In the tale, "Chocolate Kisses," the characters of this story, were introduced. That tale related a forbidden romance in Depression Era Los Angeles.
James Ewart, 45, a World War One fighter ace whose children were viciously murdered. His wife, Catherine, committed suicide after becoming pregnant with the murderer's child. Years later, he fell in love with Bethany Rose, a colored woman.
Bethany Rose, 33, a college nursing student who dropped out due to the Depression. She and her Jimmy moved to Hawaii, the only territory beside Alaska where inter-racial marriages could be legally occurring. They have two daughters.
Eliza, Bethany's older sister, 38, married John Franklin, 50, a former member of the Ku Klux Klan, and they also moved to Hawaii with her three children from a previous relationship.
Thanks to pawwriter for editing this chapter; to elliot, lynn and pepper for their support...
Chapter 1... Early September, 1941
On the morning of Tuesday, the 2nd, Bethany Rose and Eliza, lifting the hems of their brightly colored sarongs, ran for the shelter of the small market's awning. Even during the dry Hawaiian month of September, the life giving rain splattered the rich volcanic soil and darkened their sandals.
Apprehensively, the two sisters looked down the narrow street toward Waimea Bay. For the last eight months, Popukea on the North Shore had been overrun by sailors. Everywhere they went, groups of sailors were standing around, watching, almost leering at all the women and girls, so exotic after living in small, isolated Southern towns.
Just like every girl or woman over the age of twelve, they were met with appraising looks from every uniformed man walking the streets. The locals knew who the haole women were. It was common knowledge their husbands were very obsessively protective of the two dark sisters and their children.
After that first assault, every woman in the area came to town with at least one male member of her family, usually two, sometimes armed with guns or machetes. Mostly, they didn't come at all.
The sisters went in to buy more sugar and flour for Eliza's fruit pies. Food hoarding had not been officially endorsed but at the beginning of the year the military had already begun to do so. As much as possible, the family didn't use any food set aside for the horrifying times they knew were going to come.
Eliza touched her sister's arm. "Bethany, let's get out of here," she anxiously whispered. "These sailors are giving me the willies and we need to leave."
The 'line to pay' seemed to move as slow as death. The old woman ahead of them hassled over the price of every item she had. Bethany already had her money out when two sailors came to the line and cut ahead of her, forcing her back into Eliza.
One, a tall sandy-haired man with a badly sunburned, peeling face, just laughed... a love, evil laugh and said something to her in a heavy, almost unintelligible Southern drawl.
Shocked, Bethany stepped back again, causing Eliza to drop both bags of flour. Hitting the wooden floor, they split open and a rising cloud of flour coated everything nearby, including both sailors' shoes.
"Look what you done, you dumb..." He walked toward her, his raised fist shaking in anger.
Bethany and Eliza continued to move back from the men, Eliza looking behind her as they tried to walk away.
"C'mere... what'chu gonna do 'bout muh shoes?" The other one stepped forward and grabbed Bethany by the arm, pulling her toward him, twisting her wrist. Her silver coins scattered onto the slippery floor, leaving dusty white trails as they rolled through the flour and under the shelves.
"Let me go! Please! You're hurting me!" She tried to pull away, pushing against the now slippery floor as her foot raised another dust cloud into the air. She took a deep breath to calm down and instantly regretted it as the flour dried her throat. Where was John?
He twisted harder, she screamed and he swung his other hand back to slap her face. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around; a fist came smashing into his nose. Then, a knee violently lifted him off the floor and the bleeding man collapsed onto the broken flour bags, exploding another white cloud into the air.
His friend cringed and edged cowardly back, seeking to disappear behind a display of Spam. Frantically looking to find a way out the door, he was met by another man's fist, doubling him over onto the tumbling cans and then the flour-covered floor, sending yet another cloud of flour across the floor.
Outside, a crowd had gathered drawn by Bethany Rose's high-pitched scream. Sailors outside started yelling while the mostly silent local crowed waited across the way. The people in the store could hear them as several sailors tried to enter the store but were stopped by a looming figure silhouetted by the sunlight.
Bethany was pulled back by Eliza who was now yelling something. Bethany couldn't understand what her sister was saying. The sharp burn in her wrist was overriding everything else.
She couldn't believe all this was happening... happening to her.
The sailor, who had attacked Bethany Rose, foolishly tried to stand up. John knocked him down again with a kick to the groin; this time, he stayed down, curled up in pain and crying like a stuck pig.
"John!" Eliza cried. "Oh, John, thank God."
John looked at the man cowering on the floor. "Get up again and I swear to God I'll kill you, you son of a bitch.
"Liza, put some ice on her wrist and wrap it up so it stays cool. Go on, girls, and keep that arm up, Bethany." Although Bethany had studied to be a nurse, the pain overwhelmed her; she forgot the most basic simple part of First Aid.
There was a huge roar outside and two burly SPs dressed in white pushed their wsay in. "What's going on here?" the bigger one asked, tapping his dark baton onto his left hand. He looked around the small market covered in flour and instinctively waved his hand through the still floating white dust.
He saw two sailors moaning on the floor and two civilians standing over them looking to kill. Who was that old man? Somehow, he felt he should know.
John looked over. "Glad the Shore Patrol finally decided to show up. Just taking out the trash, Master at Arms. Maybe you can help me?" John nudged the bleeding man with his boot.
"All right, all right... quit joking around. What happened?" He looked warily at the two sisters. Aside from being covered in flour dust, they were nicely dressed, not at all what he would have expected of two colored women, especially in a nowhere town in Hawaii.
He knew the local customs in Hawaii were very different from Fresno but it still took a conscious effort to work within its far different boundaries. All these people, here...so different... too different.
"This piece-of-shit, here, and that one over there, aren't worthy of the uniform. He was manhandling my sister-in-law and I took offense with his attitude and actions. He had no right to touch her and he's damn lucky you two showed up. I was about to take him out the back and kick his goddamn redneck ass all the way back to the mainland."
The SP looked at John, with his so gray, thinning hair and age lines on his face and hands. "How old are you, anyway?"
"Fifty. I was at..." he paused, "in the Great War, Belleau Wood."
"Jesus Christ... OK, we'll take these guys in. What's your name?"
