A Lasting Love (13 page)

"Would you like some punch?" she ventured.

The woman stared at Loren with dark, unblinking eyes
for a long moment, and Loren tried again. "Let me bring you
something to drink."

The old woman gave her a slight nod.

Loren returned a few minutes later with a small tray
laden with drinks for them both, plus a variety of sandwiches and
cookies. Together the two women ate and drank quietly. Loren
finally introduced herself and the old woman did the same. Her
voice was cracked with age, but there was an underlying strength of
character that emerged as she spoke.

"I am Emmaline Walker."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Walker. Are you from
Arizona?"

She nodded solemnly. "I travel from Bisbee."

Loren had no idea of the location of the town. "Is
that near Tucson?" she asked hopefully.

Emmaline Walker nodded. "Southeast."

Loren found it difficult to talk to the woman, who
spoke in abbreviated, heavily accented syllables. "So you traveled
from Arizona to receive this award in honor of your son? You must
be very proud of him."

The woman shook her head slowly. "I did not travel
this way just to get a star of silver to honor my son."

“
No? Then why did you come here Mrs.
Walker?"

"My granddaughter, she sends me to talk to someone
about what they call 'benefits.' But no one will listen. The men,
not interested." She stopped and waggled her old, wrinkled hand
toward the politicians who stood talking earnestly about their own
interests, Reid among them. "The men are too busy with important
things to listen to this old woman. So I return with only this
silver, which is nothing for the life of my son. But benefits will
not bring him back either." She sighed heavily.

"What benefits?" Loren was curious and leaned closer
to catch each broken phrase.

"None."

Loren paused. "None? You mean the benefits stopped
coming?"

The old woman spoke slowly. "The benefits not come at
all."

Loren stopped in mid-bite. "Are you saying that you
never received military benefits after your son's death? No monthly
checks? No insurance money?"

The old woman blinked and nodded placidly. "None. And
my granddaughter says I should get benefits from the government
because of this. Because he is now gone from us."

Loren sat up straight, realizing that she must gather
more facts before taking any action. But this was definitely her
kind of action. "Mrs. Walker, did your son die in the war? Was he
killed in battle?"

"No fighter. Benjamin was smart. He was code talker."
Her voice was proud.

"Tell me about him. Please. I'll listen to your
story, Mrs. Walker. Maybe I can help."

The old woman turned to look into Loren’s eyes. "But
you are only a woman, too. How can you help?"

Loren knotted inside at the woman’s words, and if
they had come from anyone else, she would have jumped to her feet
and defended every inch of her femininity. Instead, she clamped her
jaws and explained patiently, "I am a lawyer and I know about the
laws that deal with the benefits you're supposed to receive. I
think I can help you."

"Anglo laws?"

Loren nodded. "Yes. Our English laws. Please tell me
about your son. What was his name?" She scrambled in her purse for
a pen and scrap of paper, writing furiously as the old Navajo woman
related her tale.

Her son was only eighteen when he was selected to be
a marine from a boarding school in Shiprock, New Mexico. The group
of intelligent young men was chosen specifically to be trained in
the highly complicated code using the Navajo language. By the time
he had finished communications training at Camp Pendleton, he was
all of nineteen. He was shipped to the South Pacific without a
visit home and, in the fall of 1943, Mrs. Walker was notified of
his death on a faraway beach called Saipan.

"Didn't you know that you should receive military
benefits after the death of your son?" Loren asked gently.

Emmaline Walker shrugged. "My husband was very
bitter. Angry with the federal government. He did not want any
money for our son’s life. Soon we moved to Bisbee so he could work
in the copper mine there. Now my husband is gone, too. My
granddaughter says I should have benefits."

Loren nodded thoughtfully. "I'm sure there was an
insurance policy issued on your son. It's not much, but . . ." She
looked into the dark, sad eyes of the old woman and knew that even
a small amount of money would help her. Pride had prevented her
from any mention of money, preferring to call it benefits, and
Loren understood.

"Loren? There you are." Reid's voice broke into the
women's privacy.

Loren looked up, suddenly aware that she and Emmaline
Walker had been lost in the tragic story of Benjamin Walker, young
Navajo code talker and hero, and the unspoken tale of his mother's
poverty.

"Reid." Loren smiled. "I want you to meet my new
friend, Emmaline Walker. She’s from Bisbee, Arizona. Mrs. Walker,
this is my friend, Reid Mecina. He lives in Tucson. His father was
a senator."

The old woman nodded politely to him, but didn't
speak, didn’t make eye contact.

Loren attempted to explain her concerns for the woman
beside her. "Mrs. Walker tells me the tragic story about her son,
Benjamin, who was a Navajo code talker. He didn't return from the
battle at Saipan, and she never received his military
insurance."

Reid stooped beside the bent old woman and took her
weathered hand in his. "I'm sorry to hear about your brave son,
Mrs. Walker. But there must be something we can do about that
insurance. Let's talk to your congressman. He's here today." Reid
gestured toward a well-dressed white-haired man who was conferring
with a group of Navajo men.

Stubbornly she shook her head. "No more talking
today. I try to tell my story to them." She aimed her wrinkled hand
vaguely. "But they did not want to hear old woman. This lady with
blue eyes is only one who listens."

Reid smiled proudly at Loren. "Mrs. Walker, this lady
is a lawyer. And if anyone can help you, she can."

Emmaline Walker nodded solemnly, accepting his words
as fact. She showed neither elation nor hope, her face remaining
placid. "I am ready to go now." She pointed toward the gathering of
her associates, who were boarding a chartered bus for the journey
back to their hotel.

Loren raised her eyebrows at Reid, then decided to
make the offer anyway. "Let us take you back to your hotel, Mrs.
Walker. Reid?"

"Of course. We'd love to. Give me a few minutes to
get the car." He headed across the garden, stopping along the way
to speak to the bus driver, informing him of their intentions to
escort Emmaline Walker to the hotel.

After discovering that Mrs. Walker had foregone the
scheduled all-day tour of Washington, Reid drove her around the
Mall and Capitol. They paused where the woman showed special
interest—the colorful flower gardens and formal shrubbery, which
were rarities in her near-desert world. She was enthralled by the
common sight of the large oak trees and magnolias, and delighted
Loren with her honest appreciation.

As they pulled in front of Mrs. Walker's hotel, Loren
pressed her card into Emmaline's hand. "This card has my name and
phone number on it. If you can think of anything else to tell me
about your son, please call me. I will be back in touch with you,
Mrs. Walker. And we'll do something about your benefits, I
promise." She smiled reassuringly.

The old woman ran her finger over the embossed
letters on the card. "Thank you for hearing an old woman's
story."

Reid opened the car door.

Before she accepted his assistance, Mrs. Walker
pressed a small box into Loren's hands. "I cannot pay you, but
here. This is yours, for listening. And trying to help me. Now my
granddaughter will be happy."

"Thank you," Loren mumbled as the woman took Reid's
arm. "I'll get right to work on this." Absently she gazed down and
opened the box in her hands. A painful exclamation escaped her
opened mouth, for there lay the gleaming Silver Star award. "Oh,
no. I can't—" Her blue-violet eyes glistened, and she scrambled
after Mrs. Walker.

However, Reid stopped her, placing his hand on her
arm and pushing her gently away.

"But, Reid—" she protested.

His dark eyes met hers, and he shook his head, then
turned his full attention to Emmaline Walker, who hadn't even
noticed Loren's approach.

Loren watched helplessly as they walked slowly away
from her. Reid's strong arm offered able assistance to a proud but
aged Navajo woman. It was a beautiful sight. She turned her sad
gaze back to the gift in her hand and salty tears dropped on the
Silver Star.

When Reid returned to the car Loren had wiped the
shiny metal clean. She was clearly upset about the gift and with
Reid, besieging him immediately. "Why didn't you let me return
this? Do you know that she gave me her award? Why would she do such
a thing? I can't keep this! You know I can't keep this Silver Star
that was given for her son's bravery." Tears filled her eyes, and
Loren felt very close to losing all control.

Reid's arms encircled her shoulders, and she felt his
warm understanding and compassion. This was something she had
needed at times from Mark, but had never received. Reid's voice
vibrated through her. "I know, I know, Loren, honey. Mrs. Walker
put you in a difficult spot. But you've got to understand this
situation from her perspective."

"And you do?" Loren sputtered.

"Not completely," he hedged. "But I can tell
you it would have been an insult to return the gift to her right
now. You see, many of the older
Navajos
still believe that any reminder of a
person who has died is taboo. Therefore, she looks at this award
differently from the way you and I do. So it wasn't anything more
than a silver gift to you, someone who showed her kindness. She
gave it in good faith."

"But, Reid, I can't keep this," Loren protested
again.

His hand caressed her cheek. "Maybe we can return it
to her family someday. I'm sure her daughters would value it."

Loren blinked, trying to understand this woman who
was so different from her. "I emphasize with Emmaline Walker.
Caught between two cultures in a typical government snafu, and no
one would listen to her."

"Loren, you're amazing," Reid said quietly. "In that
whole group of people today, there was one woman who needed you,
and you managed to find her. I'm proud of you."

She smiled wanly, feeling better with Reid beside
her, giving the support she needed. Shrugging, Loren admitted, "It
just happened. I really wasn't looking for her, or anyone in
particular. Actually Mrs. Walker had given up on finding anyone who
could help. When she said that the men wouldn't listen to her, my
ears perked up."

Reid kissed her lips quickly, then started the car.
"You're wonderful. I can tell you’ve found your niche."

“
Just so you know, I didn’t find anything. I
have worked very hard for my career and my niche, as you call it.
The journey was not easy. And I don't intend to give it
up."

Her words echoed in the close quarters of the car,
and they drove on in silence. Loren wondered why she had said such
a thing.

Reid pressed his lips together, pondering her words,
knowing the inherent difficulties they represented.

Chapter Seven

Reid's rented car sped along the highway as he
crossed the river and drove north into Maryland. The lush foliage
on either side formed an avenue of deep green of a richness Reid
had forgotten in the years since he had been there. The fresh,
moist fragrance filled his nostrils and seemed to pervade his
entire body, stirring dormant emotions. The heavy growth of trees,
the thick green vines growing wildly, the humid, briny air off the
bay, the times with Loren, all filled his memory with excitement.
He was meeting her today in one of their old favorite haunts. He
could hardly wait to see her again. It had been two weeks since
their last time together. It felt like eons.

Reid wheeled off the main highway, and after several
miles turned again onto the small road that seemed to head back in
time. Its narrowness was emphasized by huge water oaks that
tunneled the old road. He could smell a definite saltiness in the
air now as he neared his destination.

Then he spotted it. The small shanty was seemingly a
hundred years behind the times, and a hundred miles from anywhere.
It had been a wonderful place to escape to, years ago, when only
the two of them in the world mattered. Now both their lives were
much more complex.

Reid pulled to a stop in front of the place and
smiled faintly at the weathered plank nailed over the doorway,
claiming simply
restaurant.
Loren's car
was already here, and he knew where to find her. He inhaled the
damp, salty air and something kindled inside him. Reid knew he had
to have her again, and he couldn't leave her this time. With long
strides he avoided the front door, heading knowingly around to the
back, to the small balcony porch that over- looked the
inlet.

When he saw her, Reid's heart pounded at the sight of
Loren, sitting alone at the crude wooden table, looking out over
the rippling water. He was filled with love and longing for her
that six years and worlds of differences had not been able to
obliterate.

"Why don't we skip lunch and go someplace secluded,"
he murmured against her ear, his hot breath tickling her neck.

"Hmmm, what a romantic idea." She turned to him with
a happy smile. Their eyes locked for a moment in time and their
love was obvious.

Her hands reached up to caress his face and pull it
possessively toward hers. Loren kissed him gently and lovingly.
"Isn't this secluded enough for you? I wondered if you would even
remember how to get here. It's been so long."