Becca (22 page)

When Bert gently brushed
her hand aside, Becca grabbed his shirt and with what little strength she had,
pulled him to her. They embraced fiercely and kissed.

“Oh my God,” she said,
when their lips parted. “What am I going to do? Really…this is serious.
”

“Get well, Becca,” Josh
said. “
Get well.”

I

Bert saw Carol’s smiling
face when he walked into the terminal. He half expected to see Becca with her
and knew that if she were able to be there she would be. She had written to him
constantly, and a photograph enclosed with one of her letters showed her
looking happy on the day her cast came off. Although Bert wanted to see Becca
immediately, she had written him that he should spend time with his mother
first before coming to see her.

“Oh my goodness you look
so wonderful,” Carol said, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand. “I think
you’ve gained weight, Bert. But, oh, they took your hair.”

“It’ll grow back,” he
said, smiling.

“I’m glad things are
going so well for you.”

“Better than I expected.”

She did not ask the
question he knew she wanted to ask, so Bert said, “I don’t have any idea where
I’m going after training.” That was not completely true. He had been selected
for non-commissioned officer training, and virtually all of the graduates went
to Vietnam.

“You’re not going to be
here long, honey only two weeks?”

“If it wasn’t for
Christmas, I probably wouldn’t have come home at all before my advance training
started.”

While they waited for his
duffle bag in baggage claim, Bert and Carol discussed his training experience
and Army life in general. His mind was on Becca, however, and before he left
the airport, he called her.

“Hey, soldier,” Becca
said cheerfully.

“Becca, you sound great.”

“I
am
great. Well,
not great maybe, but I feel a helluva lot better than the last time we were
together. I wanna see you right away, Josh, but you need to spend time with
your mom. Why don’t you call me this evening and we’ll get together and do
nothing—sound like a plan? Or would you rather I wait to tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding? See you
tonight.”

“Good. Now, soldier, I’m
ordering you to spend time with your mom and don’t think about me for a while.
I
know
that’s a lot to ask for—perhaps it’s impossible—but you need to
put me in the back of your mind. Okay?

“Roger.”

“No, the name’s Becca.
Holy cow, who’s Roger?” Becca chuckled. “Go home. Talk to you later.”

But Becca did not wait
for him to call her. Soon after Bert got home, the phone rang.

“Hello, soldier, looking
for a hot time?” Becca’s voice was one of controlled excitement.

“Hi, Becca.”

“That’s all you can say
is hi Becca?”

“How are you, Becca?”

“Shut up, Josh.” Becca
giggled. “Or should I say Private Martin? I don’t like the sound of that,
actually.

“Josh will do.”

“Change of plans,
soldier. I want to see you right away.”

“I’m taking my mom to
dinner. Let’s get together right after.”

“What time?”

“Why don’t we say
nineteen hundred?”

“English please.”

“Seven o’clock.”

“Good, I’ll see you then.”

II

Becca arrived punctually.

“Hi, Carol,” she said.

“Oh, honey, how are you? Come
in.”

Becca stepped through the
door and her appearance startled Bert. Though pale and gaunt, she wore her magical
smile that brightened her eyes and wrinkled her nose.

“Okay, I know, I look
like hell,” she said, staring at Bert. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t give me
a kiss.”

He went to her and
embraced her. She felt fragile. They kissed quickly and then Becca held him at
arm’s length. “My oh my, Josh,” she said, smiling and looking at him from head
to toe, “the Army agrees with you.” She rubbed her hand on his head. “Except
where’s your hair?”

“Swept into the trash
long ago.”

“I don’t know why they
take your hair.”

“Why not, they take
everything else.”

“Where’s your uniform?”

“I’m on leave, I don’t
need it.”

“I wanted to see you in
it.”

“Some other day.”

“Carol, I want to borrow
him for a while, is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll bring him back.”

Becca handed Bert the
keys as they walked out to the car. She walked with a limp, holding his hand,
not so much out of affection as it was to steady herself. Bert helped her into
the car and started the engine. “Where’re we going?” he asked

“Our favorite restaurant.”

“I just ate.”

“Smart ass. I know that. We’re
having coffee.”

Becca asked him a series
of questions about his training and brought him up to date about Greg—who was
leaving after the holidays to start UCLA in the spring semester.

They managed to get the same
booth they had the first time they had come here together.

Becca told the waitress, “I’ll
have coffee and the soldier—that explains the goofy hair—will have a Coke?
Right, Josh?”

“That’s it,” Bert said.

After the waitress left,
Becca said, “You still don’t drink coffee?”

“Nope.”

“I thought there was a
law or something where soldiers had to drink coffee, smoke, swear, and screw. Isn’t
that right?”

“I don’t drink coffee, swear,
or smoke.”

“That’s really funny.”

Bert felt a tug of pity
and the bitterness of fear choked him. Becca did not look well. Even her hair,
tied back in a ponytail, had lost its luster.

“Please don’t stare at
me, Josh,” Becca said. “I know I look a sight but I was in a hurry to see you.”

He pulled his eyes from
her and stared out at the parking lot. He thought about the first time they had
come here. It hadn’t been that long ago, but so much had changed.

They shared a couple of
minutes of silence and when the waitress brought them their order, Becca said,
“Okay…so we’re just so happy to see each other that we’ve spent like five
minutes not talking. Have we lost it already, Josh” She sipped her coffee.

“Perhaps we’re just
overwhelmed.”

Becca snickered. “Yeah,
overwhelmed. So, Josh…tell me the truth…what’s happening next?”

“I’m going to the NCO academy.”

“Yeah, you told me, and
when you graduate you’ll be a sergeant? That means you’ll be saluted and stuff
like that.”

“Sergeants don’t get
saluted.”

“No? Then what’s the big
deal of being a sergeant?”

“I’ll be a leader of
men.”

“Ah, I guess that’s cool
for a guy. And where is it that you’re going to do this leading?”

“I don’t know.”

“Liar.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can see it on your
face, Josh. You’re not telling me something.”

“Really, I don’t have
anything I’m not telling you.”

“Why don’t I believe
you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re going over there,
aren’t you. Over to the war.”

“It’s not a sure thing.”

“But what do you think…no
bullshit now.”

“I…don’t know if I’m
going to Vietnam.”

“Bullshit.” She took
another sip of her coffee and set the cup down hard enough to rattle the spoon.

“Becca…” Bert took her
hands in his and Becca sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry, Josh. That
was so stupid of me. I…I’m not like this…bitter…it’s just that I’m pissed off
about stuff, you know what I mean?” She picked up her purse. “Let’s go.”

Bert dropped money on the
table and walked with her out into the parking lot. In the car, Becca turned on
the heat full blast and shivered in her heavy coat.

“I seem to have chill,”
she said.

“Becca, what’s wrong.”

“Just drive, Josh.”

With Becca’s directions,
they ended up at the hatchet man.

“It seems full tonight,”
Bert said as he pulled into the parking area.

“I don’t care. There’s a
spot.”

Three cars occupied the
parking area. They appeared empty, except for the steamed windows. Bert carefully
maneuvered the Mustang next to a tree, the branches of which scraped against
the car’s roof. He turned off the headlights but kept the engine running.

“We should have gotten
gas,” he said. “You’ve got a quarter tank.”

Becca opened her door. “Don’t
move.”She climbed out of the car, then turned and pushed her seat forward and
climbed into the back seat. “Get back here,” she said, wrapping her coat around
her and shivering.

Bert tried climbing
between the seats, but that only resulted in giggles from Becca when the seat
foiled his progress. He laughed then followed her example of getting out of the
car and then getting back in.

There was barely room for
the two of them in the back seat. Even with the front seats pushed forward.

Becca was leaning against
the side of the car. Bert could not see her face, but he felt her eyes on him. Her
perfume wafted over him. Her hand sought his. It was icy cold, soft, and he
squeezed it gently.

“So,” she said, “here we
are.”

“In the back seat of your
Mustang.”

“Yes.”

Bert pulled her toward
him. She came willingly and shivered when he put his arm around her. Her hand
slipped from his and she slid it around his waist, her fingers taking baby
steps against his shirt. Her frail body shook and he wanted to increase the
pressure of his hold, but she seemed too fragile to stand it. Her hair tickled
his chin. Her face, buried against his chest, moved and her teeth chattered.

“I’m so cold,” she said.

“No shit.”

“Hey, no Army talk here,
buddy. You’re with a lady.”

“What kind of a lady would
force a man to take her to a lover’s lane and then force him into the back seat
of her car? Huh? You tell me what lady would do that.”

“I guess you’re right. Swear.
Say fuck…it turns me on.” She giggled and pushed herself against him.

“Becca, what’re we
doing?”

“Well, we’re in the back
seat of my car. What
should
we be doing?”

“My first answer would be
that we would be messing around, but there’s not enough room back here to do
much of anything.”

“There’s a lot we can do.
And just so we’re perfectly clear on this, we’re taking advantage of each other
okay? Do you have a problem with that soldier?”

“No ma’am.”

Becca’s hand took his and
moved it to her breast; her hand pushed against his as if trying to stamp the
impression of her breast against his palm. She was not wearing a bra, and the
soft sponginess throbbed with his touch. Bert felt her breath on his face, and
then her open mouth cut off the word he was going to speak. Her hand left his
and went around his neck, pulling him against her. She curled the fingers of
her right hand into a fist and pushed against the small of his back, forcing
him against her. He found her nipple and gave it a gentle squeeze through her
blouse. She moaned, took her mouth from his, and pushed up her sweater and
blouse. His hand slipped inside. The hot softness of her flesh yielded to his
touch and she shivered and attacked his mouth again as his hand found the
hotness of her breast and rubbed the nub of her nipple against his thumb and
forefinger. Becca moaned and gyrated, and she put a hand on him and sought his
hardness. She palmed it, pressing against it as if trying to keep in from
moving and it was Bert’s turn to moan. His hands went from her nipples and
slipped around her back, and brushed her flesh with his fingertips then moved
to the waistband of her pants and found the zipper. He maneuvered it down as
Becca sought his zipper. In the heat of their passion, she still shivered,
almost uncontrollably, and then winced in pain.

“What’s wrong, Becca?”

“My leg…goddammit. It’s
like an electric shock. Oh, Josh…I’m so sorry.”

Bert adjusted his
trousers.

“You’re putting it away?”
Becca asked. “Give me a minute.”

“Becca,” Bert said,
reaching for her and pulling her against him—not in passion, but protectively. “What’s
wrong?”

“You tell me first,” she
said, her arms going around him again, searching for the warmth of his body. She
shivered.

“Tell you what?”

“What you don’t want to
tell me.”

“I don’t know what you’re
talking about.”

“Tell me you aren’t going
to war, Bert. Tell me you’re
not
going to Vietnam.”

He paused and sighed
before he answered. “I am. My whole class is going.”

She nodded. “I
knew
it. God, I
knew
it. I prayed for you, Josh. I
prayed
that you
wouldn’t go and now you telling me you are. Goddammit. You know? Just goddammit.”
She sighed heavily. “Have you prayed for me, Josh?”