Free Sayonara by James A. Michener Page B

elevator. I think she knew that she had presented a dismal picture during our talk, for she said, “I do hope you won’t embarrass the general again.” I promised her that I wouldn’t irritate the general and refrained from pointing out that we had been talking about something quite different: my irritating her.
    I went down to a lower floor of the hotel where there was a hairdresser for the American girls who worked with our Army in Japan, and there I saw Eileen coming out more brilliant and lovely than I had ever seen her before. She had what
Life
magazine once called the well-scrubbed look and was absolutely adorable with the fresh bright charm that only American girls ever seem to have. I was disgusted with myself for having quarreled with her the night before and suggested that we sit in a corner of the elegant lounge, where a Japanese boy in a bright blue bar-boy’s uniform served us drinks.
    I said, “If you looked so adorable all the time no one would ever be able to fight with you.”
    “We weren’t fighting last night,” she teased.
    “I’m glad,” I said, “because I’ve got to keep in the good graces of at least one of the Websters.”
    She frowned and asked, “Mum give you a bad time at lunch?”
    “Very bad,” I said.
    “Mother’s a special case, Lloyd. The Army’s her whole life. She watches over Father like a mother hen and she’s been very good for him. Therefore he’s got to trust her and if she says she doesn’t like to see American officers with Japanese girls…Frankly, I don’t think Father approves of all the orders he’s had to issue because traditionally the Army is pretty adult about men and women getting together—any women. But he’s learned that in the long run Mother is usually right.”
    “Is she?”
    “Yes.”
    “Now it’s my turn to be scared.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re afraid I’ll be like my father. I’m really scared you’ll be like your mother.”
    “What’s so bad with that?” she asked.
    “I can’t stand being pushed around.”
    Eileen lifted her glass and made circles on the marble table. She said slowly, “I don’t think I’d be bossy the way Mother is because you’re much stronger than Father ever was. But mostly I wouldn’t hurt you because I love you so much.”
    That was what I wanted to hear and I said, “I’m twenty-eight now and I’ve been going around with too many airplanes. What I want now is a wife and a family.” She sneaked in a kiss and I said, “Whenever I’ve thought about a family it’s with someone like you—a girl with an Army background like my own….”
    She became gently irritated and protested. “That’s just what I mean. Why do you say, ‘a girl like me’? I’m not a type. I’m me. Damn it all, Lloyd, haven’t you ever wanted to just grab me and haul me away to a shack somewhere?”
    Now it was my turn to get on edge and I said, “When you’re an officer you meet endless problems of enlisted men who just grabbed something and hauled it away. It doesn’t appeal to me.”
    She said, “Lloyd, a man has to surrender himself sometimes.You’re not so important you have to defend yourself like a fort.”
    From the manner in which Eileen spoke I could tell that she was just as tense as I was and it occurred to me that if I married Eileen we would always be a little bit afraid of each other, a little bit on edge always to be ahead of the other person. Mrs. Webster, frankly, had scared the devil out of me and now I could see the same martial tendencies in her daughter. I could see her organizing my life for me solely on the grounds that she loved me, but the definition of what was love would always be her definition; and I thought of Joe Kelly and the girl he had found. Their fight was with the outside world—the Army and State Department and General Webster—but with themselves they were at peace.
    Now Eileen had me scared exactly the way her mother had a little while before. I’ve learned