Read Online The Bungalow by Sarah Jio - Free Book Online

light. “Look, this thing is petrified.”
    “We’ll come home perfectly thin,” Kitty said, smiling, ever the optimist.
    Stella and Liz sat across from us, but after their comments about Kitty earlier in the day, I dismissed their presence. “Well, well,” Stella said with dramatic flair, pointing to a corner table where three men sat. “Get a load of that!”
    Mary and Kitty, unaware of my grudge, turned to see what the fuss was about. “He’s the spitting image of Clark Gable,” Kitty said in agreement. “I wonder who he is?”
    “His name’s Elliot,” Stella said. “The corporal who carried my bag today introduced us. Isn’t he dreamy?”
    Mary nodded. “Very,” she said, swallowing a bite of Spam with a strained gulp.
    “It’s too bad, though,” Stella continued. “Word is that he’s deeply in love with a woman back home. A married woman.”
    Our eyes widened in unison.
    “He could have his pick of women here,” she went on, shaking her head, “and yet rumor has it that he spends his leave holed up in his bunk writing in his journal, brooding about her.”
    “How romantic,” Kitty said dreamily.
    I nodded. “A man who loves a woman that much is very rare.”
    “Or very stupid,” Stella rattled back. She went on about her plan to capture Elliot’s attention, while I picked at my plate.
    I took another look at the table, where this man, Elliot, sat. He did resemble Clark Gable. Handsome, with dark eyes and thick ebony hair that came to a curl at the front. Yet my eyes were drawn instead to another, seated to his left. Tall, but not nearly as built, with lighter, wispier hair and sun-kissed skin with a dusting of freckles. His left hand shoveled food into his mouth while his right cradled a book, one he was clearly engrossed in. As he turned the page, he looked up. His eyes immediately met mine, and the creases of his mouth formed an instant smile. I quickly snapped my head back around. What has gotten into me? I instantly regretted the breach of decorum.
    I felt my cheeks burn as I forced a bite of Spam, trying my best to avert the gag reflex rising in my throat. Stella had seen the exchange, and she shot me a mocking glance, but I turned away, willing myself to regain composure.

    Tropical nights were better than tropical days, I decided, even if there were mosquitoes. The break from the sun made the air more agreeable. And then there was the cool mist wafting off the sea, and the stars, those luminous stars, so close you could almost reach out and pluck one from the indigo sky.
    Kitty and I walked arm in arm along the gravel path to the center of camp to join in the evening festivities, she in her yellow dress and I in my red one. Kitty had urged me to wear something more daring, and at the last moment, I’d conceded.
    It wasn’t much of a walk, maybe the equivalent of five city blocks, but it felt like a great distance in heels. We passed the infirmary and noticed an interior light shining. Is Nurse Hildebrand inside? We scurried past swiftly. As we neared the men’s barracks, Kitty and I pretended not to hear the whistles from the men smoking outside.
    A safe distance past, Kitty tugged at my arm. “Look,” she said, pointing to a large green shrub erupting in the most breathtaking blossoms.
    “They’re beautiful,” I said. “What are they?
    She picked a red bloom from the bush. “Hibiscus,” she said, tucking the flower behind her right ear, before offering one to me. “In French Polynesia, when your heart is taken, you wear the flower in your left ear,” she said. “When it’s not, you wear it in your right.”
    “How do you know that?”
    Kitty grinned. “I just do.”
    I stared at the enormous bloom in my hands; its crinkly petals were a brilliant shade of crimson. “Then I must wear it in my left,” I said, dutifully tucking the flower behind my ear.
    “How lovely,” Kitty said, pointing to a makeshift dance floor in the distance. It had been cobbled together