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she laughs like god, her mind's like a diamond lana del rey : carmen
────── ∘°❉°∘ ────── july 14th and 15th, 1942 ────── ∘°❉°∘ ──────
FIRST PLATOON BARRACKS WERE ALREADY ROWDY AND ALIVE. queenie grace shaw walked in and was bombarded with a huge amount of greeting. each man, shiny in their new uniform. two men were playing cards between on a footlocker in the middle of the room. a small crowd of three were crouched around the wireless. the other men littered the beds. one of the men stood up and grinned, bowing comically. "welcome milady." queenie giggled wildly at the man's odd behaviour. he wasn't wearing his garrison cap, and he had fluffy hair and a contagious grin. "shall i show you to your quarters?" "why, thank you good sir!" she played along and the men chuckled. "i'm george. george luz." "queenie shaw." "you here that fellas? queenie!" he pointed to her, and then nodded. they all stared, even the men sat at the radio stared. queenie was beautiful. there was no denying that. she had blonde hair, in a careful bun under her garrison cap, big blue eyes and a smile that could melt butter. her new orleans accent was thick but sweet like sugar paste.
george took her case for her and led her over to a corner bed. "here you go." george pointed to the man on the bed next to her. "that there's—" "roy cobb." cobb nodded at her and made no more effort to talk to her. the radio soothed her and reminded queenie of her living room back at home, her father reading the paper, her mother knitting and queenie just clutching her teacup and enjoying the background noise the wireless would provide. queenie's home life was great, there was nothing wrong with it. she just wanted to get out of there, live her life, so something meaningful, before she was too old. that was the thing that was unusual about queenie. she didn't want to marry at 21 and have five children. she wanted to go out there, see the world. the war was just something extra, she was there to help with. she wasn't going to be modest, she knew she was a goddam excellent nurse. probably a lot more use than the medics. in the army, they tell you you're the medic and you're just that, the medic. queenie had spent years in hospitals.
"so queenie. how was your journey?" george sat on the end of her bed, as she unlaced her boots, floating away from her thoughts. she sighed tiredly and lay back. "long. real long. i hadda go by bus coz the train makes me real travel sick." she pulled a cigarette from her top pocket and offered george one from the carton. he took it, and got out his lighter. that was the unspoken rule, queenie soon learned. you give george a smoke, he lights it. george gives you a smoke, you light it. he leaned over and lit hers, and she mumbled a thank you, before feeling the warm haze in her lungs and sighing it out contentedly. "where you from?" "louisiana." "goddamn! you went through three states by bus?" queenie giggled and nodded. "i got here at about 9:30. i got ma first bus at 5:43am." "jesus. you must be tired." "what about you? where you from?" "providence." "now that's a long way away." "yeah but i didn't go by bus." george smiled and stood up. she nodded, and he left her, sitting back at the radio. roy cobb was also smoking a cigarette, but she didn't think he was inclined to talk. he'd make that clear enough. pulling back the sheets and taking off her jacket, she called out: "i'm goin to sleep." there were murmurs of acknowledgement and the hum of the radio was turned down in consideration. it was that same hum that lulled queenie to sleep.
