April 4, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

So begins my third volume in journaling. And what a day to start! It has been a cold one and spring should have come, but that does not matter to me. There has been good news and cheer all the way around. My twins, Danielle and Patrick, turned two today. I learned this morning that the building of our new clinic is coming along faster than anticipated. Not to mention, we had many friends visit us.

Last night, Trapper drove up and spent a sleepless night drinking. This morning brought more people. Kellye and Margaret arrived together, with Keith carrying three sleeping children and Kellye's parents coming in from the rear. Mr. and Mrs. Potter dragged the Klingers, with little Max underfoot. TC and her sons surrounded the house with decorations and lavish love. Even Charles decided to show up, but without anyone from his parents' household guiding him.

Despite Trapper being heavily drunk for most of today, it was a happy occasion. Last month was a nightmare. Hawkeye had scarlet fever, of all things, and spent two weeks recuperating after a stint in the hospital. Sherman Potter decided to help, but ended up tiring himself so much that he almost could not keep up with the four little ones. Dad was in the same shape. My children grew wilder.

Once Hawkeye grew stronger and started handling them, things quieted down. By this past week, all of them began behaving except for instigating arguments. Shannon is still dragging her feet about school and she won't tell me why. Annabeth is already ahead of her studies and does not wish to go to school now. Danielle and Patrick haven't given a thought to the adult world yet and only like that they're being paid attention to.

Margaret stopped me once, when we were in the kitchen alone and everyone was eating the main course. "Have you heard anything about Frank?" She sounded defeated.

"I can't get anything," I told her. I pulled some cookies out of the oven and put them out to cool. "Greg Keller won't tell me a damned thing."

"I can't get anything either. Dad hasn't found a peep. Can you get your Dad to ask?"

"My father is busy in Vietnam. He won't have the time. And he never cared about Frank to begin with. He'll think it's suicide."

Margaret was quiet for a moment. "Do you think…you know, that Frank actually was killed?"

"I do not doubt anything with the Army and the CIA," I reassured her. "It is possible. Frank had enemies."

"He was right about that," Margaret huffed. "It was his own doing."

"And not some imaginary enemy he made up either." I sighed and leaned my back against the counter. "Margaret, it's possible Frank was killed. I don't doubt it. The more we dig into it though, the more trouble we might get into. I will find out what I can, but I don't want to go over my head. I've been in enough as it is."

"Thank you." She took my hand and squeezed it. "I appreciate it."

I waved her away. Keith was approaching us and his face was one of concern. I shooed him out of the kitchen too. I had enough to contend with and it was not just desserts I had to bake and the circling vultures that craved the sugar. A large cake was in the process of rising. I could not be distracted by something as trivial as Frank Burns.

But there was something else we all had to watch out for: Trapper. Each one of us carried the responsibility of ensuring that he did not hurt himself. Like I said, he was drunk for most of the night and today. While he is sleeping off the latest binge, we all worry. He was grown steadily worse. How much more can Trapper take? Does he seriously have a problem, worse than us? What can we do?

Dad mostly took control. He hid most of our booze and gave Trapper only what everyone else had. Nobody was supposed to outdo the other. We were supposed to keep it clean (well, mostly) for the children. However, he had more up his sleeve than we thought. Trapper brought at least three bottles of scotch with him from Boston. I suspect more are in his bags.

"Keep him in sight until he is sober," Dad announced to all of us.

And that is what we are going to do. Despite this cause for celebration, Trapper must be controlled until he leaves. He intends to stay here for another two days and leave Sunday afternoon. It should give us enough time.

April 6, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

Trapper is sobered up! We managed to hide all of the booze and he spent the last couple of nights without anything to block out the memories of Korea. He actually spent the time talking it over with me and Hawkeye. It helped him immensely. However, he was sobbing constantly. Shannon helped him stop the tears and be a normal human being.

He went home today, with promises of trying to be better. He also thanked us for keeping him clearheaded and kissed my forehead. The wonder in his eyes danced and he was almost the Trapper I used to know. It was like we were back in Korea again, joking and fooling around.

"Remember our dance," he told me as he waved goodbye in the car.

I cannot forget it. The last night he was in Korea with me, he made so many promises then too. I hope he can keep this one about remaining sober. We all have a drinking problem. Some, like Trapper, have more of an issue than others.

April 10, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

I was just called in to talk with Shannon's teacher. She said that my daughter punched a boy and he had to go to Portland for treatment. His nose is broken. I have no more time to write. I need to finish up this patient and go to the school.

April 11, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

Hawkeye joined me in the conference with Shannon's teacher thankfully. I don't think I can handle this one by myself. The thought of what happened was chilling. And to think, Shannon was not totally at fault!

Ms. Gallagher, Shannon's teacher, told us the tale. Since the year before, a boy had been bothering Shannon. She tolerated it for some months and didn't tell anyone about it. She was minorly punished for little things, like kicking him under her desk or knocking over his pencils off of his desk, because that was what everyone saw. Initially, all of her teachers thought that she was being unruly and troublesome, like Hawkeye before her. Come to find out, there was more to the story than meets the eye.

"It appears that some boy has been bothering her," Ms. Gallagher revealed. "He admitted to admiring her and has done nothing except get her attention. However, I am questioning this kind of attention he is giving her."

"What do you mean?" I felt my heart thumping in my throat.

Ms. Gallagher folded her hands across her desk. "Well, it appears that he likes…to, well, touch her. He pulls her hair. He has touched her hands and pulled her off of her feet. He purposely trips her in the hallway. He stole her lunch and slaps her hand when she tried to get it back. He has twisted her arm to get her milk."

The list went on and on. There were ripped dresses. Her books were destroyed. There were nasty notes in her desk. The other girls backed away from my daughter because they were going to be targeted too. If no one stood up for her, then she alone had to face her bully. Shannon took matters into her own hands.

My stomach sank in regret and guilt. Shannon had been harassed by this one boy and she never said a word. She acted out and tried every way to avoid going to school. Jesus Christ, she is not even seven years old and already thinking about handling things on her own. She was mirroring what I did, as a child to being an adult.

"What is his name?" Hawkeye sounded like he was growling. His voice was very low. "Will he bother her again?"

"Marc Cochran," she told us. "His father recently…well, he died this past year. I think you know how."

We both nodded. I took Hawkeye's hand and squeezed harder. I felt sorry for the child who lost his father to madness. He did not move. His normally bright blue eyes turned icy. It reminded me of the lightness of Major Simmons. The first meeting in the Swamp is still imbedded in my mind. How easy someone can take control!

Hawkeye had his mind set on taking it too. "I want him punished."

"Dr. Pierce, the appropriate measures have been taken," Ms. Gallagher told him. "You do not need to do anything."

"You cannot let some child continue to harass my daughter!" Hawkeye exclaimed. He suddenly stood up, releasing me. "How would you like it if you spent three years locked in a hole that forced you to fix up children? Children that would just be sent to their death or right back at you? I hold mine in high esteem. It's time that you do too."

Ms. Gallagher also stood, shaking. She took a deep breath. "I understand your concern, Dr. Pierce. We, as a school, love our children and desire nothing more than their safety and for them to learn. You do not have any say over this unless you wish to take it up with Mrs. Cochran. Now, this discussion is over. Thank you for coming."

I had to pull Hawkeye away from his soapbox. I thanked the teacher as I dragged Love out of the building to the Packard. I almost managed to get in the driver's seat. Hawkeye realized that we were outside and immediately took over. He stuck his tongue out at me as I got inside the vehicle.

"They won't understand you. You know that, right?" I peered at him imploringly. "You can't tell someone about Korea."

Hawkeye let out a huge sigh. "I know. They won't."

It was not just agreement. Hawkeye was telling me in so many words that we were in a world alone. He and I always watched the children like nobody else did. We were more protective and had a deeper sense of fear than most parents. This just confirmed that we failed in some way.

I felt it most of all. I taught my children independence and never to reach out. All and all, it is a good quality to be resourceful. However, it means that Shannon is turning away from us. We have to stop that.

Later
Crabapple Cove, Maine

I am rocking on the bench on the back porch. Shannon is sleeping against me as I write. She and I could not sleep and decided to wrap ourselves in blankets and watch the waves outside. We did not say anything to each other. We did not need to.

It's difficult. All day yesterday and today, we have not uttered a word about what Ms. Gallagher told us. Hawkeye and I boiled to scream and cry at her though. It was not just because we felt like a failure as parents. All of the insecurities and guilt we held wanted to be hurled out to an innocent girl who did not understand why we too were fallible. From the silent ride home to the confession we quietly made to Dad, Hawkeye and I trembled.

It was Dad that told us not to startle Shannon. "She'll come to you when she's ready," he cautioned. "Sometimes, it's best to let her be."

So, we listened. It took a lot out of us though. Hawkeye and I had to lend strength to each other in the coming hours as our bodies held our minds further from Shannon. We had to pretend the churning wildness in our minds was nothing more than law and order as parents.

Life went on normally. We played games and watched the news on the television. There were jokes and telephone calls. Hawkeye and I went to work at different hours and Dad was in and out of the house. Mrs. Pettigrew stopped by a few times. Larry and a couple of the neighborhood kids his age biked back and forth down our street and screamed like lunatics. The twins climbed all over Shannon and Annabeth. I had to yell a million more times for everyone to move along and to do as I say.

But this night was different. Shannon and I were the only ones left standing after everyone had gone to bed. It was Friday night and suddenly, all was well between us and there was time. Our circle silently grew smaller, to just the two of us, and we were surrounded by this love and trust. My little girl held out her hand out to me and we made this decision to jump together.

Before Shannon drifted off to sleep, she said to me, "Mommy, don't leave me again."

"I can't," I promised her, ruffling her black hair. "Nobody can tell me no this time."

She curled closer to me and I wrapped another blanket around us. After some time, she fell asleep. I do not want to move. Moments like these are few and far between. As a mother, I am not supposed to coddle my children. As a human being with love and care, I have to. Life is too precious. I have to hold onto what I can.

April 15, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

There was another note on the door this morning. Again, there was no envelope, just a paper folded in half. The handwriting was the same. It was the same message as well, except it was in red ink.

I have not told Hawkeye about the other note yet. To be honest, I have not thought of it and didn't have the time to sit and talk to him about it. I pocketed it and went on with my day. I will see where this goes. There are too many possibilities and little in the way of clues. I will have to wait and see.

April 19, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

Kellye and TC came up for a surprise visit! The two conspired and snuck up together, without children or parents, and have decided to take on Crabapple Cove by storm with artwork and nursing. What a day this has been!

April 21, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

Kellye left this morning. She sold several pieces of her artwork and departed for the airport with nothing more than several hugs and kisses and promises to return for an art show. TC is still around town, helping me with patients. She has never felt so much better than to be a nurse. This is her life, just as it is mine. She will never give it up.

April 22, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

TC left earlier this afternoon. Then, BJ called. He is inviting us to California this summer! The 4077th reunion is supposed to be in Washington with Margaret this year. BJ figured we can spend some time with him alone and then head up to Margaret's. He extended the invitation to Charles and Trapper. We will see where this lands us. The two are civil to each other. They've no reason to decline and be jackasses.

April 25, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

Trapper called me a few minutes ago, drunk. "Where are my dances, Jeanie poo?" he asked me.

It was like we were in Korea, all over again. I recalled being fought over, between Hawkeye and Trapper initially, before Frank decided to try and prank Hawkeye. Instead, he got me covered in Mess Tent food. Even afterward, when it was clear that Hawkeye and I were a couple, Trapper always tried for once more dance, one more kiss. Eventually, we turned into brother and sister and I was ok with it. I thought he was too.

I can't tell what got into him. How he managed to get the operator to ring us and imagine that we were in Korea is beyond me. And "Jeanie poo"? The only time he called me that was when he was drunk and attempting to grope me. Hawkeye was always there, to the rescue.

Except Hawkeye is in Portland for the night. There was an emergency fire in town and it spread to quite a number of houses. He and Dad volunteered to help the burn victims. I was alone with the house and the children.

I had to handle this on my own. "Go to bed, Trapper," I told him. "Call me in the morning."

"Some girls like it hot," he began singing. "Some girls are cold as ice…"

I had enough. I had to hang up. Trapper's slurring words keep echoing in my head. I shudder to think where his mind was. At this point, I think I should call Sidney and ask for advice. I am worried.

April 26, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

I managed to find Sidney's new number in New York. He moved recently and had been keeping quiet for some time. However, he was in no mood to talk. He had company over. Addie was also nagging at him to get off the telephone. It sounded like she was resentful of the time he spent with us.

"Don't make me drive down there," I warned him. "You're not the only one I'm worried about."

Sidney laughed. "Says the person who has to remind herself to moderate."

He had a point. Those who can't, teach. This in case, I am a basket case of worry for other people. I cannot spare a care for myself.

May 1, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

Today has been unusually hot. I also see some clouds in the distance. It looks like a storm is coming. I hope it does not flood.

May 2, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

It has been flooding somewhat and I cannot get out of the house. Nobody really can because the streets are flooded and everyone is causing traffic, trying to get in and out of town. The water is halfway to the house from the back beach. I am tempted to get Larry and Mrs. Pettigrew and take the children to the church. But my mind is telling me not to run yet. I have some things to do.

Besides, Hawkeye and Dad are sleeping off the days they spent in Portland. I am going to watch the water levels first. If anything else happens, I can wake them up. Larry can get the boat and we'd be off. There is enough room in his craft for all of us.

Something else bothers me though. It isn't just the storm. It's Radar. He has not contacted anyone since calling Hawkeye some months ago. Everyone has said that he cut all ties. Even to Sherman Potter has Radar not talked to! The two are close too. I know it hurts the colonel to have to hear silence on the other end.

At this point, I left Hawkeye alone. I did not ask him what Radar told him all that time ago. Now, I think it's time. He'll understand. It's been some weeks and everyone is worried about Radar. I know that Hawkeye keeps his word. If he cannot, he beats himself up for it.

May 5, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

The water levels have decreased. We did not have to leave home and I am grateful. But there is worse news: Anthony Borelli traveled up here to see Hawkeye. He was in Portland and figured he'd come to check things out. God help us! The last time those two met, they broke limbs and had to work at the Front Lines.

I want to pull my hair out. Meeting Borelli once was enough. Hawkeye had to deal with him twice. Now, he found our address and feels the need to direct everything. This is delaying everything, from me asking Hawkeye about Radar to keeping the children in line for the beginning of the warm weather and even the notes I found at the door. Why does Borelli HAVE to be here?!

May 9, 1958
Crabapple Cove, Maine

Borelli is still here. He has been overbearing and directing everything, from the builders who are working on our clinic to Jake and what he should eat at Eddie's. Everyone wants a piece of him! Eddie almost formed a lynch mob to get him last night. Dad had to calm everyone down and managed to keep the would-be murderers at bay.

"He is a guest," he reminded everyone. "We do not kill one who is not our own."

I am honestly too tired to deal with Borelli's antics. I have a household to run, people to nurse and a business to tend to. I am also having a hard time breathing lately. It's not asthma. It's my lungs. I feel like there's a weight on my chest. I need to lay down now. My hand is too tired to lift the pen any longer.

June 20, 1958
Mill Valley, California

It's been over a month since I've written. I have been too sick and busy to put pen to paper. Old war wounds and anxiety have kept me home for some weeks. Then, I was told that I no longer had to work around town and to focus on the people at our front door and the construction of our clinic. In between this madness, there was Borelli!

Borelli is still at Crabapple Cove. He is gratinating himself to the medical board in Portland, trying to get some position around here. He wants in and to be near Hawkeye because he felt that they worked well together in Korea. Well, Love is NOT having any of it! He concedes that Borelli is an excellent doctor, but not in the right mindset to be part of the medical team. I agree!

Time has passed us slowly otherwise. We celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary on June 10. Annabeth turned four on June 12. Shannon is going into second grade. Danielle and Patrick are tottering into their secret pact as twins more and more. Dad is traveling more and feeling no need to be tethered to Crabapple Cove all the time. Hawkeye is calming down over many times.

Me? I am slowly viewing the world with the same wonderous eyes that I tried to have. New places and new adventures intrigue me. However, relaxing is another story. I do not see myself retiring as a housewife anymore. My feet are planted firmly where they need to be. I have too much at stake.

~00~

I closed my journal, sighing. Yes, it has been a complete hell since Borelli showed up. Between our madness, he has not helped much. I was still recovering from my illness. Hawkeye had to hold onto the baggage by himself until this past week.

Being in California was calming though. BJ and Peg have been welcoming and the children are happy to be together again. Hawkeye and I did not need to worry about Dad or Crabapple Cove for the rest of the month. We were not returning until after the holidays, when we celebrate another reunion with Margaret up north. We had time with our friends and that was all that mattered.

Uncrossing my legs in the lounge chair, I dipped my toes in the smooth sand. BJ and Peg's home by the beach was almost like ours, but in a different way. There was a certain attitude and easygoing atmosphere that characterized their postwar life. It was to let things pass by, unlike the course roughness of our rocky shorelines. We had to tumble through some tough times to get to the center beauty.

I shaded my eyes and spotted everyone. Hawkeye, Charles, Trapper and Peg were keeping the children busy in the water. BJ was in the house. He approached me when I saw that I was done writing. He grabbed a nearby towel and sat in the chair to my left, bunching up the fabric in his hands. He and I watched the fun. While I decided that a blanket was appropriate to wrap myself in, he remained barefoot and shirtless.

He did not look at me. "Are you cold?"

"A little," I admitted. "I am fine though."

"I am worried about you. One moment, you're ok. The next, you're on the floor."

"Things happen, BJ. You know that."

We did not speak for a few minutes. It was best that way. He had so much to say to me and was in no condition to be kind about it. It was not just his observation of many years that I should be an invalid and somehow am not. He has been cautioning Hawkeye to stop me from all of this running around. Yes, BJ agrees that a nursing career is best for me. The way I had been caring for everyone else? He does not like it.

It was a point of contention between us too. I never liked BJ ordering me on what I can and cannot do. He still did not understand the abuse I put myself through and how years of practice0 are getting me to slow down. Like what Sidney taught me, I promised myself to take things into moderation. I intended to keep it.

"Why can't you ask for help?" BJ finally turned to face me. "Why didn't you ask Hawkeye?"

"He's still sick himself," I pointed out. "Didn't you ask him what happened?"

"He skipped through the good parts and gave me the Reader's Digest version."

"He had scarlet fever. He hardly recovered and went back to work. This landed on me."

"And you got sick too. How is that supposed to help you both? You can't put your finger on every piece of pie."

"We are not trying to."

"You welcome it though."

"You really think so? You think dealing with post Korea has been a walk in the park? That it's our fault we are courting trouble?"

BJ was startled by my tart response. "I never meant to be hard, Jeanie. I'm worried."

"You always are." I was flippant. Then, I softened a little to avoid hurting him. "You have yet to find your footing too. It is like paradise here. But don't you and Peg feel the same heavy weight we do?"

This calmed BJ down. It did not bring the reply I wanted though. He soon turned cynical and dark. It reminded me of the many nights in the Swamp. We would get drunk from anything we can find. We did not wish to remember anything we experienced. It could be death or taxes, for all I cared about. It was the grief and pain etched into his face that transformed, from the Korean landscape to the peaceful beaches of California.

I did not like what I saw. It was a side to BJ I did not admit he had. But hell, he had his own demons. He needed to face them eventually.

"Everyday," BJ finally told me. "We struggle daily."

And that was it. The admittance of obstacles stopped us both from snapping at each other. BJ did not have to inform me of how he kept his sense of normalcy. I can taste it, in every move and every word. There was no doubting that, while enjoyed his life, Korea loomed in the back of his mind. He and Peg will have to contend with it for the rest of their lives.

Nobody can get past it. Korea will live with us forever.