Is That All THere Is

Is That All There Is

         The first time I heard that song was over breakfast in the restaurant of the hotel I had stayed in the night before.  For some, unknown at that moment, reason it stayed in my mind resonating. Peggy Lee’s cigarette burned vocal cords gave the notes of the song a quality that only she could impart to a piece of such magnitude about the human condition.

         It was 1969 and a spectacular morning as only is possible in Honolulu.  Since a PO1 really could not afford to stay in a big name Hotel, I settled for less, not bad, but not great either.  My heart was loping with the excitement of seeing the woman who was to become my bride this very afternoon at the Chapel at the Naval Hospital. My last seven months have been spent recovering from injuries incurred as a result of my last sojourn up the Mei Kong River.  At last I can move on with a new life and my beautiful bride at my side.

         Twenty eight months have passed since last we held each other closely and whispered sweet nothings into each-other's ears. Ruby could not afford to come to see me, and told me to save my money for when we got married.  There would be the expenses of purchasing a home, a car, and furnishings: Practical Ruby to the last.

        I caught a taxi to the airport with plenty of time to spare.  The three month old letter I held tightly was dog-eared and worn from at least a thousand readings. I opened it one last time. There was her good news, “I will be arriving on United 451 from San Francisco at 10:15 AM local on May 6th.1969”  I could still see the little dimple in her cheek when she smiled. I felt so lucky.  I'm sure that the reason she couldn’t be reached by phone for the last two weeks has to be she was busy finding a ground floor apartment that would be easy for me to get too with my artificial legs.

      I brought my crutches, the last thing a man wants to do is fall down in front of his bride. When the last person departed the gate, walking rather unsteadily on my crutches, I approached the uniformed man at the gate. “Could you tell me, has there been a mistake? I’m supposed to meet my bride to be.  Her name is Ruby Parker. She was supposed to be on this flight.”

      He looked at me and said, “You must be Mo, Ruby gave me this to give to you in San Francisco.” He extricated a rather thick business envelope from his inside pocket.

      I took the envelope from his hand.  I must have weaved a bit under the growing weight of the burning bowling ball sized lump in my stomach.  He took my shoulder and helped me to sit.  “Do you need some help?”

I couldn't breathe knowing what the letter had to say.

      “Look there is a bar just over this way. You look like you could use a drink, and maybe a little help getting your bearings. I can sit with you for a couple hours. The Shore Patrol on now, is a personal friend.  If you need a ride somewhere he would be glad to help.”

      I followed him to the bar, “Rum with a coke back I said.” I laid the letter down on the bar.

Dear Sweet Mo,

      I never intended to hurt you.  It is just that I needed someone to hold me. You were over there and I was so alone.  I met him at work, we had a few laughs over a drink and I went home.  Finally one night, he took me to dinner, we had wine and I woke up in his bed.  I made up my mind to break it off with him, but I missed my period.  The baby is due late in October.  We have been married since March 19.  I didn’t tell you because I could not stand the thought of hurting you.

      I laughed a rather strange laugh when reading that. “Spare a man a pin prick and save it up for a sword thrust through and through.”

    Please do not try to contact me, it will only cause us both more pain. I'm enclosing the $1500 cash that you sent me to cover travel expenses, I won't need it now.

Ruby,

      “I understand why her mother has sounded so strange when I talked to her.  It all makes a kind of twisted sense now.”

      I drank three drinks and felt nothing. “Can you hook ne up with a ride to pick up my sea bag, orders etc.?”

      “Sure.”

      I got a ride to the hotel, and then to the transfer station on base.  A very kind CPO walked me through Personnel and I was soon back in the Navy long enough to get home.  I had a cot to sleep on and three-hot meals until I could catch a MATS flight back to Rapid City, SD where I joined the Navy eight years ago.  My hospital records were sent to Hot Springs VA center and I will go into the murky fog of a totally unplanned life that lies ahead.

      I caught the bus to the beach with lots of Tourist traps and places to lose myself for a little while.

      My view has changed since this morning.  I see every cigarette wrapper, the little red cellophane ribbons used to open them and every scrap of garishly colored wastepaper blowing in the afternoon breeze. Hawaii has lost its poster quality; it is no longer anything but a giant tourist trap.  The launch point of my dream has lost its dreamlike quality and assumed the harsh tinsel nature of an artificial Christmas tree.

      I wander into a tourist bar to get out of the afternoon rain.  It is like usual, short lived, and raises the humidity to that of a steam bath. Sitting as far out of the way as possible, three rum shots with coke chasers prepare me for what comes on the Jukebox, “Is That All There Is.”

      I can’t stop a few tears which run slowly down my cheeks and threaten to wilt my white tropical uniform. 

Peggy sang just to me.  I could see that everyone else in the bar was trapped in the bubble of their own illusions. 

“Then I fell in love,

with the most wonderful boy in the world.

We would take long walks by the river

or just sit for hours gazing into each other's eyes.

We were so very much in love.

Then one day, he went away.

And I thought I'd die -- but I didn't.

And when I didn't I said to myself,

"Is that all there is to love?"

      At that moment I knew I hurt and would continue to hurt, but I would not die!



      Sometime much later we left the bar together; Peggy and I staggered as we walked for miles on the beach. I knew my stumps would hurt tomorrow, but for now it was OK. Peggy held my hand and kept me from falling.  We finally sat on a deserted strip of beach with sand which had been trucked in from the other side of the Island.  The beach was as artificial as everything else here but it really didn't matter because in two days I’m going home. I don’t know what awaits me there.  Peggy gave me a hug and I went to sleep in her arms.

      “Are you OK buddy?”

      I looked back down the beach; it was just my single tracks punctuated with crutch marks that lead back to Hotel Row.

      “Could you help me get back to the base?” I looked up into the kind face of the Shore Patrol who had taken me from the airport to the base yesterday. “Thanks, I’m going home tomorrow.”

      “We need to make sure that you make it.”

      The next morning from a window seat ahead of the wing; I looked out and watched the isle of dreams fade into the ocean of illusion.

      That is all there is, yet somehow we keep going after all the glitter is gone at least for today.

“Is that all there is, is that all there is

If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing

Let's break out the booze and have a ball

If that's all there is”

Word Count 1422