Free Kiss Me Hello by L. K. Rigel

written: Journal of Joss Montague. She turned on the overhead light and sat down to read.

- 9 -
The Journal
    Lahaina, island of Maui, Territory of Hawaii, December 6, 1941
    L AST NIGHT I WON MY soul in a game of chance. At least that’s what the Chinese fellow tried to tell me. He offered up a broken brass bell as collateral when I raised the bet on a pair of jacks. The pot had swelled to almost three hundred dollars, more than enough to haul my trunk down to the port and go home to Olivia.
    It didn’t hurt that my two boys had three pretty ladies on their arms.
    The Chinese was the only one left in the game. The others—a pineapple plantation overseer and two naval officers over from Pearl Harbor—had folded.
    The pot was mine; all I had to do was refuse the bell. No one would call me a bounder. It was broken, even if it was a pretty thing. But I allowed the bet, not because I was a great guy, and not because the Chinese was raving on with a sad story about the rape of Nanking, but because the bell was etched with snowdrops and it reminded me of Turtledove Hill.
    I promised what gods there be that if I won I’d head home the next day. It was time to face Olivia.
    The Chinese had three aces, and he laid them out in gleeful triumph. The poor sucker turned white as a ghost when I turned my three ladies over on the two boys.
    “That bell save your soul,” he said, so woeful I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
    “I can always use a life insurance policy,” I said as I raked in the pot. “Even if it’s just Oriental superstition.”
    “Not save your life. You fool. That bell save your soul one day. You mark my word now.”
    I’ve packed the bell at the bottom of my steamer trunk. Whether or not it saves my soul remains to be seen, but it will make for an interesting story in years to come.
    Island of Oahu, Territory of Hawaii December 10, 1941
    My reunion with Olivia has been thwarted by Japan. The United States naval base at Pearl Harbor was attacked three days ago, and in a fit of patriotism I have joined up. A week ago, they would have rejected my sad twenty-nine-year-old sack of bones as too ancient, but now we’re headed for world war. As cannon fodder, my bones will suit as well as those of my seventeen-year-old shipmates.
    At this point, I’m hoping the Chinese fellow was mistaken. A soul’s not much good without a body to keep it in. At all events, I’m keeping that bell close to hand.
    Tokyo, Japan, September 1945
    It’s over. As they say, war is hell. I won’t commit to words my time there. In a matter of days, I’ll be a civilian and on my way to California. The brass bell served me well. I bore witness to man’s brutality to man. My soul is bruised beyond doubt. But I’ve come through with my life, and for that I must be grateful.
    Now, on to Olivia. Our day of reckoning has been too long postponed.
    “What?” Sara sat up straight. The late afternoon sky was gray with fog rolling in off the coast, and it was getting chilly. She’d fallen asleep reading the journal and left the door to the widow's walk open. She went out to the alcove to close it and saw the tail end of Bram’s truck in the courtyard parked next to her car.
    Aunt Amelia’s dead.
    She went back inside and closed the journal with regret. She’d never felt so attached to Hot Heat. Joss Montague’s journal was fascinating. His writing had swept her away and made her forget about poor Aunt Amelia, and she wanted to keep reading. Normally she’d feel disloyal to Bram, but under the circumstances that would be pathetic.
    “Babe, where are you?” Bram called from somewhere on the second floor.
    “I’m here.” An alarm went off inside her, a feeling of protectiveness for the observatory. “I’m coming.” She hurried out to the landing and lost her balance on the stairs. Oh, crap! A tread tilted, and she pitched forward. She was going to fall and break her damned neck.
    “Livy!” a man’s voice called out. Two strong arms