"I think I scared her a little, Hawk," I said, pouring myself a glass of gin. "But she really surprised me. The way she talked about war in O.R, I could have sworn she was-"
"Like us," Hawkeye finished for me.
I nodded and took a swig from my glass.
"The thing about Linda is she loves the O.R. She always has. She lived for the rush. Adrenaline was like a drug for her."
"But in O.R," I started. "She talked about how she couldn't understand how people could hurt each other like that."
Hawkeye threw his robe around his shoulders and stood up. "Linda is different. She's like a mechanic who hates to see a car broken, but loves to fix it."
"I guess I can understand that."
"I think we all can, Beej," he said, laughing. "I think we're all guilty of loving our job a little too much, forgetting that we're not fixing engines but people. I know I am."
I looked into my glass, as if the gin in it would suddenly give me the answers to all of my questions. The truth was, as much as I hated to admit it Hawkeye hit the nail right on the head. I too had been guilty of those feelings. Of course, coming to Korea had changed all that.
Since the contents of my glass hadn't magically shown me the meaning of life, I guzzled the rest, set the glass down and muttered, "I should get ready for post-op."
"I hope it's all you wanted and more," Hawkeye said, grabbing his towel. "I'm taking a shower. Tell Linda I'll be thinking of her."
He shoved the door aside and walked into the compound, following various nurse's paths with his eyes. Despite myself, I laughed. There was no rest for Hawkeye Pierce.
I threw my boots on and pushed the door aside. I could never get excited about post-op, but I was eager to see Linda again and apologize for upsetting her. A very foreboding cloud formation was inching overhead and as I watched, the light from the sun was slowly extinguished by the darkness. I had hoped the few brilliant days we'd had was the beginning of a trend, but to no avail. We were looking at rain again and I was looking at yet another long stretch of cold nights.
I walked into post-op and spotted Linda. She was sitting at a soldier's side laughing like she was a million miles away from this place. Instead of interrupting her, I watched quietly.
She sat very still on the foot of the bed, listening intently to the soldier talking about his home town. Her hair hung slightly over her face, obscuring her mouth from my view, but her eyes shone at the soldier lying in front of her.
"Well, I've been living in Boston for the past seven years, but I grew up in California."
"I've never been to California, but I hear about it all the time," said the soldier. "Does the sun really shine all the time there?"
She laughed throatily.
"Not all the time, but it is sunny a lot." She leaned in closer to him. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Of course," he said.
She made a big deal of looking over her shoulder, playing like it was a big secret and then turned back to the soldier.
"I like the sun just fine, but I love the rain."
"The rain?" he asked. "Why the rain?"
"The sound," she said simply. "The sun doesn't make any sounds. You can't close your eyes and listen to the sun shining. But the rain. The rain is a symphony."
"You can have all the rain you want, Lieutenant," said the soldier, laughing. "Give me a bright sun any day of the week."
"From the looks of those clouds overhead you'll be getting all the rain you want, Linda," I said from across the room.
She turned to me and her face brightened. "Really?"
"A genuine Korean rainstorm," I said, walking towards her and the soldier.
"The army must've got my order," she said. She handed the soldier's chart to me. "This is Corporal Samuel Rogers. Sam, this is BJ."
"You two are already on a first name basis?" I asked, taking a look at his chart.
"He's definitely a charmer, BJ," she said, smiling back at Corporal Rogers. "Plus, he was asking some advice. He wants to get into medicine."
"Really?" I said. "Well, the first thing you need to do is heal and then we can tackle why it's not good to have shrapnel in your stomach."
"Shrapnel, bad," said Rogers like he was checking it off a shopping list. "See, I'm learning already."
Linda laughed. "Are you sure you want to be a doctor and not a comedian?"
"Do comedians get as many nurses as doctors do?" he asked, a bright smile on his face.
"I've had my fair share of innocent crushes on certain doctors," Linda said, glancing over at me and winking. "But none of those came to fruition." Of course she was talking about Hawkeye and, for some reason, it made me uncomfortable. "You'd have to ask the doctor for some first hand experience." She patted me on the arm and strolled towards the next soldier. I watched her and as she came up to the next wounded kid, his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face.
"She's pretty neat, huh Doc?" Rogers said to me. I sat at his bed and took his wrist in mine, timing his pulse.
"You said it, Rogers," I replied. After a moment, I put his wrist down and wrote the information on his chart. I stood up and hung the clipboard on the hook at the foot of his bed. "You take it easy, Rogers," I said, and began to leave.
"Hey, Doc?" he asked. I turned around.
"What is it, Corporal?"
"When she was talking about the doctors she had crushes on, was she talking about you?"
I laughed. "No, Rogers. She was talking about someone else."
"You sure?" he asked. I threw a questioning look at him.
"You worried about something, Rogers?"
"Not really, Doc," he replied. "But if someone like that was into a doctor, what kind of chance would a dope like me have?"
I sat back by his bed. "Lieutenant Florence is the kind of woman who doesn't care if you're a digger of latrines or the president as long as you are honest and a good person."
"You like her too?" he asked. I was taken aback by his presumption.
"She's a good friend, Corporal," I said, putting an emphasis on friend. "And that's all."
I left in a huff, walking over to the desk across the room. I began to write down Corporal Rogers' information, and found myself gripping the pen so hard that my knuckles turned white. I took a deep breath.
Calm down, BJ, I thought to myself.
"A quarter for your thoughts?" I heard a voice say from behind me.
"Isn't it supposed to go 'a penny for your thoughts' Linda?"
She sat down on the desk in front of me, sitting on the paper I was writing on.
"I always figured people's thoughts are worth more than a measly penny," she said, smiling. "I didn't get to apologize for my actions today in the mess tent."
"I should be the one to apologize. I didn't mean to lay so much on you on your second day here."
"You're just looking out for me, BJ. You did nothing wrong. I haven't been here as long as you have and you know how it works. The truth is I got so upset because I don't want you to be right."
She looked down on me like an angel in a vision. The light from the dusty bulb above circled her head like a halo and her face was soft in a half smile, part happiness and part grief.
"You're sitting on my report, Lieutenant," I said, smiling. She glanced down at my paper, half hidden under her pants, and laughed.
"Well, then you're just going to have to talk to me," she said dignified, shifting her position so more of my paper was under her. "Tell me about your home."
"Why?" I asked, brow furrowed into a questioning stare.
"Because I want to know more about you if we're going to be friends," she said, her voice becoming high and sing-song like. "Come on, where are you from?"
"Mill Valley, California," I said, reluctantly. It was always difficult for me to talk about home when I was so far away from it.
"And?" she asked, egging me on.
"And what?"
"Wife? Kids? Dog? Picket fence?"
"All of the above," I said smiling. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Linda. It's just hard for me to talk about it when it's been so long."
She put her hand on my shoulder, becoming serious. "I understand, BJ. And I'm sorry if I brought up anything that's going to upset you." Her serious disposition melted away and she perked up. "Do you want to hear about my home in California, I mean, back when I lived there?"
"I'd love to," I replied, shifting my weight in my chair. I glanced over the room to make sure everything was ok before she started her story.
"I was born in San Francisco and lived in a house in the city for a short time, but I don't remember it at all. Then my family moved up North a bit and lived in a house in the heart of Redwood country right on the coast. Some of my earliest memories were waking up to the smell of pine then opening my window and looking out over the beach."
"That sounds nice," I said, quietly.
"It was a wonderful place to grow up. So few people were around during the cold season that it seemed like me and my parents were the only people in the world. Maybe that's why I like rain, because when I think of the rain, I remember the stillness and the peace of my home. I lived there for 11 years in the shadow of those big trees."
Her head dropped a little. "Then my dad died. One day his heart stopped and that was it. My mom packed us up and we moved clear across the country, to Boston.
"Everything happened to me in Boston. I became a teenager; I drove my first car and had my sweet-sixteen party and my first kiss on the same night."
I smiled.
"When I finally became an adult, I had no idea what I would do with myself. Everyone I ever knew got married out of high school and had kids, settled down, cleaned house, and became the epitome of the perfect wife. I knew that it wasn't for me, though. Unfortunately, other than the fact that I knew I didn't want to just be 'Mrs. So-and-So' I had no idea what I wanted to do.
"That is, until my mom went in for a routine appendectomy and left with cancer. We were too late to catch it and it was only a matter of time before she was gone. But while she went from hospital to hospital, I saw these nurses flitting from room to room and I was in awe of them. They weren't at home washing dishes, they were helping people, people like my mom."
She looked around the room. Everything had gone still as if everyone was listening to her story, but all eyes were closed.
"I always felt it was my mother's gift to me before she passed," she continued. I saw a few men nearest to us open their eyes and continue listening to her speak. "Whether she knew it or not, she had helped me make up my mind. I wanted to be one of those women who helped people, who gave comfort and strength. So I went to school, studied hard and became a nurse. I started working at a hospital by my apartment, I met John McIntyre and Ben Pierce and the rest is history."
"You're not quite done," I said. "Tell me, Miss Florence, how you came to be sitting here in this makeshift post-op with a gallery of wounded and an unsuccessful draft dodger slash doctor."
She smiled and looked around, no doubt noticing that most of the people in post-op weren't even pretending to sleep anymore.
"Can I tell you later tonight? I have a feeling some of these soldiers aren't as asleep as they think they are."
"Sure, Linda. There's going to be a poker game in the swamp later tonight. You can stop by and once I've lost all my money we can finish our conversation."
She laughed. "Can I play as well, or are no girls allowed?"
I smiled back. "Well, in our fort it's usually boys only, but we can make an exception for you. You have money?"
"A little."
"You attached to it?"
"Why? Are you guys pros?"
"I'm certainly not. It's Radar that you have to worry about."
"The guy who woke me up this morning? The one who blushes when you call him by his real name?"
"That's the one. He's got a real poker face. You'll see when you get there tonight."
"It's a date," she said, patting me on the shoulder. She jumped off the desk and moved to the soldier in the first bed.
"You're not gonna tell us the rest of the story?" he asked, watching her intently as she picked up his chart.
"Well, according to your chart, you should take eavesdropping classes," she said, smiling. "Rule number one is never let the eavesdropee know that they have been eavesdropped."
"I'll do better next time, I promise," he said, winking.
She looked back at me and smiled. I smiled back, feeling the warmth of her glance heat up the inner parts of my soul. I turned to my paperwork. What an amazing person, I thought.
