On August 1 we arrived in Bazoilles and began our work as A.E.F. nurses. I had made it safely across the Atlantic. I'd done it. By the time we docked the only thing bothering was my wool uniform.
We quickly set up in Bazoilles-Sur-Meuse and went to work. Bazoilles was home to seven American Hospitals.
The heat was terrible still. I tugged at my uniform squirming in my sweat as I stepped off the gangway.
"I used to feel very proper and important in this, but now I'd rather be naked." The woman next to me smiled. Her name was Ada May Johnson. She was another student I knew from the University.
I laughed. "I know what you mean."
Personally, I couldn't wait to change into my other uniform, the one I wore when I was actually at work. At least it was a lighter material and color and would reflect the heat rather than absorb it.
"Rose, did you…" I missed the rest of what Ada was saying. I heard someone say "Vanderbilt." Someone was probably just casually making reference to them. They were a powerful and well-known family and unlike the DeWitt Bukaters they hadn't fallen. Still, it caught my attention. It was my mother's maiden name. Therefore, I was one.
"…what?"
"Did you borrow my brush? I couldn't find it before."
"Oh…no."
My mother would have a heart attack if she knew what I was doing or what I was for that matter. Though, keeping in mind the patriotic fervor back home, most may have considered a nurse in the American Expeditionary Forces more respectable than a then a widowed hermit that lives off of other people's money.
My father considered my education as a way of showing how much smarter his daughter was than most of his associates. Mother always said the purpose of university was to find a suitable husband. I hoped she wouldn't be too disappointed to learn that my education was being put into action-literally.
The thought of my parents and college usually depressed me. As much tension may have been between during my early years they were still my parents. I knew if my mother really knew what I was doing she would be proud of me, (but she would still have heart attack-and probably only partially due to the fact that I could be killed, but more because I that hadn't been killed already six years ago.)
No one had come to see my graduation. During the ceremony I was with the girls I knew from school, but after I went back home. I didn't have enough time to notify my friends and drag them down to Maryland. And I hadn't heard from Sammy or Mary in months, but I was busy too with school.
***
The first week was mostly torturous. We carried out normal hospital and worked our shifts, but there were no patients yet. We knew they would come, but for now it was just waiting. I had never seen war injuries before. I knew not even the traumatically ailing patients I encountered at the hospital back home would prepare for what I was in for this time.
Within one week we received our first patients. These were not seriously ill, mostly walking cases. It was not the injuries of this particular batch that would stun me the most, but the three coincidences that awaited me. These coincidences came in the form of men.
The first recognized me before I recognized him. He was pale and unshaven with a lower-leg mauled from shrapnel. He was probably our worst case. Luckily, we were able to remove almost all of it. He'd be walking again on his own soon enough.
While wrapping his new bandages I felt something tugging at my skirt. I put my hand on his to calm him and lowered it to the side of the bed. Once I finished I moved myself over to his head. Something about this one was bothering me.
He stretched out his arm and touched his hand to my face. He removed my glasses and then my hat tugging my curls and moving my face into a more viewable position.
I moved a tuft of black hair from his eyes. As soon as I saw into the pale eyes I knew who he was. I hadn't seen him in over six years. I had only met him a few times, but I remember liking him.
"Hol…"
*Holden.*
"You?" He said after nearly a minute of staring.
"Yes." I nodded my head solemnly.
"How? It can't be." He said weakly.
"My shift ends in twenty minutes I'll be back then." I got up moving in a daze. "Just try and get some rest." I left him there like that.
*Alright, what am I doing? Private Bender needs an extra blanket. Bender. Blanket. Bender. Blanket. Holden. Hockley. Holden Hockley. Jesus Christ!*
Thank God I didn't have to be in surgery. After my shift ended I went back to Holden.
"Are you feeling up for a walk, Corporal Hockley?"
"Am I able to?"
"You're getting stronger. We don't want the leg getting too weak. Give it some exercise. We'll go slow."
I helped him up and led him outside letting him lean on me for support.
"Nice day." He said looking up, squinting his eyes toward the sun.
"Sorry I took so long. I got held up."
"I asked for you but they said there was no one here by that name."
"It's Dawson now."
"I thought you nurses here couldn't be married."
"I'm not."
"Widowed?"
"Not technically. Watch your step here." I directed him.
"Can I sit down now?"
"Not yet…only one other person knows. My mother doesn't know. Your brother-"
"Half-brother."
"Sorry, your 'half-brother' doesn't know either."
He stared vaguely and spoke after a time. "Jesus. You faked your own death."
"In a way I suppose."
"Well, I guess you did a pretty good job of it."
"Thanks…I suppose."
"I won't tell anyone…if that's what you want."
"Do what you like. They don't scare me now."
"Please don't mind me saying this, but…"
"Mmm?"
"Cal and Ruth may not be on my list of favorite people, but I think your particular plan for a break up may have been a little extreme."
"Watch it. That's my mother you're talking about."
"This from the woman who let's her believe her only child is dead."
"You can sit down now." I pulled an occupied chair toward us and slammed it down rather curtly in front of him and pointed.
"I see I've struck a nerve."
"I've got plenty more if you want to try me."
"Christ, and I went to your God damn funeral too."
"I was your brother's fiancée. Why the hell wouldn't you?"
"It was pretty nice. Cal gave the eulogy. It was actually rather sweet. Odd for him, but not as good as the one you gave for your father. Then we went back to your family's house and they served that really disgusting English sausage you always liked."
"Oh I love those. I haven't had them in years."
"Well, you should have gone. They had piles of it."
"I don't think they were expecting me."
"Would've been a great surprise."
"Yes, Holden, barrels of laughs."
I sat down on the grass next to him. Another soldier in his unit came up to him.
"How's the leg Hoppin' Holden? And who's the nurse? Damn!"
Holden shook his head. "Tobey, this is Rose. Rose, this is Tobey Jackson."
"Rose Dawson. Nice to meet you."
"And it is really nice to meet you. Whoa, here comes the Serge." Tobey pointed with both hands. He spoke in a very relaxed and unmistakable manner, slurring through his words.
"George!" I looked up stunned.
His face dropped as soon as he saw me. I questioned him with my eyes.
"I need to talk to you." he said in a way few would dare to challenge.
"I can't leave him alone." I motioned to Holden.
"I'll be fine."
"No, I'm not allowed to leave you unattended."
"I'll attend to him." Tobey smiled.
"I'll die in his hands." Holden pointed to Tobey.
"One of my best bud's father's back home is a doctor. Dr. Parker. He taught us kids a few things. Probably 'cause we were always getting hurt in some brilliant scheme. So I know everything I need to know to watch our little boy here."
"I swear if you leave with him he'll commit manslaughter."
"Please Rose." George grabbed my arm hard.
"I'll take him." Ada was between shifts too.
"Thank you so much."
Before I could respond George dragged me over to the end of the camp on an empty stretch of grass.
"George please, you're hurting me."
"Sorry."
"And you're scaring me too." There was something new about his demeanor I didn't like. I felt like panicking.
"I'm not gonna be able to help that. I don't know any other way to do this so just please sit down and don't say anything." He held my shoulders and stared at me hard.
"WHAT?!"
***
September 16, 1917,
"George." Mary whispered. "George." She had been awake for nearly a half an hour now. It was sweet watching him sleep for the first ten minutes, but now she was just getting antsy. It was nearly nine o'clock and his parents were coming up from New Jersey this afternoon to see them. They had met them Mary a few times before, it took them a little to warm up to her, but she easily grew on them.
A word on the Calverts. I am not the first person I know to alter my identity for personal purposes. Tevye Meisels was born in a small village in Poland. To escape persecution Tevye's father, a widower moved himself and his two sons to England. Tevye, the younger was only eight. In London, Meisels was met with similar opposition and found it hard to find work. Eventually, he was hired by booksellers by the names of Williams & Calvert. When Tevye was eighteen years old he decided to leave home and make his fortune in America. Tevye knew that well America may be the land of opportunity his name would still cause a problem. At Ellis Island, he gave his name as William Calvert, the names of the only men willing to hire his father. Since he had been living in England for ten years he was armed with a cockney accent and general knowledge. No one would suspect. Within a short period of time he found a job and much to his family's delight a nice Jewish girl. Unfortunately, she was an immigrant from Russia and spoke little English. He came to call on her regularly and little by little she learned English. He married Sophie Kaminsky one year later. After becoming successful in the insurance he legally changed his first name back to Tevye.
So there you have it. The Calverts, an interesting bunch, wouldn't you say? Henceforth, despite appearances, Mary being Catholic was slightly unnerving at first to Teyve and Sophie.
Now, back to Mary and George. "George!" Mary shook a little harder.
"Huh?" He wiped the sleep from his eyes.
"We gotta get up now if we're gonna meet your parents in three hours."
"They know where to find me."
"Won't it be a nice surprise when they find us in bed together."
"Won't be as scary as Iyour/I parents finding us in bed together."
"True enough. But you gotta move, my stomach's falling asleep." She shifted herself and George moved his head.
Mary had been a virgin with George, something George, unlike most men that find breaking through untouched territory to be exciting, felt guilty about. He being seven years older, and not "a good Catholic girl" had been around a little more. Mary didn't seem to care in the least. She just wanted to be with George. Having sex didn't make her any more or less mature-not that while her year and a half away didn't drive her wild, not because she was still a virgin, but because she couldn't be with George. Their relationship developed through their letters. That's where that made the unlikely decision to be together after what would have seemed to most a brief flirtation. It didn't matter now. They were getting married in a month and they had their hands full with that.
Mary got dressed and put a business-looking navy blue skirt and jacket combo. She checked herself over in the mirror several times making sure she looked like respectable enough.
"Quit it. They like you."
"I'm a perfectionist."
"But now you're adorably anal about it." She gave him a jab in the arm. He laughed clutching his arm, she was stronger than she looked and usually realized.
"It's my parents we'll have to worry about."
"I thought you said they liked me."
"They do. They don't know you're Jewish yet."
"Christ, they really put the fear of God in you."
"Well, that's the complicated area in our situation, isn't it? And what about you? You're a complete mama's boy."
"Yeah, but my mom's more fun. And I don't tell them 'I'm staying with Em and Joe until the wedding.'" He stuck out his tongue. Mary shot him a look and he innocently grinned back.
Then someone knocked on the door. "Hey, you people alive in there?" It was Emily. Mr. and Mrs. Calvert would be meeting the rest of the crew that day.
"No, go away we're having wild sex and won't be out 'til evening sometime." Mary responded.
"Really?" Sonny said from behind the door. Mary and George burst into a fit of laughter and they could hear Emily doing the same from the other side as well as a few 'whats' and 'huhs' from Sonny.
George unlocked the door and let the two in.
"You're so gullible." Emily shook her head at Sonny.
"God this neighborhood stinks." George peered out his windowed while putting on his jacket. The particular area of Manhattan they lived in was known as "Hell's Kitchen." George's parents had never been to his apartment. They would take the El and meet them on the other side of town.
"Wow, ragazza mia, we finally get to meet the in-laws!" Emily hugged her best friend.
George laughed. Marrying Mary would also mean marrying Emily in a way, but he didn't mind. He liked the kid. She became a sort of surrogate sister.
"Let's hurry it up I'm starvin.'" Sonny tapped his foot.
"Sonny, we're not gonna be eating until noon." Mary raised an eyebrow,
"What?!"
"Well, considering we're going to be eating lunch, and eating it anytime hours before noon would make it breakfast." George stated as if he were teaching it to a class of fourth graders. Sonny frowned. "I've got the math on this complicated subject all worked out. I can show the research at my office."
"Fuck you Calvert."
"No thanks, I'm engaged."
The group left George's apartment several minutes later. It had rained the night before and the streets were still wet. The sun had just broken through the clouds as they left the building and the neighborhood had an almost musty smell.
They walked a few blocks toward the train station. They took the route through Sonny's neighborhood near his home on Tenth Avenue.
"Aw Jesus, Carm." Sonny looked toward a developing street fight. His brother and some other kid seemed to be at the center of a shouting crowd. Carmine Andolini, at this time twenty, had been part of a local gang from the time he was sixteen to the end of his short life.
"We might want to take the long way to El." Mary suggested.
"No, that's it, he's quittin' this now." Sonny started toward the commotion.
"No, I'll go. This is my arena." George reached for his gun. He forgot he didn't have it today. Mary had convinced him that carrying it everywhere was overkill. He waved it off and he was about to move in the direction of the crowd trying to get Carmine's attention.
Mary noticed Carmine pull a knife and his opponent in turn pull a gun. She grabbed George's arm, he was undeterred by the new danger. She gave him a hard look and mouthed a harsh 'No' through her teeth.
It took Sonny a moment to realize how grave the situation was, even though Carm had probably been in it before. "NO!!!!!!!!" he shouted in a mix of panic and rage.
The kid with the gun looked in the direction of the shout. Carmine immediately recognizing his brother's voice lunged toward his attacker trying to distract him. When he found the gun turned back on him again he dived in several directions at once trying to avoid any shots.
After the first shot was fired all the surrounding bystanders threw themselves to the ground. Several more shots followed instantaneously as the gunman tried to locate Carmine.
Mary, George, Emily, and Sonny had pulled each other to the ground in the same manner as everyone else. Once there was a long enough pause George, ever on duty, moved to get up.
Mary pulled him back down, softly whispering "Stay" into his ear. He stopped at the familiar phrase. It was his argument to keep Mary in New York. "Stay." It had been over two years and they had come so far from that night although it still burned in their minds.
She smiled up at him reassuring him. He looked over at Emily next to Mary who was holding her hand. She was white as a sheet and blood was dripping from her face to her shirt.
He grabbed her face and tugged at her shirt looking for where she was hit. He panicked moving his face up and down her body, searching for anything. It took some time for him to realize that Emily was sitting up on her own leaning over Mary.
The blood soaking Emily was not her own. Emily didn't deter her eyes from her friend. Her hand lay on her chest trying to cover the wound. Sonny crawled over toward her and clutched Emily's back. They had all grown silent, huddled over the dead woman.
We quickly set up in Bazoilles-Sur-Meuse and went to work. Bazoilles was home to seven American Hospitals.
The heat was terrible still. I tugged at my uniform squirming in my sweat as I stepped off the gangway.
"I used to feel very proper and important in this, but now I'd rather be naked." The woman next to me smiled. Her name was Ada May Johnson. She was another student I knew from the University.
I laughed. "I know what you mean."
Personally, I couldn't wait to change into my other uniform, the one I wore when I was actually at work. At least it was a lighter material and color and would reflect the heat rather than absorb it.
"Rose, did you…" I missed the rest of what Ada was saying. I heard someone say "Vanderbilt." Someone was probably just casually making reference to them. They were a powerful and well-known family and unlike the DeWitt Bukaters they hadn't fallen. Still, it caught my attention. It was my mother's maiden name. Therefore, I was one.
"…what?"
"Did you borrow my brush? I couldn't find it before."
"Oh…no."
My mother would have a heart attack if she knew what I was doing or what I was for that matter. Though, keeping in mind the patriotic fervor back home, most may have considered a nurse in the American Expeditionary Forces more respectable than a then a widowed hermit that lives off of other people's money.
My father considered my education as a way of showing how much smarter his daughter was than most of his associates. Mother always said the purpose of university was to find a suitable husband. I hoped she wouldn't be too disappointed to learn that my education was being put into action-literally.
The thought of my parents and college usually depressed me. As much tension may have been between during my early years they were still my parents. I knew if my mother really knew what I was doing she would be proud of me, (but she would still have heart attack-and probably only partially due to the fact that I could be killed, but more because I that hadn't been killed already six years ago.)
No one had come to see my graduation. During the ceremony I was with the girls I knew from school, but after I went back home. I didn't have enough time to notify my friends and drag them down to Maryland. And I hadn't heard from Sammy or Mary in months, but I was busy too with school.
***
The first week was mostly torturous. We carried out normal hospital and worked our shifts, but there were no patients yet. We knew they would come, but for now it was just waiting. I had never seen war injuries before. I knew not even the traumatically ailing patients I encountered at the hospital back home would prepare for what I was in for this time.
Within one week we received our first patients. These were not seriously ill, mostly walking cases. It was not the injuries of this particular batch that would stun me the most, but the three coincidences that awaited me. These coincidences came in the form of men.
The first recognized me before I recognized him. He was pale and unshaven with a lower-leg mauled from shrapnel. He was probably our worst case. Luckily, we were able to remove almost all of it. He'd be walking again on his own soon enough.
While wrapping his new bandages I felt something tugging at my skirt. I put my hand on his to calm him and lowered it to the side of the bed. Once I finished I moved myself over to his head. Something about this one was bothering me.
He stretched out his arm and touched his hand to my face. He removed my glasses and then my hat tugging my curls and moving my face into a more viewable position.
I moved a tuft of black hair from his eyes. As soon as I saw into the pale eyes I knew who he was. I hadn't seen him in over six years. I had only met him a few times, but I remember liking him.
"Hol…"
*Holden.*
"You?" He said after nearly a minute of staring.
"Yes." I nodded my head solemnly.
"How? It can't be." He said weakly.
"My shift ends in twenty minutes I'll be back then." I got up moving in a daze. "Just try and get some rest." I left him there like that.
*Alright, what am I doing? Private Bender needs an extra blanket. Bender. Blanket. Bender. Blanket. Holden. Hockley. Holden Hockley. Jesus Christ!*
Thank God I didn't have to be in surgery. After my shift ended I went back to Holden.
"Are you feeling up for a walk, Corporal Hockley?"
"Am I able to?"
"You're getting stronger. We don't want the leg getting too weak. Give it some exercise. We'll go slow."
I helped him up and led him outside letting him lean on me for support.
"Nice day." He said looking up, squinting his eyes toward the sun.
"Sorry I took so long. I got held up."
"I asked for you but they said there was no one here by that name."
"It's Dawson now."
"I thought you nurses here couldn't be married."
"I'm not."
"Widowed?"
"Not technically. Watch your step here." I directed him.
"Can I sit down now?"
"Not yet…only one other person knows. My mother doesn't know. Your brother-"
"Half-brother."
"Sorry, your 'half-brother' doesn't know either."
He stared vaguely and spoke after a time. "Jesus. You faked your own death."
"In a way I suppose."
"Well, I guess you did a pretty good job of it."
"Thanks…I suppose."
"I won't tell anyone…if that's what you want."
"Do what you like. They don't scare me now."
"Please don't mind me saying this, but…"
"Mmm?"
"Cal and Ruth may not be on my list of favorite people, but I think your particular plan for a break up may have been a little extreme."
"Watch it. That's my mother you're talking about."
"This from the woman who let's her believe her only child is dead."
"You can sit down now." I pulled an occupied chair toward us and slammed it down rather curtly in front of him and pointed.
"I see I've struck a nerve."
"I've got plenty more if you want to try me."
"Christ, and I went to your God damn funeral too."
"I was your brother's fiancée. Why the hell wouldn't you?"
"It was pretty nice. Cal gave the eulogy. It was actually rather sweet. Odd for him, but not as good as the one you gave for your father. Then we went back to your family's house and they served that really disgusting English sausage you always liked."
"Oh I love those. I haven't had them in years."
"Well, you should have gone. They had piles of it."
"I don't think they were expecting me."
"Would've been a great surprise."
"Yes, Holden, barrels of laughs."
I sat down on the grass next to him. Another soldier in his unit came up to him.
"How's the leg Hoppin' Holden? And who's the nurse? Damn!"
Holden shook his head. "Tobey, this is Rose. Rose, this is Tobey Jackson."
"Rose Dawson. Nice to meet you."
"And it is really nice to meet you. Whoa, here comes the Serge." Tobey pointed with both hands. He spoke in a very relaxed and unmistakable manner, slurring through his words.
"George!" I looked up stunned.
His face dropped as soon as he saw me. I questioned him with my eyes.
"I need to talk to you." he said in a way few would dare to challenge.
"I can't leave him alone." I motioned to Holden.
"I'll be fine."
"No, I'm not allowed to leave you unattended."
"I'll attend to him." Tobey smiled.
"I'll die in his hands." Holden pointed to Tobey.
"One of my best bud's father's back home is a doctor. Dr. Parker. He taught us kids a few things. Probably 'cause we were always getting hurt in some brilliant scheme. So I know everything I need to know to watch our little boy here."
"I swear if you leave with him he'll commit manslaughter."
"Please Rose." George grabbed my arm hard.
"I'll take him." Ada was between shifts too.
"Thank you so much."
Before I could respond George dragged me over to the end of the camp on an empty stretch of grass.
"George please, you're hurting me."
"Sorry."
"And you're scaring me too." There was something new about his demeanor I didn't like. I felt like panicking.
"I'm not gonna be able to help that. I don't know any other way to do this so just please sit down and don't say anything." He held my shoulders and stared at me hard.
"WHAT?!"
***
September 16, 1917,
"George." Mary whispered. "George." She had been awake for nearly a half an hour now. It was sweet watching him sleep for the first ten minutes, but now she was just getting antsy. It was nearly nine o'clock and his parents were coming up from New Jersey this afternoon to see them. They had met them Mary a few times before, it took them a little to warm up to her, but she easily grew on them.
A word on the Calverts. I am not the first person I know to alter my identity for personal purposes. Tevye Meisels was born in a small village in Poland. To escape persecution Tevye's father, a widower moved himself and his two sons to England. Tevye, the younger was only eight. In London, Meisels was met with similar opposition and found it hard to find work. Eventually, he was hired by booksellers by the names of Williams & Calvert. When Tevye was eighteen years old he decided to leave home and make his fortune in America. Tevye knew that well America may be the land of opportunity his name would still cause a problem. At Ellis Island, he gave his name as William Calvert, the names of the only men willing to hire his father. Since he had been living in England for ten years he was armed with a cockney accent and general knowledge. No one would suspect. Within a short period of time he found a job and much to his family's delight a nice Jewish girl. Unfortunately, she was an immigrant from Russia and spoke little English. He came to call on her regularly and little by little she learned English. He married Sophie Kaminsky one year later. After becoming successful in the insurance he legally changed his first name back to Tevye.
So there you have it. The Calverts, an interesting bunch, wouldn't you say? Henceforth, despite appearances, Mary being Catholic was slightly unnerving at first to Teyve and Sophie.
Now, back to Mary and George. "George!" Mary shook a little harder.
"Huh?" He wiped the sleep from his eyes.
"We gotta get up now if we're gonna meet your parents in three hours."
"They know where to find me."
"Won't it be a nice surprise when they find us in bed together."
"Won't be as scary as Iyour/I parents finding us in bed together."
"True enough. But you gotta move, my stomach's falling asleep." She shifted herself and George moved his head.
Mary had been a virgin with George, something George, unlike most men that find breaking through untouched territory to be exciting, felt guilty about. He being seven years older, and not "a good Catholic girl" had been around a little more. Mary didn't seem to care in the least. She just wanted to be with George. Having sex didn't make her any more or less mature-not that while her year and a half away didn't drive her wild, not because she was still a virgin, but because she couldn't be with George. Their relationship developed through their letters. That's where that made the unlikely decision to be together after what would have seemed to most a brief flirtation. It didn't matter now. They were getting married in a month and they had their hands full with that.
Mary got dressed and put a business-looking navy blue skirt and jacket combo. She checked herself over in the mirror several times making sure she looked like respectable enough.
"Quit it. They like you."
"I'm a perfectionist."
"But now you're adorably anal about it." She gave him a jab in the arm. He laughed clutching his arm, she was stronger than she looked and usually realized.
"It's my parents we'll have to worry about."
"I thought you said they liked me."
"They do. They don't know you're Jewish yet."
"Christ, they really put the fear of God in you."
"Well, that's the complicated area in our situation, isn't it? And what about you? You're a complete mama's boy."
"Yeah, but my mom's more fun. And I don't tell them 'I'm staying with Em and Joe until the wedding.'" He stuck out his tongue. Mary shot him a look and he innocently grinned back.
Then someone knocked on the door. "Hey, you people alive in there?" It was Emily. Mr. and Mrs. Calvert would be meeting the rest of the crew that day.
"No, go away we're having wild sex and won't be out 'til evening sometime." Mary responded.
"Really?" Sonny said from behind the door. Mary and George burst into a fit of laughter and they could hear Emily doing the same from the other side as well as a few 'whats' and 'huhs' from Sonny.
George unlocked the door and let the two in.
"You're so gullible." Emily shook her head at Sonny.
"God this neighborhood stinks." George peered out his windowed while putting on his jacket. The particular area of Manhattan they lived in was known as "Hell's Kitchen." George's parents had never been to his apartment. They would take the El and meet them on the other side of town.
"Wow, ragazza mia, we finally get to meet the in-laws!" Emily hugged her best friend.
George laughed. Marrying Mary would also mean marrying Emily in a way, but he didn't mind. He liked the kid. She became a sort of surrogate sister.
"Let's hurry it up I'm starvin.'" Sonny tapped his foot.
"Sonny, we're not gonna be eating until noon." Mary raised an eyebrow,
"What?!"
"Well, considering we're going to be eating lunch, and eating it anytime hours before noon would make it breakfast." George stated as if he were teaching it to a class of fourth graders. Sonny frowned. "I've got the math on this complicated subject all worked out. I can show the research at my office."
"Fuck you Calvert."
"No thanks, I'm engaged."
The group left George's apartment several minutes later. It had rained the night before and the streets were still wet. The sun had just broken through the clouds as they left the building and the neighborhood had an almost musty smell.
They walked a few blocks toward the train station. They took the route through Sonny's neighborhood near his home on Tenth Avenue.
"Aw Jesus, Carm." Sonny looked toward a developing street fight. His brother and some other kid seemed to be at the center of a shouting crowd. Carmine Andolini, at this time twenty, had been part of a local gang from the time he was sixteen to the end of his short life.
"We might want to take the long way to El." Mary suggested.
"No, that's it, he's quittin' this now." Sonny started toward the commotion.
"No, I'll go. This is my arena." George reached for his gun. He forgot he didn't have it today. Mary had convinced him that carrying it everywhere was overkill. He waved it off and he was about to move in the direction of the crowd trying to get Carmine's attention.
Mary noticed Carmine pull a knife and his opponent in turn pull a gun. She grabbed George's arm, he was undeterred by the new danger. She gave him a hard look and mouthed a harsh 'No' through her teeth.
It took Sonny a moment to realize how grave the situation was, even though Carm had probably been in it before. "NO!!!!!!!!" he shouted in a mix of panic and rage.
The kid with the gun looked in the direction of the shout. Carmine immediately recognizing his brother's voice lunged toward his attacker trying to distract him. When he found the gun turned back on him again he dived in several directions at once trying to avoid any shots.
After the first shot was fired all the surrounding bystanders threw themselves to the ground. Several more shots followed instantaneously as the gunman tried to locate Carmine.
Mary, George, Emily, and Sonny had pulled each other to the ground in the same manner as everyone else. Once there was a long enough pause George, ever on duty, moved to get up.
Mary pulled him back down, softly whispering "Stay" into his ear. He stopped at the familiar phrase. It was his argument to keep Mary in New York. "Stay." It had been over two years and they had come so far from that night although it still burned in their minds.
She smiled up at him reassuring him. He looked over at Emily next to Mary who was holding her hand. She was white as a sheet and blood was dripping from her face to her shirt.
He grabbed her face and tugged at her shirt looking for where she was hit. He panicked moving his face up and down her body, searching for anything. It took some time for him to realize that Emily was sitting up on her own leaning over Mary.
The blood soaking Emily was not her own. Emily didn't deter her eyes from her friend. Her hand lay on her chest trying to cover the wound. Sonny crawled over toward her and clutched Emily's back. They had all grown silent, huddled over the dead woman.