To Mary he said, “This boy needs attention. There’s a Red Cross first-aid station up that way a block.”
“I’ll have him fixed up,” said Mary.
“And will you vouch for his return to the station at the airport gate?”
“Absolutely.”
“Come on then,” the soldier spoke to Stevens who had once been Schnieder, then they marched away.
“It’s nothing,” the boy said, hiding his hand. “I’ll fix it.”
“No,” said Mary. “We’re going to the first-aid station. Then you’re going to take me to some place where I can get a swell dinner.”
“Oh, so that’s how it is?” His face lit up. “Come on, then, let’s go.”
An hour later, with his arm neatly bandaged, the boy sat opposite her, smiling. The grand dinner he had promised was coming to an end. It had been all she had dreamed of and more. They were having their black coffee and ice cream.
Taking a pencil from her purse she wrote on a card then handed it to him. “That,” she said, “is my permanent address. I’m going on a rather long journey. I may not come back. We never know. But if I do, I’d like to have something nice waiting for me. Send me your picture when you get in uniform, won’t you?”