicked me to consciousness quite on purpose, bustling around like she did and tossing this thing and that on, hoping that Klinger's dress would fit and screaming that it might not. She even told me something about getting up and making myself presentable.
She went back to the dress issue before long. "There isn't any time for altering," she repeated to herself. "No time!"
"Jesus Christ, Margaret," I said, getting up. "Let me see your dress."
The head nurse acted like I had not spent the night on the ground in her tent. Hardly startled by my alertness, she allowed me to take the white gown from her cot and undo the numerous buttons and ties. I directed her to turn and twist, pulling the material up and over her lithe body. When I managed to finish up (hands shaking like hell because of the hangover), it was deemed a perfect fit. Even the shoulder area and sleeves did not seem too tight.
"Well?" Margaret demanded before I pulled out her mirror from her closet. "How is it?"
"I would have asked you that, but I'll let you figure it out." I was tired, sighing and wishing for some water. Last night's partying had left me a bad taste in my mouth and seeing myself with Margaret made me feel worse. "How does it feel?"
"Loose," she admitted. "It also smells musty."
"Klinger did the best he could," I pointed out. I wasn't in the mood for the complaints. "I'm also sure he tried making adjustments so that it fit you. Consider yourself lucky, Major. Not too many crossdressers would give up their clothes for someone they didn't really care for."
Before Margaret could demand what I meant, I dashed for the door to prepare for my part in this masquerade. Forsaking my boots with her and walking barefoot in the midsummer heat (something I regretted immediately as the night hardly cooled the compound), I entered the Swamp. I hoped to quickly find my dress uniform and some privacy with Kellye and other nurses for a bit since male company was not appealing, but the boys (for that was what they were) had other ideas.
My sight was of Donald, sleeping off of a hangover on my cot…and dressed in nothing more than two casts on his legs and a bathrobe!
"My God." I was shocked to the core, hyperventilating. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God!"
Hawkeye popped out of nowhere, giggling hysterically like a child as he held me from behind. "Wouldn't you believe it?" he asked me innocently. "He went out to the latrine and broke both of his legs on his way back. And all he did was trip over a rock."
I swung around, pushing Love back a few feet. I couldn't catch my breath still, feeling the blood leave my face. "No…no. He didn't. You…you did it. This is another joke."
"Did what joke?" BJ entered the Swamp, dressed and ready to go. His face creased into concern though, poised to help me as I swayed a little. "Jeanie, are you all right?"
"She saw a ghost," Hawkeye reassured him, winking. He didn't even mind me shoving him rudely either. "I'm sure he'll give back her life though."
"I did not." Dazed, I mindlessly grabbed whatever clothes I needed from my footlocker. "See you later."
I somehow got past BJ and blinked in the sunshine, blindly making my way back to Margaret. I don't know how. I just remember coming back and dressing myself while she picked through her jewelry and debated on what to wear and lamenting her father not being here to see her down the aisle. We took breakfast in her tent some minutes later, delivered by Radar himself, and sat in silence. I ensured both of us did not dirty ourselves, although it wasn't much of an effort anyway. We both were not hungry and did not touch our runny eggs and toast.
In vain, I tried carrying the trays outside for pickup, but Margaret stopped me. She saw the state I was in when I came back. She didn't expect my return and appreciated it nonetheless. However, the way her concern went made me wish that I wasn't the one who told her the news about Donald. Out of all the people in the world, I damned myself for being the one who showed everyone that I was sick from a scene and all of it caused by drunken silliness.
"What's wrong?" she inquired, afraid of the answer. Her lips even quivered.
"Don't kill the messenger," I begged, feeling cornered and shamed for the behavior of others. "I'm telling you, I had no hand in this one."
"My God." Margaret had the same response I did. "Is it Donald?"
"I'm afraid so," I said, biting my tongue. Hawkeye and BJ would owe me later for covering for them. "He's got casts on his legs."
"He broke his legs?!"
"Apparently so. From what I was informed, he was walking to the latrine and was too intoxicated to watch where he was going. He tripped and fell over a rock. I have no other details."
Margaret did not want to believe me at first. She kept pacing with her hands behind her back, mumbling that it was all a dream and that nothing was happening to Donald and that all will be perfect. Then, after five minutes of this and a final call from Colonel Potter for the bride to come hither, she looked at me with her soft, calm eyes and smiled. I honestly thought the ordeal over and thanked myself for an easy job, holding my arm out to escort her to our CO, and almost did not make it.
Before leaving her tent, Margaret screamed, enraged by the unfairness of this incident. She then punched a hole in her tent wall, right above her cot.
So much for those wedding bells ringing.
This chapter was obviously based on the season 5 finale "Margaret's Marriage". And you all thought Charles was never going to come. ;)