Nalani

"Of course! I'd be crazy not to! You're pretty, you're smart, you're kind... and you're a witch, hi hi! What more could a man want? Come with me..."

She took his hand and followed him. She knew, right then and there, that she would follow him absolutely anywhere.

They sneaked around and had to avoid a patrolling MP, sign that military life was about to resume on the aerodrome. Ezekiel resumed their surreal discussion while brushing his teeth and washing his mouth. "So, my dear Lehuanani, do you intend to eat my heart?"

She scoffed good-naturedly. "Nooo, Ziki... but I could read your aura if you want!"

He was enjoying this. "Realllyyy?"

She took his reply as a mock challenge and quickly went outside to pick up grass strands. She placed them on the ground and motioned him near her. "Lend me your lighter, please..." he did. She briefly interrupted her ritual. "I did not see you smoke... why do you have a lighter?"

"In case I need to start a fire or destroy written codes." He was obviously being truthful. She lit up the grass strands which quickly burned, and burned quite intensely. Ezekiel also recognized the aroma from their first encounter.

Lehuanani could see the apprehension on Ezekiel's face. "Kunai grass burns quickly: it is how God chose to spread wildfires. But there is no need to worry. The Kunai smoke reveals Masalai for those who know how to look and also helps repelling them."

"I should warn our engineers and we should have that grass removed... it's all around our planes, the fuel, the ammo..."

"It would be a wasted effort: Kunai grass is always first to grow back. It is also how God chose to renew the jungle."

"If you say so... what's a Masalai?"

"An evil spirit."

"But of course."

"Sit still and relax, please."

He did so with a joyful smile. She was pulling all the stops and he was being thoroughly entertained: she inspected his irises, scanned the palms of his hands and then waved Kunai smoke all around him. Ezekiel was now expecting her to chant.

"How strange... you seemed to be marked by the number two." Lehuanani was seemingly interpreting her reading with difficulty.

Ezekiel played along. "Well... Lehuanani, the fact is that I was born on a 22 February."

"This is different. You have an aura that is extremely pure, Ziki. No Masalai has any hold on you. Your life will be long and healthy. You will even fall from very high without hurting yourself; and this will happen twice."

"Thank you... that's reassuring." He was obviously humoring her but she took no heed of it.

"Your eyes see far... but your heart is almost blind. It does not realize that what you seek the most is, in fact, already yours."

"I see."

"Your heart is blind in part because it shines so bright. You hate the war very much; yet you will be thankful for it, twice."

"Huh huh... anything else?" Now he openly doubted her, yet he did not want their date to end on a sour note.

"I need to go."

"You can tell that from my aura?"

"No, Ziki... the patrolman is walking nearby!" Lehuanani was working hard at not being annoyed.

"I see, hi hi! I'm sorry for being such a tease; thank you for my... reading." Ezekiel stood up and realized that he was now free from the stupor of his first drinks. "Do you want to use my bicycle to return home? I'll retrieve it tomorrow."

"I do not know how to ride a bicycle, Ziki... would you please walk me home?"

"Of course... but I have a better idea." Both of them exited the barracks and waved goodnight to the MP. "I'm about to take her home and I'll return before lights out." When the patrol officer just strolled by in silence, Ezekiel fetched his bicycle. "Here... you sit... and hold my waist while I pedal. When next we meet, I'll teach you how to ride, OK?"

She silently acquiesced.

The overloaded bicycle was designed for solidity, not performance; Ezekiel, standing upright on it, pedaled hard for little speed in return. However, Lehuanani was thrilled to hug his lean and muscled waist and Ezekiel was feeling the soft exciting contact of her breasts and nipples once more, this time on his back. Neither were in any rush to end this voyage home.

Except that, in the end, their first kiss good night made it all worthwhile...

3.- Trial by Combat

For many years after the war, Ezekiel had kept on reading about stress, shell-shocked soldiers and the dehumanizing effect of modern warfare. It was a self-healing burden that he wished to carry by himself. He never spoke of it to his wife and children and had concluded early on that his rite of passage from wonderstruck youth to man and professional killer had spanned over a continuous period of thirty days that began on 23 July 1943.

On that morning, the Headhunters were readying themselves for a low-level escort of A-20s on a shipping strike, in the Madang area.

"Clipper leader to all flights, final check before the trip."

"Yellow one, I'm out."

"Red two, I'm out."

"Red three, I'm out."

"Blue four, I'm out."

"Roger that. Clipper, reform and follow me."

Ezekiel was almost breaking right out of habit when he suddenly realized four P-38s were calling out today; he was needed! Today was the day he would taste combat for the first time and he would do it as the wingman of... lieutenant no-first-name Russell, a pedantic Ivy League patrician.

(Oh well... beggars can't be choosers!)

That first rush waned rather rapidly, however, as Ezekiel was finding out that station keeping in a combat environment, over mountains and in a turbulent sky, was strenuous work. With one hand always fidgeting the twin-throttle, the other on the yoke and a constant eye on his lead element's wingtip, he was already unsure about his navigation and doubtful he would be able to scan the skies for flying foes. Moreover, as Madang was a relatively close-by target, about 300 mi. to the North-West and over the Owen Stanley range, Ezekiel knew that a long loiter time over the target was expected of the Headhunters today. If things got rough, they were expected to fight it out.

"Clipper Green three to Clipper Leader, bogeys at ten o'clock low, climbing hard." Ezekiel could now spare an eye to follow the specks moving in for the fight. Just as he had been briefed to expect, the Japanese were rushing late to battle because of their reliance on visual detection. For an instant, Ezekiel wondered how it must be over Europe, where radar-guided squadrons of Huns could always bounce you upsun with lethal precision and others with full fuel tanks could bide their time and strike down any straying or damaged aircraft. Only for an instant, though, as he was now taking his place in the fluid four combat formation of the Clipper blue flight.

He quickly recognized the round wings with extra-large ailerons and the very slender tail section of his adversaries: today he would be fighting Oscars, the lesser-known army kin of the Zero. In this initial phase of the fight, Ezekiel just kept an eye on the growing silhouettes in the sky and kept both ears focused for the order to fight. He saw six shotai of three Oscars, so two squadrons if the intelligence reports were correct. That also meant there could be one or two more on the prowl somewhere, if the Japanese had committed an entire sentai into the battle.

Either the Japanese pilots did not see the P-38s overhead or they figured they had enough time for a quick high-speed pass at the attack bombers; in any case, they turned and sped away from the Headhunters.

(Come ooon, Porky! Give the word!)

"Clipper leader to clipper green, yellow and red, punch your babies and let's go. Clipper blue stay on top cover."

So the decision was taken: twelve P-38s to break up the Oscars and four to keep the sky clear.

(Porky must really be pissed at them for ignoring him! Those poor Japs don't have a prayer!)

Ezekiel watched with professional interest his first aerial engagement. Porky was leading his packs in a gentle diving turn that would allow the P-38s to intercept the Oscars with the speed of... lightning: if they do not break their attack run, at least half of the Oscars will be shot down before firing their first round. However, they had seen the threat and were now all making sharp turns to get into the fray with the escort fighters.

(Geez... look at those turns!)

Ezekiel was processing and learning fast. The Oscar - even more than the Zero - was the epitome of the light and maneuverable fighter. At these low altitude and speeds, that aircraft was nimble as a sparrow in the hands of a competent pilot.

Now the P-38 flights were also breaking up for combat, with Porky and his green flight naturally in the thick of it.

"Blue one to Clipper blue, bogeys at four o'clock high. More Oscars. Punch your babies and follow me."

Startled, Ezekiel felt guilt for not having scanned the sky properly. But he quickly shook off the feeling with adrenaline: now was the time to fight. Drop tanks away, full throttle, small pitch, guns unlocked: Femme Fatale was all set. Now all Ezekiel needed was the game plan for their four-against-nine match.

"Blue one to Blue three. Stay high. I'm going for them."

(That was easy...)

Ezekiel and Lt. Russell were now the sole watchers of the sky and Ezekiel, conscious of that fact, was furiously scanning in all directions.

Ezekiel's sight was now filled with fast-moving aircraft and his radio was saturated with the short staccato of men in mortal combat. Some of the Oscars were seen flaming down; no parachutes. Then he saw something else.

"Blue four to blue three: two o'clock low, three Oscars diving at the bombers." A shotai of Oscars had evaded the fighters' duel and were positioning themselves to massacre the bombers once they would be climbing out of their bomb run.

By now, the A-20s were skimming the waves and were preparing for either skip or masthead bombing. Ezekiel could see flickers of light stemming from the ships' AA fire or, possibly, from the A-20 nose guns strafing at it. Moments later, Ezekiel's focus was split between his leader, who was silently maneuvering for interception, and between violent and very colorful explosions on the water.

(Those cargo ships must have been carrying fuel and munitions... no wonder their safe passage was heavily defended!)

It was then that one of the three Oscars they were giving chase suddenly banked hard right and just kept on turning even though they were closing in quickly. Ezekiel, amazed, pieced the 3D puzzle instantly: he was turning tight enough to bring himself into firing position behind them.

"Blue four to blue three, break... Oscar almost on our tail." Ezekiel now was almost splitting his eyes between his oblivious leader and the turning fighter now closing in on their right aft.

"Blue three, break!" No change: Lt. Russell was busy opening fire on the pair of Oscars in front of him.

One of the banes of being light and maneuverable, from a combat perspective, was that the armament and armor of the Oscar were light to non-existent. Yet, Ezekiel did not intend to test his aircraft's resistance to the fire of two .50cal machineguns; or his own, for that matter.

"RUSSELL, FOR GOD'S SAKE, MOVE YOUR DUMB ASS HIGH AND LEFT NNNOWWW!!!"

This time, there was a reaction to the warning. The lead Oscar of the shotai was trailing smoke and entering a spiral dive, the other one began a barrel roll to the right; the lead P-38, as instructed, veered to the left and began a steep climb. Ezekiel, for his part, chopped his throttles and performed a left sideslip: that succeeded in spitting out ahead the Oscar that was behind him. Still, Ezekiel cursed in worry.

(Sweet Jesus... I'm too far back!)

Ezekiel had lost too much speed and was now powerless to prevent the third Oscar from climbing after Russell. He slammed the throttles to maximum and was hoping to bring himself in firing position. As he felt this wasn't going to happen fast enough, he fired his machineguns at extreme range in desperation.

The two surviving Oscars then swiftly broke hard right and disengaged from the air battle.

(Thank you, God...)

"Clipper leader to clipper, reform on me for egress cover. Good job, Headhunters!" As if the entire menagerie of fighters suddenly realized that the engagement had become moot, both air forces went their separate ways, leaving three floating wrecks to burn in Astrolabe Bay. The A-20s were already out of their bombing runs and heading for home and supper.

Ezekiel took a quick stock of his situation: both plane and pilot were sound and there was plenty of gas left. Now he could feel the thumping of his heart in his chest and feel the wetness all over his body. Even though he was flying in t-shirt and shorts - as was customary in a P-38 on a low-level mission in the Pacific - Ezekiel realized he was drenched in sweat. His neck was sore from constantly twisting around. Then, and only then, the thrill of victory gently washed all else away: Fifth Air Force had smashed a supply convoy, won aerial victories and the Headhunters were now all flying homeward and in formation.

---

"Look... are those actual hits?"

"Yup... I believe they are..." both Major Cragg and the Intelligence Officer were viewing Femme Fatale's gun cameras with Ezekiel; he was unsure whether he was about to be congratulated or scolded.

"Ziki, that was some shot... at that range and that deflection... wow! It's a shame you couldn't finish him off."

"Sir, I..."

"Yea yea, I know, Ziki... you stayed with your lead. And scissoring with an Oscar like that takes guts. You'll get better at it. Just be careful though, you saw how quickly these bastards can reverse you at low speed?"

"Yesss, sir!"

"You sure you don't want a sip?" The IO was offering Ezekiel his share of the mission whiskey.

"No thank you, sir... that won't do me no good."

Porky had a booming laugh. "Yea, Stan... not a good idea!!!" He then looked back at Ezekiel mockingly and winked. "Look... just don't go out for too long, OK Ziki? We're still on the board for tomorrow. Dismissed."

He saluted and smartly walked out of the briefing room, only to be met outside by Lt. Russell.

"Sir?"

The lieutenant was contrite. "Huh... look Molina... thanks. You probably saved my life today."

Ezekiel could not bring himself to call it a pleasure. "That's the job, sir."

"Yea... well... the next time you need me to move my dumb ass quickly, call me Jim."

"I will, sir." Ezekiel was feeling his second wave of triumphant glee in less than two hours.

"Thanks again, Molina... see you tomorrow."

---

Ezekiel had just finished recounting his first aerial fight, complete with vocal sound effects and hand gestures to illustrate the maneuvers. Lehuanani was completely absorbed. "So... how was your day, sweetie?"

She was so flustered that, in fact, Lehuanani had forgotten all about most of her last hours. "Huh... nothing special, Ziki. Thanks again for taking me here... are you sure we will remain undisturbed?"

"Positive. I've been scouting this place since the dance. It looks like a field gun emplacement ready to be manned in case of invasion. Either the gun was taken to some other battle or it was never installed in the first place, but I'm pretty sure that we have this place to ourselves... that is, of course, discounting the local wildlife."

"This is nice." Lehuanani gently kissed Ezekiel on his lips, a chaste kiss but still ever so soft. They were now both watching the sunset. "When do you have to return to the airfield?"

"We're on the board again... I think Porky let me slip out as a favor because of my first fight today. Besides, since I ride a bike, I don't drink and I'm a flying sergeant, my absence is not really noticed at the officers' mess."

"Lucky me." She kissed him again. "What have you got in there?" She was pointing at a small bag he had insisted on carrying with them. "Food?"

"Nope... I thought this would be appropriate with the scenery." He produced a small lute. "This, my darling Lehuanani, is a Puerto-Rican cuatro. It was my Dad's and he gave it to me when I left home to enlist. Mind you, since cuatro means four in Spanish, I have no idea why this instrument has ten strings! Dad used to write to his relatives and send money to receive records from his favorite player, Ladislao Martinez. And every time he received one, we listened and we practiced."

He started playing with no hesitation and with feeling. The instrument had a rich, full sound and Ezekiel was right: the bittersweet melody was a perfect match to the spectacular sunset. Lehuanani lost a little more of her heart to him; she had not thought that possible.

Ezekiel played three short ballads back to back before pausing to let Lehuanani show her appreciation. "That was beautiful, Ziki..."

"Thank you... the first piece I played is called Mi Recuerdo, which means my recollection. When Dad played it, I could never know if his mind was on San Juan or on the trenches. Funny... it will now be the same for me: either the Kunia of my youth or here."

"You are lucky to have such a caring father." Ezekiel had already told most of the tale of his parents' sacrifices so he could attend College.

"Indeed I am... but what about your father?"

Lehuanani sighed in regret. "I never knew him... because... Mother... she..."

Somehow, Ezekiel guessed. "Ate his heart?"

She bowed her head to confirm. "You have to understand, Ziki... a warrior's life in the jungle is simple... and can be very brutal... but there is little warfare now, in the colonized regions... so... well..."

"He was violent with her?"

"Mother said so... and I have no reason to doubt her... I have seen it happen to other girls and women..."

"I see... and I'm sorry." She could see he meant it.

"On the positive side, Mother said it gave her a lot of virility to pass down to me... don't you agree, hi hi!" She was now shaking her exposed breasts for his visual benefit and, as usual, the effect was hypnotic on Ezekiel. He was completely fascinated by a playful side of hers that seemed to be blooming. Not to mention her ravishing body to begin with. "You really like them that much?"

"Oh God yesss, sweetie... and, as a matter of fact, they do look magical... so maybe your mother was right!"

"Then why don't you touch them?"

Ezekiel gasped in surprise. "Lehuanani... you know we can't..."

"Please touch me Ziki... and kiss me fully, like on our first night."

He was terrorized and torn between lust, desire and respect of dogma. "Are... are you sure?"

She took his hand; Ezekiel offered no resistance. She placed it on her right mound, she closed her eyes and moaned in delight. "Yesss..."

Ezekiel, captivated, ever so gently lifted her bosoms. He was awestruck by the fluid movements of her cups; they were heavy and larger than his hands. Ezekiel then let his thumbs wander over her hardened nipples: the effect was a jolt of pure bliss on Lehuanani who moaned loudly. Ezekiel had never caressed skin so soft. His loins were painfully straining against his pants.

"Kiss me, Ziki... kiss me..." he was so absorbed by this erotic spectacle that he had forgotten all about her other wish.

He closed his eyes and let himself be smothered in softness, from both her breasts and her lips. He completely lost track of time and of place: his entire world was focused on hands caressing fleshy mounds, on lips tasting her sweetness and on their tongues playfully mingling.

They both moaned from their first flirt. Ezekiel of elation, Lehuanani of excited pleasure. His were the background hum, hers were a quickening crescendo. She even placed her hands on his to incite him to use more strength on her ample bust. And he did, for the first time pressing her breasts hard together and pinching her nipples. Her moans were now so high pitch they sounded almost like brief hisses.