The Lonely War Read Online Free Page A

practice his religion,” he said. “No harm done.”
    Each bystander’s mouth dropped, except Hudson’s, because he gnashed his teeth.
    The chief wagged his head. “This man needs dungarees and dress whites. We can’t have him running around naked. If he threw away his old uniforms, that’s destroying government property.” Ogden spit the charge with such force that the men around him retreated a step.
    Mitchell kept his cool by mentally listing the important tasks he could be doing if the chief wasn’t such a drama hound. He turned to Andrew. “The Pilgrim is too small to carry clothing in the ship’s store. We carry ninety-eight sailors, five officers, and precious little storage room.” He glanced sideways at Ogden. “Chief, take him ashore and have the PX issue him a full complement of gear. We’ll withhold his pay until every last pair of skivvies is paid for in full.”
    Mitchell winked at Andrew again. “And make sure they issue him a Bluejacket’s Manual so he can read about the proper care of government property.”
    “Aye, aye, sir!” Ogden’s smile showed a full set of pearly teeth. Hudson visibly gloated. 
    Mitchell asked if there were any other issues, and the chief shook his head no.
    “Suh, I was wonderin’.” Grady Washington stepped forward. “Why was we issued cots if we have these bunks?”
    Laughter erupted from the men. Mitchell explained. “Sailor, this steel bucket soaks up the sun’s heat all day, and by lights-out these quarters are a hundred and ten degrees of hot, holy hell. In fair weather, the men use cots to sleep on deck. You’ll be thankful for that cot by midnight.”
    Mitchell pointed to Andrew’s pile on the deck. “Chief, see that this is squared away.”
    “Aye, aye, sir!”
     
     
    A NDREW knew that, for any other crewmember, loss of pay meant deprivation of barrooms, brothels, and restaurants on their nights of liberty. The punishment inflicted on him would be devastating to any one of them, but the only things that made an impression on him were those secret winks that Mitchell had shared with him, and, of course, the officer’s unexpected kindness. For the first time since joining the Navy, Andrew had been studied and found acceptable.
    Watching the lieutenant’s fingers stroke the book covers made Andrew feel as if his own face were being caressed. The words “has every right” and “no harm done” rang throughout his consciousness and made his head tingle. And Mitchell was taking something of Andrew’s that was so ingrained and loved by Andrew that it felt as if the officer were taking a sliver of his soul.
    Andrew held himself utterly still, feeling the warmth radiating inside his chest. He had only truly loved two people in his life—Master Jung-Wei, the old monk who had run the boarding school in Saigon, and Clifford Baldrich, his boyhood companion—but he felt something like love blossoming again. If this is indeed love , he thought, it has happened unexpectedly, like a flash of lightning from a bright, blue sky. And for the first time, his love was intensified by the repeating note of sexual longing running through the joyful composition playing in his heart.
    He resisted it, telling himself that it was impossible, that regardless of Mitchell’s understated sexiness and the man’s kindness, he couldn’t possibly love this man he had seen for the first time only an hour ago. But there was no denying the warmth in his chest. What else could it possibly be? What other feeling could crush him so utterly, so beautifully?
    He was smitten, and as he surrendered to it, his entire being transformed: loneliness, fear, loss, all vanished, soaring off into a void. He pictured himself, face nuzzled against that sunburnt cheek, kissing the neck that smelled of sweat and talcum, the officer’s torso pressed against his belly, grinding.
    These images made it clear he could no longer ignore or deny his homosexuality. Accepting his nature brought no