by Mark Goodwin
“Thanks again.” Ava watched the two men return to their vehicle, then locked the door.
“Did you catch all of that?” she asked.
Charity emerged from the back room. “Yeah, I didn’t want to be a total lurker, eavesdropping from the back room, but I didn’t really feel like there was a good time for me to come in. It sounded pretty personal.”
“No problem.” Ava’s mind was preoccupied with her father’s condition.
“So, you’re heading out again tomorrow?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m leaving you here to mind the farm all by yourself again. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about that. You go see your dad. Buckley helps out quite a bit. I haven’t taught him to weed yet, but he’s really good company.”
Ava smiled to show her appreciation of Charity’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Thank you. I’ll be glad when we’re all back here together. I suppose I should pack a bag. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.”
“Okay. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you before you leave in the morning.”
Ava hugged her friend. “Good night.”
CHAPTER 21
Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad.
Ecclesiastes 7:7
Ava held tightly to Captain Murphy’s hand as he escorted her to her father’s recovery room at the Altus Air Force Base Medical Center.
“He may not recognize you.” The doctor gave her an empathetic look. “I want you to be prepared for whatever.”
“I know.” She frowned. “Is he eating solid food?”
“Soft foods. I’m not confident that his digestive system is ready for anything too hard to process. Mac and cheese, mashed potatoes and gravy, soup, pudding, that sort of thing. We’ll be serving dinner soon. You can eat with him if you like.”
“That would be nice,” she said. “But he’s not sedated?”
“No. After dinner, I’ll give him something to help him rest through the night. But he’s awake.”
“Seeing me won’t upset him, will it?”
“I can’t imagine that it would. If he gets anxious, I can give him a shot. I’ll be in the room with you.”
Ava nodded and took a deep breath before walking into the room.
Murphy opened the door. Inside was a hospital bed, a television, which was turned off, a window with the blinds open looking out at the tennis courts, and two chairs. In one of the chairs was a thin frail man who resembled her father.
Her first thought was that this was not her dad. Despite the best intentions of Colonel Barr, they’d somehow been given the wrong prisoner. Yet when the man looked up at her with his confused eyes, she quickly recognized him as Ulysses Adams. He was clean-shaven, dressed in comfortable clothes, but he appeared to have lost nearly twenty pounds in the forty-six days since she’d last seen him. She couldn’t imagine what that time period had been like for him. She felt the knot forming in her throat but through determination, pushed it down. She would not break down in front of him. She had to be strong for her father and for herself.
The emaciated figure in the chair looked up at her. “Kimberly?” He reached out for her hand.
She took his hand. “No, Dad. It’s me, Ava. Kimberly is dead. She died giving birth to me—thirty years ago.”
He put his hand on her stomach. “The baby!” His eyes looked up at her face with an expression of pain and bewilderment. “Where’s the baby?”
Ava’s lips quivered and she lost her fight against the tears. “Daddy, I’m the baby. I’m Ava, don’t you remember me?”
He stared at her silently for a long while. After several minutes he spoke, his voice telling that he did not fully comprehend what she was saying. “You’re—the baby?”
She sat in the chair next to his. She gripped his hand tightly. Ava dried her eyes and nodded. “I’m Ava. I’m your daughter.”
He looked at her again for a good long while, saying nothing. Finally, he said it again, but with slightly more conviction. “You’re—the baby.”
She nodded, feeling so sorry for this poor tortured soul in front of her.
Ulysses looked up at the doctor. “Why did you bring her here?”
Ava felt confused, wondering if for some reason her father didn’t want to see her.
“She’s your daughter, Ulysses. I thought you’d like her company,” said Murphy.
Ulysses shook his head. He began speaking in a language Ava only recognized as oriental.
Murphy pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Hi, it’s Captain Murphy. Can you send Sergeant Chen to the medical center, room 107? He’ll know what it’s about.”
“What’s he saying?” Ava pleaded.
“I’ve got a translator on the way,” the captain replied.
Ava held her father's hand as he continued to speak in an unknown tongue. Distressed, she asked, “What language is that?”
“Mandarin.”
“Like Chinese? I didn’t know he spoke it.”
“I’m sure he picked it up over the course of nearly three decades. He would’ve had to. He may not even remember it when he’s not in this dissociative state.”
Ava hated seeing her father like this. The man who’d had all the answers, the person who’d been stronger than anyone she’d ever met, her hero; to see him so vulnerable was more than she could handle. Yet handle it she did. She clenched her jaw, fought back the tears and held his hand as he babbled on about something she couldn’t understand.
Sergeant Chen knocked before entering.
“Come on in,” Murphy said. “You remember First Sergeant Adams.”
“Of course, the man who may have turned the course of the war.” Chen looked at Ava as if he recognized her. “You’re not Ava Mitchem, are you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Chen straightened his back. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Thank you, and thank you for your service, as well. My dad, he keeps saying something in Chinese, can you tell me what it is?”
Ulysses looked at Murphy again and repeated the phrase.
Chen sighed. He looked at Ava with solicitude.
“What is it?” she asked. “I just want to know.”
Chen replied, “He’s saying to the doctor, you shouldn’t have brought her here, to China. They’ll hurt her. You have to get her out of the country before they find out.”
Ava’s gaze fell to her father’s hand, which was still in hers. She looked up at Chen. “Tell him he’s not in China. Tell him he’s in Oklahoma. Tell him he’s home.”
Chen nodded and relayed the message.
Ulysses listened and shook his head with distrust. He glared at Chen, then turned to Murphy with a look of disappointment.
Ava tugged on his hand and peered into his eyes. “You’re home, Daddy. You’re with me. And wherever we are together, that’s home.”
She pointed out the window, beyond the tennis courts. “Look, Dad. An American flag. You’re in America—with me.”
Ulysses furrowed his brow and closed his eyes. His lips pressed together as if he were grasping at some distant memory, at a dream he’d had long ago and had forgotten until this very moment.
Eventually, he opened his eyes and stared at the shine from the heavy wax on the linoleum floor. Minutes later he looked up at Ava once more, his eyes more certain this time. “You’re the baby.”
She nodded and leaned in to hug him. “Yeah, Dad. I’m the baby.”
The days passed and Ava spent as much time as possible with Ulysses who slowly seemed to regain his grasp of reality. The psychiatric specialist left, leaving Captain Murphy in charge of Ulysses’ mental health care. Adhering to the advice given by the psychologist, Murphy asked Ava to limit her visits to three hours a day in order to give Ulysses time to process and rest.
Ava had been at the base for one week when her father got cleared to leave his room in the medical center. She met him at his room, and the two of them walked across the base to the dining facility for lunch.
Ulysses was quiet as usual. Ava talked about the farm, about Charity, and about Buckley, but she never mentioned the war.
The two approached the dining facility known as Hangar 97. Ulysses paused to look around before entering the building. “Where is Foley?”
Since Ava had avoided speaking of the civil conflict, she’d necessarily had to steer clear of discussing Foley. Ulysses had recalled Foley from his own memory. To Ava, it was the most favorable sign of Ulysses’ recovery yet. She smiled happily. “He’s in Idaho. His militia team is backing up the border patrol there until things settle down. After that, he’ll be coming home for two weeks of R&R.”
“Idaho.” Ulysses looked northwest as if he might be able to spot the state from Oklahoma. “Which border?”
Ava shrugged. “Either Oregon or Nevada. Colonel Barr told me. He couldn’t get more specific. They don’t have to guard the Washington border. The new state of Liberty, which was the eastern half of Washington, is secure. Do you remember any of that?”
Ulysses seemed to think for a while, still standing outside the DFAC. “Liberty. Yeah, I remember that.”
Ava held the door open and Ulysses walked through, seeming to be still pensive about the memories she’d just stirred. Once inside, four soldiers sitting at the table nearest the door noticed Ava and Ulysses come in. They stood up and saluted them. The men and women sitting at the tables around them soon became aware of their presence, and also stood up. Soon, everyone in the dining facility left their seats with the tips of their fingers on their foreheads.
Ulysses looked confused. “Why are they looking at us?”
“Because you’re a hero. You should salute them.”
He seemed anxious to get the attention off of himself, so Ulysses did as Ava had suggested.
The two made their way to the cafeteria line where three other soldiers insisted that they go in front of them. Ava thanked them and accepted the gesture. Once they’d filled their trays, Ava and Ulysses took a table near the back.
Ulysses stared at his food for a while, then looked up. “What did I do?”
“Do you remember us taking a trip to California?”
Ulysses took a deep breath and his eyes opened wide as if he’d just seen a ghost. “California! That was real?”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure what you’re thinking of, but if it’s about a secret mission to take down Shane Lawrence, yes, that was real.”
“There was a nightclub.” He looked at her with anguished eyes. “You were supposed to leave right away, but you didn’t.” He began to cry. “Why didn’t you leave?”
Ava joined him with her sobs. She slid her tray out of the way and grabbed his hands. “I couldn’t leave you. You’d have never left me behind like that. I just couldn’t. But it’s okay. We both made it out alive. And what we did—what you did, changed the course of the war.”
“Is this seat taken?” Captain Murphy stood with his tray of food from the cafeteria line.
“No, please. Sit down.” Ava dried her eyes and offered the doctor a friendly smile.
Murphy looked at the two of them. His face showed a sudden look of concern. “If it’s a bad time, I can come back.”
Ulysses shook his head. “Not at all, we were just catching up on some memories. We’d love to have you join us.”
“If you’re sure I’m not imposing.” Murphy slowly placed his tray on the table and pulled out his chair.
“Some things just came back to Dad.” Ava took Ulysses’ hand. “We had sort of an emotional moment there.”
The doctor nodded. “That’s to be expected. You never know what’s going to trigger a memory or an emotion. But it’s good news. It shows you’re progressing. In fact, Ulysses, you can move into the guest house with Ava. I’d like to keep you around the base for a couple more weeks at least before we send you home.”
Ulysses looked at Ava, then back at Captain Murphy. “Are you sure? Am I—safe?”
“Yes, absolutely,” he replied.
Ulysses clinched Ava’s hand. “What if I have another episode? What if I forget where I’m at and who Ava is again? I don’t want to do anything to hurt her. I couldn’t live with myself if something like that happened.”
Murphy nodded as he finished chewing. He took a sip of his tea and replied, “I understand your concern, but I looked over your records from when you first came home from China. Even then, you never displayed any violent or hostile behavior.”
“But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen.” Ulysses looked sternly at the doctor.
Captain Murphy shook his head. “At this stage of your recovery, it won’t happen. Not unless you had some new trauma to cause a complete relapse. I would never put you in that situation if I thought there was even the most remote chance you might become dangerous to Ava or yourself.”
“That’s great news!” Ava exclaimed. “We’ll get to spend more quality time together.”
The doctor added, “But let’s avoid the news and war movies for the next week. If you feel like you have to know what’s going on, read the paper. It’s not as likely to trigger an episode as the television with all the sights and sounds of battle.”
“I think I can handle that,” Ulysses turned to Ava. “If I remember correctly, that guest house has some cards and board games.”
Ava grinned. “I’ve been playing a lot of Gin with Charity. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
The doctor took another drink from his glass. “And get out of the house at least once a day. The base has a pool, bowling alley, tennis, plenty of activities to get you both outside.”
“Sounds like a great idea. We’ll take your advice. Thanks,” said Ava.
The three of them enjoyed their meals, then Ava helped get her father settled into the guest house.
On the following Saturday, Ava and her father sat on the over-stuffed couches reading the morning paper.
Ava had taken the first section containing the front page. “Wow! Mexican gangs are chewing up Shreveport, Louisiana, and Oklahoma City. It says they are gushing into the Alliance States from the porous borders with Texas.”
“Can I see that?” Ulysses placed his section of the paper on the coffee table and held out his hand.
“Sure. The article is right at the top.” She passed him the paper and got up. “Will you have another cup of coffee if I make another pot?”
“Yes, please.” Ulysses opened the newspaper and sat back on the couch.
Ava made her way to the kitchen, filled the coffee maker with grounds and water, then clicked the start button.
A knock came to the door.
“I wonder who that could be.”
Ulysses jumped up from his seat. “Don’t open it!”
“Relax, Dad. I have my pistol. Besides, we’re on an Air Force Base. I think we’re pretty safe. You know I’ll check to see who it is before I open the door.” Ava wanted to wait for her father to calm down before checking the peephole. “Remember your breathing exercises. Count to four and breathe in, hold it for four seconds, then count to four as you breathe out.”
Ulysses nodded as if he understood his reaction to the knock at the door was not normal.
She watched him begin his breathing exercise and slowly made her way to the door. She looked out the peephole. Ava covered her mouth in shock and gasped for air.
Ulysses suspended his breathing exercise and hurried to the door. His voice was frantic. “Who is it?”
She shook her head and quickly flipped the latch to the deadbolt. She opened the door.
Foley dropped his duffle on the porch and embraced Ava.
Seconds later, she pulled back. “I had no idea you were coming!”
Foley grinned. “I stopped by the farm first. Charity told me you were here.” He turned to Ulysses. “I was glad to hear that you were okay.”
Ulysses hugged him. “Okay might be a stretch, but I’m alive and doing better than I was . . . thanks to my special girl.”
“You’re home fo
r two weeks?” Ava asked hopefully.
Foley held her hands. “One week, but we’ll make the most of it.”
“One week? Why? What happened?”
“It’s this business with the gangs. Markovich is using them to harass the Alliance. By sending them flooding across the borders, the Alliance States have to dedicate more men to border security. Plus, the militia is having to back up the local law enforcement in the larger cities, particularly the ones near Texas borders.”
“We were just reading about that in the paper.” Ava picked up his bag and brought it inside. “But come in and take your boots off. I’ll get you some coffee. I just started a fresh pot.”
Foley leaned his rifle near the door and took off his utility belt. He sat on the couch where Ava had been sitting and removed his boots. “We’ve thinned out Markovich’s forces. His soldiers are mostly undisciplined new recruits. A much larger percentage of the experienced military personnel sided with the Alliance. In combat, our experience acts as a force multiplier. Markovich had us far outnumbered, but we’re beginning to even things up, little by little.
“Now that his military is getting thinned out, he’s resorted to utilizing the Mexican gangs. They provide him with a not-so-well-trained yet excessively-violent pool of warriors. And they work for cheap. What’s more, I can’t see an end in sight to his potential supply of ruffians.”
“But you’ve taken back Idaho and Liberty. The southern Alliance States are secure. Why can’t we get a definitive victory?” Ava felt frustrated over the deadlock.
Foley leaned back. “It’s a catch 22. If we push Markovich too hard, he’ll take this war to the next level.”
“You’re talking nuclear,” Ulysses said.
Foley nodded.
“So what?” Ava sat down on the couch by her husband. “We’ve got nukes, too.”
Foley shook his head adamantly. “If we start popping off nukes in our own backyard, no one will survive. There will be nothing left of America but the cockroaches.”