Page 35 of Semper Fi

“H oo boy,” Joe exclaimed. “I sure wish someone had told me how many dames there are in Australia! Wouldn’t have wasted so much time playing around on Guadalcanal!”

Laughing, Cal waved to the people of Melbourne, who crowded along the railroad tracks, cheering.

Beside him, Jim waved politely, and Cal elbowed Sully, who only watched silently with hollow eyes.

Being in the hold of the transport ship in rough seas hadn’t helped Sully’s symptoms, but at least there’d be more medicine where they were going.

Soon they marched off the train and into a sports stadium. Pete snorted. “A football field? That’s the best they can do?”

“I think it’s a cricket ground, actually,” Jim noted.

“Cricket? Pansy-ass idea of a sport. Either way there’s no goddamn roof.” Pete grumbled to himself as they continued on inside.

The tiers of seats had been replaced with their bunks, and despite the open air, Cal stretched out happily. “Feels like luxury to me.”

Jim smiled from his rack nearby. “Now we just need a shower.”

“Do you ever.” Pete grinned.

“That’s an outrageous claim, Marine. Private First Class Bennett smells like roses on a summer morning. As do I, of course.” Cal grinned himself.

“Oh yeah, and I’m a bucket of fucking daisies.” Pete laughed .

They were given some of their back pay in Australian dollars—along with strict orders not to leave the cricket ground that night. As darkness set in, Cal nudged Jim’s arm. “Come on, Pistol found a way out.”

“But we’re not allowed to go.”

“What are they going to do? Throw us all in the brig? Who’s going to fight the Japs?”

Jim waved a hand at his uniform. “We’re filthy.”

“Who cares? This is our first night back in civilization in what, a year? Since I don’t count New River as civilization. We’re right downtown. We are seeing the sights, my friend.”

Even Sully perked up. “Think we can meet some girls? I’d sure like to meet a girl.”

“Damn right we’ll meet some girls,” Cal said, smiling.

Jim raised an eyebrow. “I’m married, in case you forgot.”

As if he could forget that. “You’re still coming for moral support.”

Off they went, along with half the men quartered in the stadium, and probably most of the officers too. The streets of Melbourne teemed with Marines and Australian women. The bars had closed at six, but a drunken corporal slurred that the hotel up the street was still serving.

They crowded into a booth and drank round after round. Jim stuck to beer, but it wasn’t long before he was flushed and loose limbed, his knee knocking into Cal’s beneath the table. Cal jammed his hand in his pocket so he wouldn’t reach for Jim’s thigh.

Back on the street, they ate meat pies and sang rousing choruses of any song they could think of. Soon they broke off to pursue the women giving them shy looks—or in some cases, rather bold glances. By an ice cream stand, Sully ogled a young brunette who giggled with her friends.

Joe swung his arm over Sully’s shoulders. “Go an’ buy her a treat. Maybe she’ll give ya one too.”

When Sully shambled off in her direction, Jim frowned. “We should take him back. He needs his sleep.”

“For fuck’s sake, Johnny, he hasn’t looked this good in months. Let the kid have some fun,” Pete muttered .

Cal cleared his throat. “As much as I hate to say it—seriously, don’t get used to it—Pistol’s right. Let him have a night out.”

“Have another drink, Johnny,” Joe drawled, brandishing the bottle he’d lifted from the hotel. He took a swig and passed it to Jim. “Jesus, lighten up.”

“Fine.” Jim grabbed the bottle and lifted it to his lips, gulping rapidly.

“Whoa, not too much.” Cal reached for it, but Jim ducked away.

“No, Joe’s right.” Grimacing, Jim took another swig. “I’m going to lighten up.”

“If you insist.” Trying not to worry, Cal fell into step as they left Sully and his girl behind.

It was long after midnight when they stumbled into a park and flopped down on the grass. Sprawled out, Pete snored loudly, while Joe sung slurred verses to himself as he sat against a tree. Jim dropped next to Cal, leaning on his hands with his legs splayed carelessly. He tilted his head back.

“There’s the Southern Cross.”

“Indeed it is. Nice seeing the stars again after all that rain and being holed up on the ship.”

Jim leaned closer, still looking up. His shoulder pressed against Cal’s. “What’s that one there?”

“I think it’s Canis Major. One of Orion’s hunting dogs.” Cal breathed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back into Jim.

“Huh. Don’t see a dog.”

Cal opened his eyes. “No?”

Jim’s gaze was still locked on the night sky. “Nope. A bear maybe.”

“A bear? With a tail?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Chuckling, Cal shrugged. “Sure. Okay. It’s a bear. Definitely.”

Jim turned his head, and they almost bumped noses. “Now you’re just humoring me.”

Cal swallowed hard. “Me? Humor you? Never. ”

Laughing again, Jim’s breath fluttered across Cal’s face. It was warm and smelled of whiskey, and Cal wanted to dive into Jim’s mouth and taste him. They stared at each other for long moments—too long. The look in Jim’s eyes—Cal could almost convince himself Jim returned his feelings. Maybe…

“Cal? Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Do you ever—”

But before Jim could say another word, Joe vomited loudly in the grass, and Jim jerked away and jumped to his feet. “We’d better get back. Reveille is in… Lord, too soon.”

“Let me just piss.” Swallowing the disappointment, Cal disappeared into the bushes. He was out of his mind, thinking even for a moment that Jim could ever feel anything for him but friendship. “Wishful fucking thinking,” he muttered as he pulled out his cock and pissed.

“What is, mate?”

Cal nearly jumped out of his skin. He glanced to his right, where a man leaned casually against a tree. They were hidden from sight by thick bushes on all sides. Cal said, “I thought I was alone.”

“Apologies. Didn’t mean to startle you.” The man was a few years older, with broad shoulders and what looked to be light brown hair. He was handsome, and his gaze didn’t falter.

A thrill shot up Cal’s spine. He returned the appraising look boldly. When he finished pissing, he didn’t zip up. Instead he stroked his cock lightly, giving his audience the show he clearly wanted. “Shouldn’t you be off at war?”

The man grinned, dimples creasing his cheeks. “I was. Got enough of my leg blown off that I don’t have to go back.” He knocked on his left shin, which reverberated hollowly. He pushed off the tree, limping slightly as he stepped toward Cal. “How long are you here for?”

“Cal?” Jim’s voice echoed in the night.

Feeling strangely guilty, Cal tucked himself away. “Coming!”

The man smirked. “Not yet. But meet me here tomorrow night and we’ll see what we can do.”

Cal nodded. Maybe it was just what he needed.

1948

When the first explosion rocketed into the night, Cal jerked, and his breath caught as his eyes popped open. He rubbed his bleary face and blinked at the bursts of color—red, blue, green, pink, and yellow—reflected in the windows across his office.

He could hear the distant cheers of the crowds as the fireworks continued. Pushing his chair back, he got up and walked around his desk to the window. The explosions sparkled and shimmered over the water with pops that echoed, fading along with the trails of color.

Before he could stop himself, he thought about bringing Sophie and Adam next year—how they could have a picnic in Central Park beforehand and ride the carousel, and maybe he could convince Jim to ride it too.

He wondered what the Fourth of July fireworks in Tivoli were like.

Surely couldn’t compare to New York City, but he wanted to be there so badly his chest burned.

He leaned his forehead against the glass, the bursts of light visible even with his eyes closed, licks of flame around the edges of the darkness.

“Oh! Mr. Cunningham.”

Cal turned to face the plump, older woman in the doorway. “Hello, Audrey.”

“I didn’t think anyone else was still here.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “You gave me a fright.”

“Sorry.” He frowned and glanced at his watch. “You should’ve gone home hours ago. Not to mention that you shouldn’t have been at work at all today.”

She held up a folder and smiled. “I was just going to leave this for you on your desk. I had some files to finish up for your father. And I could say the same to you. I thought you’d be at your family’s barbecue on the beach.”

Cal stepped forward and reached for the folder. “Didn’t feel like the Hamptons today. All that fresh air and sunshine.” He exaggerated a shudder.

Audrey smiled wryly. “Yes, what a trial it must be. Why don’t you go out with your friends? It’ll do you good.”

“I was just getting ready to leave.” Cal put the folder on his desk and shrugged on his suit jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

When Cal was alone again, he leaned against his desk.

He’d had no real reason to come into the office, but his Fifth Avenue apartment had felt suffocating since he’d returned to the city two weeks before.

He took any excuse to go out. His nights were restless as he tossed and turned and dreamed of freckled skin and warm lips.

He nodded to the security guard on his way downstairs and braced himself for the blast of humidity once he was out of the building.

He had Wall Street to himself as he made his way uptown.

The air was ripe with the smells of the city, especially the lingering scent of garbage that never quite disappeared in the summer.

He could have taken the subway, but that would just get him home to his empty apartment faster.

By the time he reached Greenwich Village, his tie was in his pocket and his jacket slung over his shoulder. He approached a bar and thought about going in for a drink, but hesitated by the door, remembering another establishment a couple of blocks away.

Maybe it’ll do me good.