Mark Hitchcock stalked angrily through the streets. The normally bright, sky-blue eyes now overcast by a stormy expression. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he walked along; the world around him forgotten. For the time being.
Some inner instinct guided his footsteps, and soon he found himself outside the motor pool. A cursory glance at the dingy, musty interior told him his effort had been wasted. His intended target was not here. 'Of all the luck.' Hitch turned away, thoroughly disgusted. 'The one time I look here first.'
He was about to take out his annoyance on a particularly big rock in the street, when another thought struck him. Spinning sharply, he headed for the far side of the motor pool, where the sun shone, uninterrupted, on the clay-brick wall.
Sure enough, no sooner had he rounded the corner of the motor pool, than he caught sight of his target. Lazing in the sun, as if he weren't already tanned like good leather, lay Private Tully Pettigrew. In mechanic's coveralls, and with a mechanic's cadet cap pulled over his eyes. He sat propped up against the wall, like a child's doll. A long sliver of wood hung from his bottom lip.
He looked peaceful and contented, but Hitch was too riled to care. He stuck his fists on his hips and nudged his friend with one foot.
"Hey. Hey! Sleeping beauty, rise and shine." Tully opened one eye and squinted at his irate friend.
Making a grandiose, if resigned, gesture at the ground beside him, he offered his company. Hitch flopped to the ground and pressed his back to the warm clay, pulling up his knees and resting his elbows.
Whereupon, Tully tugged the cap closer over his eyes and promptly ignored him. The wood sliver shifting about was the only sign at all he hadn't given up the ghost.
At any other time, Hitch would've basked in the calm of his friend's presence, and enjoyed the sun and silence. But this, was not one of those times.
He positively chafed at the quiet until he could take it no more.
He coughed. No response.
He coughed again. Still nothing.
Once more, third time's the charm. Tully still wasn't going for the bait. Hitch snorted in disgust.
Throw tact to the four winds, and subtlety be d-mned! Hitch decided.
"Peggy is a pain." He remarked to the world. Rather louder than was necessary. Hitch watched his friend from the corner of his eye.
Victory! The sliver shifted to the other side and Tully opened his eyes. Mostly. They asked a question with no curiosity. Hitch was more than ready to divulge.
"She's got some notion in her head, and I'm in the doghouse." He skipped a flat stone across the sand.
Tully cocked one eyebrow, but didn't say a thing. He waited for the rest of the story. Hitch took a deep breath and released it.
"The new nurse on base, the cute redhead with the brown eyes?" Tully nodded he'd seen her around, and Hitch continued, "I invited her out for a drink, seeing as she's new and all. Innocent as ya please." He pushed the kepi back on his head.
"Well, as I understand it, we were spotted by Jane Wycombe, she's a file clerk in the captain's office. She told her coworker, Mabel Crump, who told her sister in the nurse's ward. Ethel Crump, the sister, is a girl friend of Cynthia Grey. Cynthia's roommate is a radio monitor, and the biggest loudmouth this side of the desert. She works across the hall from Peggy in the HQ building, and told her over a coffee break." He leaned his head back against the wall in defeat.
"Now Peggy's got her nose bent outta shape, and won't even talk to me." Tully watched his friend unfold with an ever deepening knit in his brows. By the end of the twisting tale, he looked downright disturbed.
He blinked at his friend. Apprehension in every corner of his features. Hitch shoved himself to his feet and began to pace back and forth in front of his friend.
"She won't talk to me, won't listen to me, and now half the girls on base won't even look at me." His excitable New Yorker was coming to the fore. He began flailing his arms melodramatically.
"Heck, she won' even look at me. I can' get anywhere nea' her room, not even to apologize!" He flopped back down by his friend's feet, in the sand. His shoulders sagged and his finger traced in the dirt.
"She said I'm a 'playboy'. I don't know where she got that idea." Tully eyed him doubtfully. Hitch straightened a little.
"Oh, you know what I mean. I don't leave 'em at the drop of a hat like some other guys do. Besides, you'd think she'd at least hear my side." No answer.
"I didn't provoke her, and I'm done trying to apologize. If she wants to make up, she can come crawling to me."
"Mm." The laconic muse was the only answer he received. When he looked up, Tully had closed his eyes.
Hitch rolled his eyes, reached over and prodded him in the leg.
"Hey! You're not going to leave me to fight this alone, huh?" Tully opened his eyes and pinned Hitch with a frown. He looked so stern, Hitch had to back up and rethink.
"You think I should try talking to her friends?" Tully's expression didn't change. Worse, his eyes bored through Hitch. It wasn't animosity, it was scrutiny. And it burned.
Mark felt like a little kid again, in his father's study. Awaiting judgment for the latest offense, squirming under the steely gaze of his old man.
The wood sliver twitched, slinging Hitch back into the present. Tully's brown eyes, shaded by the cadet cap, drilled into him mercilessly. Brows furrowed.
Hitch swallowed. The words stumbled haltingly out of his mouth. He sounded like a student, guessing out the answer in class. His de facto teacher relented, a little.
"I should talk to Peggy, let her know there's nothing between me and the new girl." Tully raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly, luring Hitch closer to the answer.
Hitch half-smiled at his friend. "Maybe calling her a 'jealous female' was a bit harsh." Tully broke into a full grin. Hitch straightened with a jolt.
"Say, that's it! If she won't listen, I'll just make myself heard. And I know just how to do it. But first, I need to get past her cordon of girl friends." He reached over and slapped his friend on the leg.
"Thanks, Tully. You know how to help a guy." Jumping to his feet, he sprinted away between buildings on his new errand. Dodging crates and barrels like a master. Leaving his friend to enjoy the sun.
When his excitable friend had quite gone, Tully pulled the wooden sliver from his mouth, revealing a bright, glossy red sucker.
First he watched the settling dust trails from Hitch's energetic exit. And contemplating the crimson candy, he whispered, as if he was telling it a secret,
"That was close." Popping the sweet candy back in, he pulled the brim of his cap back down over his eyes and shifted his whole body a little further down the wall. Looking for a comfortable position, he finally recrossed his arms and legs, and fell into a deep dose.
