Ch. 4 What has Past is Prologue

When the Seahawk had closed for the night, Bud got his coat from the cloak room and headed for the exit until he caught sight of a light at the bar, in the otherwise darkened room. He as he came closer, he noticed Harm sitting at the bar drinking whiskey.

"Sir?"

No response.

"Sir?"

"Yeah Bud?" Harm shifted around on his stool and looked up at the piano player.

"Are you going to head home to sleep sir?" Bud asked.

"Not right now." Harm's tone was grim. Bud could smell the whiskey on his breath from a foot away. Bud took a glance at the bottle sitting next to Harm at the bar. It was more than half empty.

Harm turned back around to face the bar, as he reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink. He swallowed the drink in one gulp and winced as it burned all the way from his throat to his stomach. He looked at the glass in his hand and angrily slammed it down on the bar. Bud jumped at the resounding bang that echoed through the darkened room.

Harm let out a rueful chuckle, "Of all the gin joints in all the towns, in all the world, and she had to walk into mine." He mused.

Bud, meanwhile, had made his way over to the piano and had begun to improvise a tune.

"What's that you're playing?" Harm asked.

Bud shrugged as he went on playing, "Just something of my own."

Harm turned back to face Bud. "Well stop it. You know what I want to hear."

"No I don't." Bud started getting nervous. The last thing he wanted to see was his boss like this. Playing the song would only make it worse.

"You played it for her. You can play it for me!" Harm snapped.

Worried about what would happen if he did play; but too afraid to see what would happened if he didn't, Bud struck the first chord of the Marine Corps Hymn. Harm poured another drink, but didn't take it. He sat back and listened to the song he'd not heard, nor wanted to hear in a long time. He let the music take him back to another place and time.

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It had been nearly a year ago, in Hong Kong. November 1941, a few weeks before Pearl Harbour. Harm had been hiding from the American authorities under the unwitting protection of the British authorities. He and an old shipmate, Bud Roberts had opened up a small bar that served rice wine and other things to Chinese labourers and British tourists. Bud played piano and Harm tended bar. Brits often complained about having to drink in such close proximity to the Chinese, but Harm didn't care. When he looked at a person, he never saw their skin colour, only the colour of their money.

Life was good and so was the money. Then she arrived on the scene. Harm would never forget the first he saw her walk into his bar. It was as if her eyes had captured his from across the room. He watched her saunter across the lounge from his post behind the bar. When she had taken a seat at the bar, he had moved quickly over to where she was sitting and asked her what she wanted. She ordered a soda with a twist.

"Soda with a twist?" Harm remarked, "Heh, we usually don't get to many orders for those around here."

"I'm kind of getting used to ordering it, myself." She replied, cryptically.

She had taken her drink and listened to Bud play piano. After a while she asked him to play the Marine Corps Hymn. An odd request to say the least, buy Bud was only too happy to oblige. After hearing the song she left.

She came back the next day ordering the same drink and asking for the same song. It happened again and again. Until Harm, upon seeing her arrive had her drink already made for her.

She drank and smiled gratefully.

"I never got your name." Harm said.

"Sarah Mackenzie, but everyone calls me Mac."

"Mac?"

Mac blushed, "It's an old nickname."

"Okay. Well my name is Harmon Rabb, but everybody calls me Harm. Except," He pointed to Bud, "Bud over here. Who calls me Commander, no matter how many times I've told him to stop."

"Commander?"

"We were in the navy together." Bud told her.

"You were in the navy?"

"Yeah." Harm rubbed his neck self-consciously, "There was a…misunderstanding."

He decided to change the subject. "So what's with you and the Marine Corps Hymn? And I'm not just asking because I'm a navy man."

"Both my father and my uncle were in the Marines. It kind of runs in the family, so I heard that song a lot while I was growing up."

He asked her to join him for a night out exploring the city and she accepted. They continued to see each other ever night, after Harm closed the bar. They we very happy together, but every time he asked her about her past. She would change the subject. Or if he asked her why she has in Hong Kong, she simply replied that she was waiting for someone. Deep down, Harm was curious, but he was too happy with the way things were going to push Mac further.

Then came tragedy. On December 7th 1941, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour. What was worse, the Japanese were only a few short miles away from Hong Kong. If there was one thing Harm knew, it was when to cut and run. He sold his bar and everything that wasn't bolted down. What he couldn't sell he burned, including the rice wine.

And it was that in the afternoon of what Roosevelt would later call 'a day which will live in infamy', Harm, Bud and Mac were standing in the alley behind the bar formally Harm's, throwing liquor on a bonfire.

Harm took a swig from the bottle in his hand and winced.

"If I ever own another bar." He hissed, as the liquor burned his throat, "I'll never ever brew my own stuff ever again."

Bud tossed another bottle into the burning barrel in front of them.

"I here that the Japanese will be at the city gates before tomorrow."

Harm grinned wryly, "That's why we're getting out of here." He took another drink. "It may taste like battery acid, but it does take the sting out of being occupied." He turned to Mac and raised his bottle in toast, "Here's looking at you kid."

Mac smiled a sad smile, "With the whole world falling apart, we pick now to fall in love."

Harm bent down and kissed her.

"War doesn't last forever," He told her, "And then we've got the rest of our lives. The last train out Hong Kong leaves for Dehli at five o'clock. I'll pick you up at you hotel."

"No!" Mac jumped up. But she recovered quickly, "No, I'll meet you at the train station."

Harm noticed her reaction, but didn't push it. "All right, but it will be a madhouse. Everyone will be trying to get out of Hong Kong."

"Yes, Harm," Mac looked up at him with her soft expressive eyes, "I'll go with you. I just want you to know…" She shut her eyes, unable to continue. After a second she looked back up at him. "Kiss me." She told him, "Kiss me as if it were for the last time."

Confused by her request, but unable to deny her anything, Harm brought his lips to hers. He poured all of the love and passion he felt for this woman into it.

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The train station was in chaos. There were men, women and children, all desperately trying to get onto a train. Harm looked at his watch. It was quarter to five, and Mac was nowhere to be found. Bud came rushing up to him.

"There's no sign of her sir. She checked out of the hotel and no one's seen her since. She left a note at the desk for you." Bud handed Harm and envelope and went to check on the train.

Harm opened the envelope and pulled out the hand written letter it contained. His world shattered around him as he took in the words that sat upon the page.

Harm,

I can't go with you. I can't tell you why. Please try to understand, I love you.

Mac.

Each word was a dagger in Harm's heart. The din of the station faded in his ears until all he could hear was silence and all he could see was the letter in his shaking hand. So engrossed was he, that he didn't even hear the conductor call out that the train to Dehli was about to depart, or see Bud rush towards him.

"Commander, the train is leaving."

Harm didn't move.

"Commander, don't you hear me? The last train is leaving."

Harm was still too shell shocked to respond. Somewhere a whistle went off. Bud grabbed Harm and pulled him towards the train. The train had just started moving as the two men managed to board.

Harm watched the departing landscape go by. He looked down at the letter in his hand. In a rage he tore it up and tossed the scraps over the railing, as the train sped away from Hong Kong.

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Harm rubbed his tired eyes. Bud had long since gone home. Harm looked at his watch. It was two in the morning. The bottle next to him was nearly empty. Behind him Harm could hear footsteps. The sound got closer, until they were right behind him. Harm didn't bother to turn around. He knew exactly who it was.

Mac stood behind him. Not knowing what to do. For a while both simply remained still, saying nothing, until Mac could no longer stand the silence.

"I need to talk to you, Harm." She said.

Harm turned around, slowly, knowing that in his drunken state, to much movement would knock him over.

"Is that so? And why would I be inclined to listen?"

"Please." Mac's eyes begged him to talk with her.

Harm reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink.

"Why did you come to Casablanca?" He asked, "There are other places."

Mac looked at the ground. "I didn't know you were here." She whispered.

Harm laughed a bitter laugh, "You know, your voice hasn't changed. I can still hear. 'Harm, I love you. I'll go anywhere with you."

Tears began to for, in Mac's eyes, but Harm didn't care.

"Please Harm," She begged, "Don't do this. I understand how you feel."

"Ha!" Harm threw his head back ignoring the wave of nausea that came with it. "You think you know how I feel. Let me ask you, how many days were we together?"

"I didn't count." Mac replied quietly.

"Well I did. Every single one of them. I remember the last one. Ended with a man standing in a train station with a comical look on his face, and waking up every morning with a pain in his back, like someone had stuck a knife there."

Mac looked ashamed. "I know, but you have to understand…"

Harm jumped up from his stool, with anger blazing in his eyes. "Are you going to tell me just who it was that you left me for? Was it Brumby, or was there someone in between?" Harm sneered, "Or aren't you the kind of girl that tells?"

At that moment, whatever was keeping Mac's emotions in check snapped. The tears that she had been holding back started to fall. Without a word or even a backward glance she turned and walked out the door. Harm watched her leave and then turned back to the bar. He picked up the whiskey bottle and, with a cry of fury, threw it against the wall, shattering it. He collapsed back into his stool and cradled his head in his hands.

'What am I going to do?'