Page 4 of Semper Fi

“I told you I tried them once when I was a kid.” Jim shuddered at the memory.

“Right, you swiped a pack from your father and smoked the whole thing in a couple of hours. ”

“Then I threw up all night. Never been tempted to try them again.”

“Hey, why’d you call the orchard Clover Grove?”

“It was my mother’s idea. She was Irish, and she thought it would be lucky. You know, four-leaf clovers and all that. Of course, she died two years after they bought the place, so I guess not.”

“How old were you?”

“Didn’t we ever talk about this?”

“No. I know she died, but that’s all.”

“I was five. She went in childbirth, along with the baby. I don’t know if it was a boy or a girl. It was only me and my father after that, and he never spoke of it. Not once.”

Cal exhaled a long puff of smoke. “Seems strange that I didn’t know that, after everything. I guess over there, we didn’t talk about home too much.”

“No, not much.” Jim took another drink.

Cal stubbed out his cigarette on the fence and took a pull from his own beer, his throat working as he swallowed. “The kids get to sleep okay?”

“Adam was out like a light. Sophie wanted to read her book. I told her she could read a chapter. She’ll probably do five if I don’t go back in a little while and check.”

“I’m sorry if I upset her by coming here.”

Jim shook his head. “It’s not you. I’m sorry about the way she acted. There’s just been so much change for her. First Ann, and then Eddie up and leaving not even a week later.”

“Have you heard from him at all?”

“Not a word. I really don’t get it, Cal.

” He blew out a long breath. “When my Dad took a bad turn in the summer of forty-two, he hired Eddie to do the hard labor. He kept on after Dad died, and when I got home I convinced him to stay. We were expanding onto the back twenty acres that used to belong to the Turners, and all that planting and tending to the new trees was a lot of work.”

“He was keen to move on? ”

“Yes. He and Ann had had a misunderstanding. She’d taken offense to some comment or other he’d made.

I don’t know why she was so worked up—it had all sounded harmless to me.

It wasn’t like her.” He took a sip of beer.

“Anyway, I really needed his help, so he stayed. Eventually he and Ann buried the hatchet. He kept to himself most of the time anyway. I invited him to eat meals with us at the house, but he preferred his cabin.”

“Then he just left without any notice?”

“No forwarding address either. Nothing. His folks didn’t know a thing when I wrote them. He’d always been so kind to Sophie, and it was tough on her, right on the heels of her mother…” He saw Ann in his mind, weary and sad. He wished he could remember her happier.

“I guess you never really know some people.”

Jim sighed. “I suppose not. He’d always been so dependable. I should be grateful the harvest was almost over, at least.”

“How did he get out of enlisting?”

“He was 4F-ed. Heart murmur.”

Cal chuckled ruefully. “Lucky bastard.”

“Yeah. He didn’t see it that way, of course.” They were silent as a brisk wind blew up, and Jim wondered if Cal struggled as much as he did not to dwell on the memories. After a moment he gathered his courage and asked, “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Being here. Being back. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but sometimes…”

Cal gazed at him, his dark eyes penetrating. “Yeah. Some nights I dream about—” He stopped abruptly.

“What?” Jim’s neck prickled.

“Nah, never mind. We’re here now.” Cal tipped his head back. “I missed Ursa Major over there. The Southern Cross just doesn’t have the same panache. Of course Orion’s bear was something to behold.”

Shaking his head, Jim laughed. “You’re not supposed to remind me.” He winced. “Lord, I was drunk. ”

“You were very certain it was a bear and not a dog. Despite the word ‘canis’ being in the name. Remember that night we convinced Smithy that Centaurus depicted a sexual position?”

Jim grinned at the memory of the boy craning his head to and fro with a furrowed brow. Then another image took hold, and Jim tensed, his smile vanishing.

Cal’s voice was soft. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Jim swallowed hard. “It’s not. How can I stand here laughing—even for a second—after what happened? It’s like I forgot.”

“We’ll never forget. I wonder every day why the hell I’m here and they’re not. Sometimes I close my eyes and all I can see are their faces.”

As the recollections of friends long gone flickered through his mind, Jim nodded. “Me too.”

Cal paused. “And I think of what happened on Okinawa.”

Jim’s stomach roiled now as he was flooded with remorse and images that were forever burned into his mind.

He screwed his eyes shut, his breath hitching and heart suddenly racing as sweat broke out on his forehead.

“Please…I can’t…” It was like a vise had clamped down on his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter. His lungs burned.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. I’m sorry.” Cal wrapped his arm around Jim’s shoulders. “Just breathe.”

Part of Jim wanted to shake Cal off and run until the memories couldn’t catch him anymore.

But he couldn’t resist leaning into Cal just for a moment.

Everything about his friend was so achingly familiar, from his voice to his warm grasp to his faint scent.

After three years of impossibly close quarters during the war, Jim felt like he knew Cal inside and out. Lord, he’d missed him.

Cal squeezed. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “We won’t forget, but we have to move on.”

Taking a deep breath, Jim stepped away and nodded. He cleared his throat, willing his heart rate to slow.

Putting his hands in his pockets, Cal thankfully changed the subject, his tone light. “Think I’ll make a good farmer? ”

As everything returned to normal, the pressure in his chest lifting, Jim managed to smile. “Dunno if you’re cut out for it, but we’ll see.”

“Why, you don’t think I’ve got the look?”

Jim took in Cal’s handsome features—those dark, twinkling eyes and the thick hair. “Well, you don’t look much like a Marine now. I haven’t seen your hair this long since that first night on the train.”

“God, that rickety old train. It was pretty much all downhill from there. You know, that salty old bastard Tyrell never did give me the recipe for grits.”

They both laughed, and Jim felt himself again. “You’re sure your father can spare you until after the harvest? That’s still at least six months away.”

Cal’s smile was sharp. “Don’t worry about my old man. I don’t think we’ll be working together again any time soon.” He snorted. “Not that we ever worked together . I’m through taking orders from him. I’m through taking orders from anybody. Except you, I suppose. You’re the boss.”

“Me? You’re the one who made sergeant.”

“Sergeant.” Cal shook his head. “No one’s called me that in a long time. Guess no one’s called you Johnny Appleseed either.”

Jim shoved Cal playfully with his elbow. “No, and don’t go telling anyone around here that nickname. You know, I think the only person in How Company who actually called me my proper name was you.”

Cal shrugged. “I had to keep you happy or you wouldn’t have shared your rations with me.”

“Have you had any rice since you got back?”

“Not a single grain.” Cal grinned. “They put me off it for life, I think.” He fiddled with his lighter. “Say, it’s awfully dry up here for April, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me. The driest spring in a hundred years. Good thing I had these Rain Birds installed last season.” He pointed down at the ground in the orchard. “Probably can’t see them too well right now.”

Cal squinted. “Little metal nozzles, right? I noticed them earlier. ”

“They feed off the well and spray all the trees. They say it’s just as good as rain, but I still prefer the real thing. Think the trees do too.” He watched a rabbit sniffing around before hopping out of sight.

“Mighty advanced technology you’ve got, Jim Bennett.”

Jim scoffed. “Plenty of farms and orchards are using them now. It was Eddie’s idea, in case we have a dry season. Guess he was onto something. Still early yet.” He took another swig of his beer. “Thanks for coming, Cal. It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to be here.”

“I’ve always been able to count on you.” Jim hadn’t known what he’d feel seeing his old friend again, and he was warm with a sense of relief and optimism. Things were always better when Cal was around. Everything was going to be okay.

Cal shrugged. “Nah, it’s nothing. I could only take so much of London. Got enough rain in the jungle. And Manhattan’s boring as hell these days.”

“Right. The bright lights of Clover Grove are much more your speed.”

“Crazy as this may sound, I think they are.” Looking back up at the sky, Cal smiled, dimples creasing his cheeks.

Feeling warm and secure again, Jim gazed at the distant planets and smiled along.