“Annick and I didn’t work out. It’s easier this way. Hope that doesn’t change your mind about coming.” Robert stood up. “I’d better get back to the grindstone.”

Helen pushed back her chair to get up. “What happened?”

“She’s a crazy one. Another war casualty. But it’s ungentlemanly to kiss and tell… Stay and enjoy your coffee.”

She sat back and shaded her eyes to look up at him. “That’s too bad, but I’ve missed you. You haven’t had any time for me. I’m almost a lady of leisure now. Feature work. I’ve been sticking close in.”

He wondered if part of his attraction to her simply had to do with being rejected, but now that the possibility was long past, he thought himself probably lucky. “I worry about you. I’ve kept my mouth shut because it’ll sound like sour grapes,” Robert said. “With Darrow, the war’s different. I’ve seen it in other guys. He can’t let it go. He’s searching for more than a picture when he goes out, do you understand?”

Helen picked up her coffee cup and held it in mid air, then set it back down without taking a sip. “What are you saying?”

“He’s taking risks he doesn’t have to take anymore to get a cover,” Robert said.

“You’re wrong. He wanted to leave for Angkor awhile ago.”

“For your sake, I hope I am.”

“Anyway, we’re leaving here right after you. He’s got a replacement coming.”

“But do you think he’ll stay away? A man like him living in a house with a wife and a dog, taking the garbage out Monday nights?”

Helen shook her head. “There are other things to do. Stories that don’t involve war, like the Angkor piece.”

“His choice?”

“Our choice. We both want this.”

Robert sighed. “So why have you stopped going out?”

Helen shrugged. Since Samuels, she had not ventured into the field, making excuses to Gary, which he all too readily accepted. Samuels’s picture had gotten a lot of play and had been copied for numerous articles. Each plane of new soldiers coming off the planes at Tan Son Nhut a weight on her. “I’m taking a break. You know-do no harm.”

“Just don’t let him take you down with him.” He bent to kiss her cheek, but she turned her face and kissed him on the mouth.

“Don’t worry about me,” she whispered. “I’ll save both of us.”

But days passed each other in a succession of delays and excuses, fights and lies. As if Robert’s words, spoken aloud, had taken on a truth of their own. Darrow bewitched, enchanted, and nothing Helen could do.

As one of their last assignments, Gary had arranged for them to cover a Red Cross center for children. Darrow went there for a week while Helen made arrangements for their trip back to the States. The day he finally took her, she noticed a strange excitement in him.

The courtyard, a converted villa, was filled with the “healthy” ones, children merely missing limbs but who could still sit or crawl or hobble about. They threaded their way around children sitting in the fine white dust of the yard; Helen watched as a small boy picked up a fallen red bougainvillea flower and popped it in his mouth.

Inside, the unlucky were hidden away-the ones paralyzed by mortar fragments or burned from napalm or white phosphorous, flesh and muscle melted away.

“I was walking through the wards when I caught sight of Lan. You’ll know when you meet her. What I’m thinking is narrow the focus to one child and stay with her through the entire rehab so that people get caught up in her story.”

Darrow walked quickly, pulling Helen along by the arm. They entered a long, low-ceilinged room that was hot, like the dark insides of an oven, crowded with beds, two children in each one, sardine-style, head to feet. The sheets smelled of sweat and urine. One harried nurse, a Scotswoman with a sunken face and wide, maternal hips, was in charge of thirty children. The more fortunate ones had family who brought food and cleaned them; the others languished in institutional neglect. Lan was a single-leg amputee flown in from a free-fire zone west of Danang.

Darrow led Helen to a small cot by the shuttered window. He crouched down and spoke softly. “How’s my sweetheart?”

A small mound stirred under a grayed cotton sheet and a delicate face peered out. The girl had enormous eyes and perfect almond skin, hair pulled back by a white lace headband, and thin gold hoops that accented her petal-like ears.

“Won’t donations pour in for this face?” He smiled like a proud father.

Helen tried to see the girl in front of her, but no matter how lovely she was, Darrow saw something more than the child in front of him.

“I’m thinking we stay until enough donations are collected so she can make the trip to America with us. Document the prosthetics, rehab, the whole thing.”

Helen sat down on the dirty floor between the filled cots and pulled out a bag of candy. “That could take at least another month or two. Or more.”

“But this can make a difference.”

“So why don’t we pay for her plane ticket?”

Darrow shook his head. “No, no. Don’t you see? We’ll collect enough to send dozens of kids.”

“So you’re going to make her your poster child? Delay her rehabilitation?”

“What’s another month? I want to accomplish something tangible, and here’s my chance.”

The girl rocked herself over to lean against Darrow’s chest, her wiry, twiglike arms supporting all her weight. When she saw the bag of candy, she lunged across his knees and snatched it, scratching Helen’s hand.

“Hey!”

Darrow laughed as Lan tore the cellophane and greedily unwrapped the candies, stuffing them in her mouth. The boy sharing her cot whimpered, holding out an unsteady arm.

“She’s wild as a stray,” Darrow said. He unwrapped a caramel and handed it to the boy.

“Do you think it’s wise… singling out one child?” Helen asked.

He grimaced. “I know the power of pictures.” Darrow held Lan’s chin. “Some Iowa mother is going to fall in love with that face while she’s feeding her family eggs and toast for breakfast. She’s going to send ten, twenty dollars.”

Helen got to her feet. “Let’s take some pictures.”

After several hours, they had finished for the day and packed up. A Vietnamese woman approached with a bamboo basket of food and spoke to Lan. She looked Helen over carefully.

“Is that her mother?” Helen asked.

“No. Linh’s sister-in-law, Thao. I paid for her to care for Lan.”

The words flew out of her mouth before she could think. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too involved?”

Darrow stiffened. “This is one of the perks of the job. Being in a position to act.”

“So why don’t we all go to the States now?”

She had become like all the others, like his wife. He had worried when she went out alone on missions, but having her underfoot was worse, and now the jealousy. “We need to draw it out a bit for publicity. Then we’ll have a story to work on in California. Maybe we’ll end up helping a lot more kids. You can’t be against that?”

“Of course not.” He had pitted her against an orphaned child. How could she not look bad in the comparison? But if they were staying till every last orphan was tidied away, well…

When Darrow lifted his bags to leave, Lan let out a howl. He sat back down, and she clung to his chest. They rocked together while he hummed a song. But as soon as he tried to move away, she whimpered.

“I come back tomorrow, okay?” Darrow said. Slowly, the girl strained up and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

Helen bent down to hug the girl, smelling the stale sweat and sour milk. Small sores from the dirt and heat had erupted on her face and neck. The girl looked deep into Helen’s eyes, took a breath, and wailed, bringing the slow-moving nurse over.

“She’s a temperamental one, that girl,” the nurse said.

“She’ll get used to the idea we’re coming back. Let’s go.”

Helen was relieved to be back out in the courtyard, breathing fresh air. The afternoon sun flooded the yard with cleansing light. The smell of grilled meat over the brazier of a street vendor on the sidewalk outside made her light-headed with hunger.