Scene 32
Scene Thirty-two...Confession
Time: Evening, Saturday, April 27, 1946
Place: Sal's and the boat
Storyteller: William
Betty and I are at our favorite table at Sal's. The ocean is sparking. We're wearing lobster bibs. Can't risk staining her beautiful pink dress. The ruby earrings compliment it perfectly. I don't deserve her.
"Want your birthday gift now or before dessert?" I place the little box on the table to tease her.
She blushes to match her dress and whispers, "Now."
I hand it to her.
She opens it. She blinks. She looks into my eyes. She looks back at the one carat diamond solitaire. Necklace. Tears roll down her cheeks, landing on her bib.
Betty stands. Pivots. Walks past the waiter carrying our lobsters, and continues toward the entry.
I jump to my feet, yank off the bib, pass our lobsters, and follow her out the door.
We're alone in the moonlight. I grab both her hands, stare into her disappointed face and ask the obvious, "You were hoping for a ring?"
"Yes, William. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe you don't love me...I was hoping for a ring."
"It's not too soon. I do love you. I don't deserve you. It pains me to tell you why... but I will. Come to the boat."
Tom appears between the bushes. He leads us home.
I hold the door open for her. Offer her a drink. She wants a double anything on the rocks. I make two.
Still wearing the bib, she sits at the table. I take the chair across from her and gulp my rum.
"The trouble began after that letter arrived in December of '43, but we need to go back to '41."
"I enlist before Pearl Harbor. They send me to France in autumn. The leaves are such beautiful colors. The trees don't know there is a war."
"Bill is a brilliant surgeon. Older than me. The wounded keep pouring in all winter. We work side by side, day after day, hour on end. It's cold inside and out."
"Spring rains bring wildflowers. Then it's summer; hot inside and out. Bill enjoys his booze during Monopoly games and penny poker."
"No time off for holidays. The injured keep coming."
"It's almost Christmas. Bill is drunk. He hands me the letter."
"Did you read it?" Betty asks. "Of course you did. Who was it from?"
"His fiancee, Vivien. She got married. It was postmarked Chicago."
"Oh my gosh. Bill gave you his sailboat."
"Yep, his thirty-six foot sloop. My home."
"What does that 'Dear John' have to do with you, William?"
"Everything. His booze never interfered with work until that damn letter arrived."
"So Bill started drinking too much to ease his heartache," she says.
"You have no idea. Don't know how his liver stood it."
"We work. He drinks. He passes out.
I work without him.
We work. He drinks. He passes out.
I work without him.
I work without him.
His eyes are jaundice."
"Probably cirrhosis of the liver. No wonder you avoid alcohol," Betty diagnoses.
"After V.E. Day, the two of us were transferred to Paris. On a windy road north, our jeep brakes failed, catapulting us into a tree. Don't know how long I was unconscious. Woke up wearing Bill's shirt and 'dog tags'. An Atlantic City lock box key and Bill's wallet were in my pocket."
"Where was Bill?"
"I don't know! Gone. Gone with my shirt and 'dog tags.'"
"Why would he want your things?" she asks.
"He didn't want my things. He was dying. He wanted me to have his things, especially his identity, so that I could continue to practice medicine."
"But you can use your own medical degree from University of Virginia. You're the most talented surgeon I've ever worked beside. Doc Sasser agrees."
"I didn't go to college. I don't have a medical degree. Bill went to University of Virginia. Bill was Doctor William Lloyd."
Betty flies out of her chair. "Who are you?"
"Moses Smith."
"Who named you?"
"The nuns. The Hebrew baby Moses was put in a waterproof basket and placed in the Nile River for safety. I was put in a basket and placed in a church for safety."
"If you're not a doctor, why did you work with Bill?"
"Combat Medic. We treat diseases, injuries, front line trauma...assist with surgery...whatever needs to be done. We're responsible for providing medical care in the absence of a doctor...Bill was certainly absent...passed out..."
"Is that legal?"
"During the war it was, but I don't believe it's legal in Viridian Community Hospital today."
"Then why in the world are you operating there today?"
"Doc begged for my help. I couldn't say no, because his hands were shaking."
"Lord have mercy."
"I told him I'd only stay til June 1st, hurricane season."
"So you gave me expensive jewelry, with plans to leave?"
"I fell in love with you first. Then gave the rubies."
"So you're leaving in a month?"
"Don't want to leave, but really should. How can I give you a ring? You can't marry a criminal."
"I can if I want to," Betty replies. "Is Bill dead or missing in action?"
"Army thinks he's alive in Viridian. Army thinks Moses Smith is M.I.A. in France."
"What does Bill's family think?"
"His mother died when he was born. His father died when he enlisted. No siblings. We were like brothers. Our dream was to go down to Nice after the war and sail the Mediterranean."
"Who all knows about this bizarre identity switch?"
"Father Tony."
In spite of her misery, Betty chuckles. "Your secret is safe with him."
In spite of my misery, I smile and ask, "Do you suppose Sal saved our lobsters? Your bib is making me hungry."
Time: Evening, Saturday, April 27, 1946
Place: Sal's and the boat
Storyteller: William
Betty and I are at our favorite table at Sal's. The ocean is sparking. We're wearing lobster bibs. Can't risk staining her beautiful pink dress. The ruby earrings compliment it perfectly. I don't deserve her.
"Want your birthday gift now or before dessert?" I place the little box on the table to tease her.
She blushes to match her dress and whispers, "Now."
I hand it to her.
She opens it. She blinks. She looks into my eyes. She looks back at the one carat diamond solitaire. Necklace. Tears roll down her cheeks, landing on her bib.
Betty stands. Pivots. Walks past the waiter carrying our lobsters, and continues toward the entry.
I jump to my feet, yank off the bib, pass our lobsters, and follow her out the door.
We're alone in the moonlight. I grab both her hands, stare into her disappointed face and ask the obvious, "You were hoping for a ring?"
"Yes, William. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe you don't love me...I was hoping for a ring."
"It's not too soon. I do love you. I don't deserve you. It pains me to tell you why... but I will. Come to the boat."
Tom appears between the bushes. He leads us home.
I hold the door open for her. Offer her a drink. She wants a double anything on the rocks. I make two.
Still wearing the bib, she sits at the table. I take the chair across from her and gulp my rum.
"The trouble began after that letter arrived in December of '43, but we need to go back to '41."
"I enlist before Pearl Harbor. They send me to France in autumn. The leaves are such beautiful colors. The trees don't know there is a war."
"Bill is a brilliant surgeon. Older than me. The wounded keep pouring in all winter. We work side by side, day after day, hour on end. It's cold inside and out."
"Spring rains bring wildflowers. Then it's summer; hot inside and out. Bill enjoys his booze during Monopoly games and penny poker."
"No time off for holidays. The injured keep coming."
"It's almost Christmas. Bill is drunk. He hands me the letter."
"Did you read it?" Betty asks. "Of course you did. Who was it from?"
"His fiancee, Vivien. She got married. It was postmarked Chicago."
"Oh my gosh. Bill gave you his sailboat."
"Yep, his thirty-six foot sloop. My home."
"What does that 'Dear John' have to do with you, William?"
"Everything. His booze never interfered with work until that damn letter arrived."
"So Bill started drinking too much to ease his heartache," she says.
"You have no idea. Don't know how his liver stood it."
"We work. He drinks. He passes out.
I work without him.
We work. He drinks. He passes out.
I work without him.
I work without him.
His eyes are jaundice."
"Probably cirrhosis of the liver. No wonder you avoid alcohol," Betty diagnoses.
"After V.E. Day, the two of us were transferred to Paris. On a windy road north, our jeep brakes failed, catapulting us into a tree. Don't know how long I was unconscious. Woke up wearing Bill's shirt and 'dog tags'. An Atlantic City lock box key and Bill's wallet were in my pocket."
"Where was Bill?"
"I don't know! Gone. Gone with my shirt and 'dog tags.'"
"Why would he want your things?" she asks.
"He didn't want my things. He was dying. He wanted me to have his things, especially his identity, so that I could continue to practice medicine."
"But you can use your own medical degree from University of Virginia. You're the most talented surgeon I've ever worked beside. Doc Sasser agrees."
"I didn't go to college. I don't have a medical degree. Bill went to University of Virginia. Bill was Doctor William Lloyd."
Betty flies out of her chair. "Who are you?"
"Moses Smith."
"Who named you?"
"The nuns. The Hebrew baby Moses was put in a waterproof basket and placed in the Nile River for safety. I was put in a basket and placed in a church for safety."
"If you're not a doctor, why did you work with Bill?"
"Combat Medic. We treat diseases, injuries, front line trauma...assist with surgery...whatever needs to be done. We're responsible for providing medical care in the absence of a doctor...Bill was certainly absent...passed out..."
"Is that legal?"
"During the war it was, but I don't believe it's legal in Viridian Community Hospital today."
"Then why in the world are you operating there today?"
"Doc begged for my help. I couldn't say no, because his hands were shaking."
"Lord have mercy."
"I told him I'd only stay til June 1st, hurricane season."
"So you gave me expensive jewelry, with plans to leave?"
"I fell in love with you first. Then gave the rubies."
"So you're leaving in a month?"
"Don't want to leave, but really should. How can I give you a ring? You can't marry a criminal."
"I can if I want to," Betty replies. "Is Bill dead or missing in action?"
"Army thinks he's alive in Viridian. Army thinks Moses Smith is M.I.A. in France."
"What does Bill's family think?"
"His mother died when he was born. His father died when he enlisted. No siblings. We were like brothers. Our dream was to go down to Nice after the war and sail the Mediterranean."
"Who all knows about this bizarre identity switch?"
"Father Tony."
In spite of her misery, Betty chuckles. "Your secret is safe with him."
In spite of my misery, I smile and ask, "Do you suppose Sal saved our lobsters? Your bib is making me hungry."