Chapter 3
The lieutenant led her out the door, down the pathway to the road, past shower stalls where men whistled and waved attracting more attention as they picked up followers like the pied piper. Crowding her body, pushing in closer, bad breath and body odor consuming her, nowhere to run or hide, Paddy’s lips puffed out in a sigh; she waited for the usual questions so predictable that they could have been scripted, her answers perfected over time like a well-rehearsed skit.
“Where y’all from?”
“New York,” Paddy smiled.
“How long will you be here?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What’s going on at home?”
“Nothing much. All the action is over here. But mini skirts are getting shorter.”
The crowd cheered and whooped as expected moving in closer. One marine at the back of the pack grumbled, “What did she say?”
“Stop shoving,” the marine in front of him complained.
“I can’t hear.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“Knock it off you two,” the Lieutenant pointed at the instigators.
“Miss can you speak a bit louder; it’s hard to hear from back here.”
Paddy smiled, aware that she was a novelty since nurses and donut dollies were rare this far north.
“So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? The sun glinted off his shiny Brylcream hair.
Paddy stretched her lips across her teeth playing to the crowd with a caricature smile. “My agent told me I was going to be the next big Hollywood bombshell. You guys know the army. All they heard was bombshell and thought I should be dropped here.” She got the usual big laugh.
“Sis,” a man hollered waving at Paddy. Shielding her eyes from the sun, squinting into the brightness to make out the face that for an instant reminded her of her brother, Paddy was drawn to the lone voice cutting off all questions. He pushed his way to her wrapping his arms around her. “Sis. I was beginning to think you’d never get here.”
Paddy grinned, curious about his next move.
“Come on guys, I haven’t seen her in almost a year. We have catching up to do, personal stuff.”
Some took the hint others needed more convincing. “You know, mom, dad, the relatives; trust me, you’d be bored.” He slapped the Lieutenant on the shoulder, “I’ll take my sister to her tent.”
Paddy nodded. Just to be called sister again felt good. She couldn’t stop smiling. Her brother Christopher was like him, unpredictable, anything for a joke; her prankster gangster brother. She missed that in her life, missed him.
Down to an audience of two marines, he scowled, “Mom said it was cancer,” sending them on their way. He held his hand out for a formal handshake, “Peter; nice to meet you.” She shook his hand, “Paddy.”
To stay under marine radar, Peter got them off the beaten path to skirt behind tents and activities. Camouflaged by an army green, cotton forest, Peter lead the way weaving between trees ducking under T-shirts, socks, underwear and pants hung from branches thicker than leaves on trees. Paddy was elated to be tucked away from the crowd and their questions.
Peter unzipped a tent. “Here you are, home sweet home.” He stepped aside to let her enter. Standing in the doorway with the tent flap clinging to his back he asked, “How would you like a two hour fun-filled date after the show?” When she hesitated, he added, “Or do you prefer the three ring circus?”
It was an easy choice. “I’d love it,” Paddy said.
“It’s a date. I’ll meet you here.”
***
Walking on stage looking out at the audience to the lasso circling, wave of shirts from half-naked marines, Paddy struggled to hear the beat of the Beatles, ‘Penny Lane’ drowned out by cheering shrieks and whistles, to stay on pitch. No one seemed to notice the crackling where the tapes had been scratched or the sound of the generator running as the ocean of bodies swayed in unison the music swelling like the tide when everyone sang the chorus to, ‘Happy Together’ by The Turtles. They were one, back in her world, her brother smiling at her as tangible as the speaker’s vibration thrumming through her limbs. After their last number, ‘Respect, by Aretha Franklin, the applause turned to a plea that wasn’t easily ignored resulting in many encores.
***
With clothes, shoes, make-up and toiletries strewn between three cots in the girl’s tent it looked like they had been there for weeks instead of a few short hours. Picking up her shorts from the floor, shaking the wrinkles out of them, Paddy kicked off her heels. Her mini skirt fell to the floor in a puddle of red as she stepped into her shorts. Embarrassed by the mess, Paddy gathered up her belongings stuffing them into her luggage when she heard Peter at the door.
“Where are we going?” Paddy asked.
“Away from here.”
“Are you sure this is safe?”
“Yeah. If it weren’t I wouldn’t be going. I’m too short to risk anything now.”
“What do you mean?”
“My time’s almost up. I’ll be shipping out soon, so I don’t want to take any chances. Some guys want to hole up when they get short, so nothing can happen. Murphy’s Law, you know. Some guys get a little paranoid. They think Charlie’s out to get them because they know they’re short. It’s like they got a target on their back that says, last chance. With me, I worry that my luck will run out. It’s hard because the shorter you get, the more you think about going back in the world and the harder it gets to concentrate. If you don’t concentrate you’re going to get nailed. And knowing it, makes it harder.”
“And it’s not too far away?”
“Less than a mile. You’ll love it, like being on vacation. I go there every morning for a shower. A lot of us guys do.”
“As long as you’re sure it’s safe.”
“Trust me. The North Vietnamese who cross into the South are packing light and know we have heavy artillery that can easily take them out so they’re trying to sneak past us. That’s why most of our time is spent on reconnaissance. We’re trying to find the bastards, excuse the language.”
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THE BUTCHER'S BILL
AdventureBUTCHER'S BILL is a novel set in 1968 Vietnam during the Tet Offensive. Paddy, a USO entertainer, is thrown into the reality of war when her lone escort is killed. She escapes flying mud bombs and pre-made staked graves to come up against a more dea...