Under the Banyan Tree

By Lenore McKelvey Puhek

Patricia Dougherty, an army nurse stationed at Tripler Army Medical Hospital in Hawaii, and Michael McCarthy, an injured sailor, met and fell in love. The war separated them. Patricia returned to her hometown of Helena, MT. She got married, continued with her nursing career, and raised a family. She never forgot Michael.

Years passed. Patricia, widowed, vacations in Hawaii. Michael, a widower, is a successful businessman. He, too, never forgot his first love.

A late-night walk on Waikiki Beach, a moment of recognition . . . the island gods magic at work. Will they find their way back to each other? Can they be happy with a second chance at love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781532044298

Lenore McKelvey Puhek

Lenore McKelvey Puhek holds a BA in English/Writing from Carroll College, Helena, MT. This is her sixth book in the series of historical fiction based on women who deserve to be recognized for their contributions towards the Western Movement.

Book preview

1

MICHAEL

The tattered piece of paper, folded into four quarters like a greeting card said:

Patricia,

Meet me under the Banyan tree at

Midnight

New Year’s Eve.

Michael

Patricia waited under the tree. She heard the bells from a nearby church strike twelve times. Tears filled her eyes as she endured the agonizing pain of her heart breaking into small pieces. Michael where are you?

It was then she realized Michael was gone forever.

2

PATRICIA

I paused, partially hidden behind the gigantic marble column at the top of the stairs that led into the breakfast buffet area of the Hawaiian Palms Hotel. My daughter waited for me to join her, and I wanted to locate Alicia before I made my grand entrance. I spotted her sleek blonde ponytail bobbing up and down, as if she was laughing heartily. Her table companion looked happy to be sitting there, and I wondered who the white-haired gentleman could be. He looked to be about my age.

Debating as to what I should do, the problem solved itself when the man in question rose from his chair. He reached over and took my daughter’s hand, planting a very gentlemanly kiss on her fingertips before walking away.

I sprang into action. Alicia! Over here. I waved to her as I walked swiftly to her table.

Mom, what kept you so long? Come…sit. You just missed meeting the most delightful, charming and handsomest man on this island. Well, at least in this hotel. Alicia actually giggled. He might have been Mr. Right.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head from side to side.

I need coffee, not a man, in my life right now. I signaled to our waiter to bring me a cup. I took a sip and looked around the room. When I noticed the Banyan tree growing in the center of the courtyard I blinked hard, not wanting tears to flow. I definitely did not want Alicia to see me crying. It would be confusing to her at the very least. She knew nothing about my first love, Michael.

I turned my thoughts to other things.

So…do you still want to start your well-earned vacation visiting the hospital where I was stationed as an Army nurse back in the dinosaur days?

Absolutely. She smiled that TV commercial smile. Let’s get to it.

Alicia, recently graduated with a degree in nursing herself, had said she’d like to go to Hawaii. I wanted to reward her with a trip of her choice. Hawaii was the last place I expected her to say she wanted to visit, since we had already explored the islands. I still have a close friend working at the hospital. However, since it was her choice, the plans were made. This time we decided to splurge and stay at the fancy hotel with Waikiki Beach, the Pacific Ocean and Diamond Head seen from our balcony window.

We had arrived late last night and I was shocked to see the visible growth of the buildings, the heavy traffic and people everywhere. It felt like we had landed on the wrong side of the map and should be looking at the Statue of Liberty.

Who was that man you were talking to?

He said he is the manager of the restaurant in this fabulous hotel. He told me Elvis stayed here. Oh! So did John Wayne. She smiled at me. "Both favorites of yours, Mom, right?

Swoon…where’s my fainting fan and couch? We laughed together.

I will agree with you that this is a beautiful hotel. I felt like I was walking the halls of Spencer Tracey, Grace Kelly, and Frank Sinatra…maybe? We will have to ask Mr. Right if we see him again, won’t we?

Alicia slid out of her chair. Gather up your things and let’s go hail us a cab; we have to stand out in front. She slung her hobo bag over her shoulder. I made an appointment with the administrative nurse, Mrs. Sheila O’Leary, for ten o’clock this morning.

You did? My surprise showed on my face. Why?

Alicia was half-way through the lobby and nearly outside when I caught up to her. Why?

Alicia remained silent. I had a feeling she was holding back something. Never in my wildest dreams would I have even suspected what that something was. Little did I know my world was about to be turned upside down once again.

3

PATRICIA

Aloha. The cab driver opened the sliding doors on both sides of his cab. Alicia took the left side seat and I walked around the cab to sit next to her.

Aloha. I said. We want to go to the Tripler Medical Center. The door slid shut and we were on our way. Except for the occasional Ooo’s, and look at that" we sped along without conversation. I was amazed at how much I remembered and at how much I’d forgotten. The construction of the skyscraper hotels fascinated me. The skyline resembled downtown Manhattan. We rolled past Trump Towers and Alicia noted the cream-colored limos lined up in the private parking spaces.

And then, before I could blink, there it was; the splendid coral-pink walls of the most prestigious Army hospital in the world, glowing ever so brightly in that pure morning sunshine. Stunned, I pressed my right hand over my heart as emotion overwhelmed me. I don’t know what I had expected to see, but certainly not this frozen time capsule.

Mom? Alicia stared at me and concern spread across her face. Are you okay?" For a moment I couldn’t speak. Almost thirty years had passed since I’d been inside this magnificent healing hospital. It would have been best to have left the past in the past.

Mom? Alicia jumped out of the cab and ran around to my side of the vehicle. About that same time, I regained my senses and put one foot out onto the driveway. I stood up, dusted my muumuu and smiled.

What are we waiting for? Let’s get inside out of this humidity and heat. I hurried up the short flight of steps and held the door open for Alicia. The interior cool air welcomed us and gave me a needed breath of air.

The receptionist at the lobby entrance looked up from her computer.

Aloha kakahiaka. May I help you? When I told her we had an appointment, she immediately pushed a call button. Can I get you some kawai Ma’am? You look like you need hydration.

I smiled at her choice of words. "You know, I would like some kawai. When she returned and handed each of us a large glass of cool water I automatically thanked her. Mahalo."

The special sectioned-off door swung open and a very commanding figure approached us with an outstretched hand.

Aloha. I am Mrs. O’Leary. Welcome to Tripler Army Medical Center. She reached for my hand first, and smiled. I noticed a very large, cream-colored pearl set in a gold band. And to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

Mrs. Patricia Dougherty. I worked here as an Army nurse for three years. The woman smiled and turned to Alicia.

"You must be Alicia Dougherty; how nice to finally meet you." She took Alicia’s hand and led her into the inner hallway with me following, sort of like a lost puppy.

I decided I must have heard her wrong in the confusion of the moment. After all, Alicia had said she had made the appointment for today.

Come, follow me down this hall to the left and we will begin a short tour. We strolled through the various wards and peeked through square windows in shut doors. We walked swiftly through a physical therapy room full of young men and women sweating hard, determined to regain balance and strength in their damaged, fragile bodies. These warriors were brought to this hospital for specialized recovery procedures, including surgery and physical therapy. Many needed psychological repair as well.

Alicia, you wrote on your resume’ that you are a registered nurse with a bachelor’s degree in Nursing Education? A BSNE?

Yes, Ma’am.

That is very impressive. She smiled at me. Only the brightest receive that special education and training. I nodded and smiled at my daughter.

Mrs. O’Leary opened a file she had been carrying as we walked. I see you hold that degree from Carroll College in Helena, Montana.

I spoke up. Helena is our home town. Alicia lived with me for most of her training at St. John’s Hospital and while attending college.

Alicia had received a four year scholarship when she had graduated from high school, but she still worked part-time on the hospital floor. She completed her education at the University of Washington, earning her Master’s Degree.

Again, I furrowed my brow. Why had Alicia sent this woman information about her education? Then I saw Alicia give the head nurse a slight shake of her head, indicating she not ask questions in front of me. I knew I was not wrong this time in what I saw and heard.

Mrs. Dougherty, maybe you would like to visit the old ward? It is just down this hall and to the right. Nothing has changed in design since you worked here, even the walls are the same color, but I am sure you would like to see the new equipment. She pointed me down the hall.

I want to take Alicia into my office for a few minutes. We’ll catch up shortly.

I had been dismissed. Alicia disappeared behind a door that closed with a whoosh. I blinked a couple of times before taking my hike down the long corridor to my old station.

I was totally alone when the emotional impact of returning to Tripler hit me. Like a rolodex flipping faster than a hamster’s cage, I saw my desk and the patients all in rows on cots. This hospital, built over one hundred years ago, maintains a history of healing miracles in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Thousands of wounded men and women from all branches of the service received the best medical assistance from competent doctors and nurses and technicians.

The hospital staff was over-run with the wounded from the Pearl Harbor attack in 1941. Soldiers slept in hastily assembled sheds, during the height of the battles, thankful for any treatment and pain medication they received.

The wounded healed physically, but mentally and emotionally the scars refused to erase from the brain. Thousands of the warriors went through excruciating physical therapy every day to release their bodies of an emotional paralysis.

My time at Tripler, many years later and during a different war, continued the traditions established. I was proud to serve for three years.

It was in this very department that I had met a sailor named Michael McCarthy. Even today I can still see him, in his sailor suit, standing tall and brave, and his body shaking from the pain.

My friend, Janie, watched the newly injured from a different spot in the room. She saw the young man sway and she ran to his side. Patricia, I need help here. She put her back up to his back in order to keep him from falling over.

I grabbed his arms; he stayed upright. Hey! Sailor…easy does it. He looked right into my eyes; beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. The grimace turned into a wan smile when I sat him down on a cot. Memories, I thought.

I returned to the present and let my eyes sweep the room. Eventually, I located Cot #3, Michael’s space. The man lying there watched me with intense, dark eyes. He did not speak, but continued to gaze as I put my hands over my mouth.

Michael? I said the name out loud. No one spoke back, but several patients shuffled to a different part of the room. What was the matter with me?" I had to get a grip. I turned and walked briskly back the way I had come.

Ready to leave, Mom? I had the receptionist call a cab for us and I see one coming up the drive. Alicia thanked the receptionist as I opened the huge doors.

I hurried outside, not wanting Alicia to see my distress. We crawled into the cab as the driver waited for instructions.

Aloha. Please take us to Waikiki Beach. I sat back into the cushions and closed my eyes. What is happening to me? What is Alicia up to?

4

MICHAEL

I pushed in several chairs, straightening up the breakfast buffet area. As usual, the breakfast buffet waiters stayed busy until almost noon with guests from the hotel. Early morning risers looked for that first cup of coffee to start their day. Others watched the sun rise as if peeking over the mountain tops spreading bright rays of yellow edging the horizon. Surfers clad in nothing but tight-fitting shorts paddled out to greet that first big wave.

I’ll never tire of this life of mine. Michael took a deep breath.

I made the right decision about my life. To return to Hawaii after my tour of duty ended certainly was the best path for me. I never thought I’d be an old sea dog. Only one thing I wish I could roll back the years and….

Mr. McCarthy? Sir. We need you in the kitchen. The waiter looked stressed as he stood near my chair. I frowned at the interruption.

What’s the problem?

The waiter picked up my empty cup.

I took a quick glance back over the outside seating area under the Banyan tree. The waves lapping at the sand continued in an even rhythm, all was well in God’s world. Whatever the problem could be in the kitchen certainly had a solution. I sighed as I carefully wound my way through the breakfasters. Guests stood at the buffet choosing fresh fruits artfully arranged like a rainbow on huge platters; mango, pineapple, bananas, luscious bright red strawberries, black-berries, apricots, peaches, apple slices, and tiny oranges. Every type of fruit one could imagine greeted hungry eyes.

Sausage, pork, sizzling bacon, ham slices, chicken, shrimp casseroles and fish dishes filled the air with aromas delegated to make stomachs growl in anticipation. Every kind of egg recipe a chef could dream up stayed warm in huge round pots. Rolls, breads, and a variety of island nuts filled one counter-top in their seashell pottery shaped bowls. Vegetable deliveries every morning, stayed crisply fresh and very cold, only to be topped with a variety of salad dressings.

I couldn’t help but smile. The buffet tempted each and every guest, including all ages and gastrointestinal need. If a guest requested a certain menu, the next morning that request would appear on the buffet board. Boxed cereals had a space on the shelf, along with oatmeal, brown sugar and cinnamon for the Mainland requests.

I pushed through the kitchen door that separated the guests from where the magic happened. What seems to be the problem?

The head chef looked heated, his face bright red. We had a bad delivery today. I refuse to cook this pork. He held up a very bad looking piece of meat.

Thank you, Chef Andre’. You did the right thing. This is your department. You know that, so why was I brought into the fray?

"I have been accused of going to steal this pig. I wanted you to know that I did not plan to steal it. Andre’ dropped the side of pork to the floor. I would not feed it to my dogs."

"Andre’, let me know when you have cooled off. Thank you for not serving our guests this bad meat. Toss it aside and I will take it up with the farmer. Your reputation remains solid and impeccable. Now…everyone. Chop. Chop. I waved my hands in a chopping motion. Back to work. The next wave of breakfast guests is about to descend upon us."

I strolled out of the kitchen, into my private office, sat stiffly into my fancy roll-around chair and ran fingers through my healthy mane of white hair. It’s a wonder I even