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Confucian Canon the other boys burned all our other books
in the cooking fires. We were stuck there all summer with
only those two books. I must have read them fifty times. We
read them aloud to each other until we hardly needed the
books at all."
Hudson cleared his throat and tilted his head towards the
rear of the hut. Andrew kissed Mitchell once more and jumped
to his feet to follow Hudson and Stokes to the back corner.
Grady stood and sang "Jingle Bells." Others around him joined
in, and soon the hut shook with everybody's joyous voice.
As the men sang, Hudson, Stokes and Andrew marched
down the aisle, each wearing a gold-colored paper crown and
each bearing a gift. Stokes handed Cocoa five cigars tied
together with a red ribbon. Cocoa bowed his head, shaking it
from side to side, and said he was embarrassed he didn't
have something to give in return.
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The Lonely War
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"Are you kidding?" Stokes said. "You've cooked us the
finest meal we've ever eaten."
Cocoa nodded.
Hudson handed a package wrapped in yellow paper to
Clifford, who sat dumbfounded.
"For you, Kitten. Hope you like it."
Clifford ripped open the paper and found the embroidered
silk sarong.
"Oh, Hud!" He leaped into Hudson's arms and hugged him.
Strangely enough, it was Hudson and not Clifford with tears
running down his cheeks.
Andrew gave Mitchell a paper kite with a long cloth tail and
a ball of string. The paper was bright yellow golden, with red
letters painted on the front. Mitchell read the words aloud: "I
soar on the wind when a man creates tension by holding the
string."
He smiled with his eyes and nodded. Andrew knelt beside
him, and their lips brushed lovingly.
An embarrassed silence formed around them until Andrew
said, "The Chinese invented kites."
"I'll drink to that!" Hudson shouted. "Where are those
bottles of hooch?"
He passed three bottles of rice wine to the crew and saved
the stronger island hooch for his unit and the officers. He
poured his cup three fingers full and passed the bottle to
Fisher. As the bottle made its way around, Grady ran to
Andrew's bunk and brought back Andrew's flute.
Cocoa passed a cigar to each officer, which Mitchell
declined. Cocoa also gave one to Hudson and one to Stokes,
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The Lonely War
by Alan Chin
keeping one for himself. Hudson took out his lighter, and they
all lit up, blowing huge plumes of smoke towards the rafters.
Andrew began to play a spirited Mozart tune, but Grady
crooned, "Come on Andy, play 'Swinging Shepherd Blues.'"
Andrew nodded, and the flute took on the jazzier tune. As
he played, Grady sang in his clear, strong voice.
"In a mountain pass/there is a patch of grass/where the
swinging shepherd plays his tune..." He felt the music, and
snapping fingers and tapping toes accompanied him. "His
sheep never stray/dancing all day/till they see the pale and
yellow moon..."
Stokes swallowed some hooch, and his face scrunched up
like a prune. He jumped to his feet, swayed his hips
seductively and danced around the hut. Kelso struck a
feminine pose and batted his eyelashes. Wolf whistles erupted
as Stokes took Kelso in his arms. The music swung them
around the room.
Hudson, who was already tipsy, bowed in front of Clifford
and asked, "May I have this dance, Kitten?"
Clifford was giddy with laughter. He stood and was
swallowed by Hudson's arms. They spun around the room.
Others joined them.
"Wail on, shepherd, let it echo through the hills..."
As Andrew played, he felt Mitchell's arm slide across his
shoulder and gently pull him closer. He smelled talcum
powder mixed with the spicy aroma of hooch.
Andrew and Grady performed five more tunes before
stopping. The men groaned when Andrew quit. The party was
in full swing, and everyone, for the first time, had forgotten
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The Lonely War
by Alan Chin
where they were. The food had miraculously put the sap of
life into their bodies, and they wanted to laugh, to dance, to
feel like men again. Their laughter sparkled like a rare
diamond.
The joy, the moment, Andrew would carry in his memory
to his last hour. He gave in and played more tunes, wanting
to prolong the gift. Grady's voice brought soulful enchantment
to the music, and they played through the entire afternoon.
When Andrew finally stopped, exhausted but happy,
Mitchell whispered that a breeze was blowing. His words were
slightly slurred, and Andrew could tell from the glow in his
eyes that he'd had enough hooch to be flying himself.
They scooped up the kite and dashed out of the hut,
making their way to the clearing between the go-downs and
the wire. They attached the string, and Andrew held the kite
downwind as Mitchell let out thirty feet of string. The tight
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