by Alice Moore
“What made you pick her?” I’d never been much of a pet person, and I couldn’t figure out why Caroline would pick one dog over another. The smile that crested her cheeks was reminisce and fond, and I held my breath as anticipation replaced blood in my veins.
“She was going to be put down because she was very violent and disobedient. The day I went to the kennels was actually the last day she was supposed to be there. She’d failed her certified training courses twice- I guess they did it twice because she’s super smart… But- yeah- I went down the line and they all seemed like good dogs, you know? But I wanted more than a pet. And I get to the end, and there’s a door where they keep the bad ones. I can see her through the little window, and she looked at me… and I just knew. I knew she was the one for me. The officers at the kennel told me she couldn’t be adopted out, but I went back there, and Kiki wasn’t even nervous or anything. It was like we were meant for each other. One of the officers tried to take my shoulder, and she went crazy. Broke through a corner of the fencing and nearly took his arm off.”
“My dad was so pissed when we got home. Kiki hates his guts and he can’t understand why. He threw a fit that last an entire week before realizing I wasn’t taking her back. Then, I spent six or seven months training her on top of her Naval training. And this was the result.” Caroline’s anecdote came to a close, and I rested my head back against my bicep to digest her story. She was pretty incredible to successfully train a military dog; their orders were ingrained in them from the moment they were born.
Then again, she was probably smart about it and didn’t try to rewrite the dog’s brain, just add onto it.
“That’s a crazy story. When I was in the Marines, I had a partner who had a dog. That thing was fucking terrible. It shed everywhere and ate all of our helmets at least once.” A low, humorless chuckle escaped my lips, and I frowned into space as Caroline’s gaze bored into my cheek. “That piece of shit… Any normal service dog would’ve smelled the IED… we weren’t even going that fast. Next thing you know, the dog, my buddies, and the Humvee are splattered across the sand and on fire.”
“Did they die?” My leg ached at the question, and I reached to rub it hard with the butt of my palm. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I held it before letting my lungs deflate in a gust. Thinking of that day didn’t hurt much anymore, but my leg- fuck- my leg throbbed every time.
“Yeah. One of them. He sat right next to me. We couldn’t even find parts of his body. My CO is in a wheelchair- my XO is a fucking vegetable… And I’ve got this to remind me that shit happens.” Patting my thigh, I tossed my head to stare intently at Caroline’s face. Where I expected horror, pity, I only saw curiosity and pride. Just like when she woke up, she was surprising me.
“Would you go back if you could?” Slowly shaking my head, I lifted my water bottle to my lips only to pause. Tearing my eyes off Caroline, I frowned at the hard, plastic cap that closed the container. Forcefully twisting the top, I tossed the piece onto the coffee table with a grunt.
Talking about my service, even with a stranger, wasn’t difficult for me; it’d never been. As a veteran, you’re expected to talk about it. But I’d rather die than go through that again. Especially if it meant turning into Frank.
Caroline
Staring at the clock on the bottom of the News cast, I couldn’t even bring myself to blink under the crushing weight of boredom. My body buzzed and itched to move, but even shuffling my legs sent needles to attack my broken bones and abused muscles. It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since my conversation with James had ended, but I was already starting to go crazy.
Reaching for my camera, my fingers were stiff as they wrapped around the metal and plastic. It’s a shame I can’t leave this couch without help…
“You should take a nap if you’re bored, Caroline. It’s not like you can do anything else.” Casting a glare at James, I crossed my arms over my chest while he sniggered. “Don’t be like that. You’re the one that decided to break your ankle.”
“Can you not, please? I’m not tired.” Frowning deeply, I sunk into the couch to huff as James shook his head. “I’m not tired.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not much of a stimulating conversationalist.” Even a deaf person could hear the conversation tapering off, and I focused on the television even as my mind wandered. James had revealed some seemingly personal things, but I wasn’t naïve. My father took a piece of shrapnel to the face, and everywhere we went, people asked him about it.
But I wanted to know more about what gave James that tortured look on his face, and I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth to bite hard. Strangers were the best people to talk to because they had no bias; someone in high school told me that, and I’d never forgotten it.
“… Just ask already, Caroline.” Resignation weighed down James’ voice, and my heart jumped into my throat. “You already know why I’m out here, so what else is there?”
“… You just… you look… haunted- and not like most vets…” Haltingly I spoke up, and this time it was James turn to watch me. His intense, dark stare dug deep trenches along my jaw and cheek bone, and I pursed my lips into a thin line. The silence was deafening, and goosebumps rose on my skin the longer it dragged out.
“I’m not going to go psycho on you, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re perfectly safe even without Kiki.” James’ sigh tickled my arm, and discomfort festered in my gut as he shuffled in his seat. “I don’t really want to talk about it. One person is too many to know what I know.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry…” A million thoughts ran through my mind, but I knew they were comparable to adorable kittens to what he had experienced. He mentioned his friends being wounded- dying- without so much as a lilt in his voice, but this…
There was true fear and pain in his words. Creeping for my camera, my fingers twitched at the idea that something had scared James more than war. I carefully picked up the device, and when I glanced over, he still wore a dark expression. The mask he tried to build was faulty and already crumbling, and I brought my scope to my eye to capture it.
The shudder of my camera caused James to blink, and he scowled at me as I took a second picture. Through the lens, he looked meaner; there was a fire in his eyes I couldn’t see as clearly without help. Locked deep down, his emotions needed a magnifying glass to be seen.
“It’s not your fault. I did it to myself. Besides, you’ll be leaving in a day or two- there’s no reason for me to fuck up your life when I’m not even in it.” Gulping down the lump in my throat, I reached to adjust the lens as James’ lip twitched in a smirk filled with self-depreciation. “Just don’t publish these, and you can take as many as you want. I kind of want documentation for just how much I single-handedly fucked up.”
“You’re very photogenic. I don’t usually photograph people. I’ve won a few awards for my nature photography, though- so… it’s similar, I guess. It depends on the subject, too. Sometimes people that want to be photographed are very pretty in person, but not on a piece of paper.” Turning to me as I spoke, James stared dead down the lens with a stony look. There was no indication he was at all interested in what I had to say, but accomplishment blossomed in my chest regardless. My awards were nothing more than plaques, and small ones, but they were still incredibly hard to achieve.
“You said you publish under one of my brother’s photography firms, right? You do know he owns Sundance Photography Journal?” Nodding slightly, I lowered my camera before offering a response.
“Yeah. I’ve tried to get on that level, but they always reject me. Their focus is people and the places they inhabit, not animals. Life Perceived is the biggest wild life journal I could get into.” Holding back the truth sent a sick feeling into my gut, but my voice was steady. Truth be told, I wanted to break into Sundance since I started photography when I was a kid. The Journal was the premier; anyone in even their smallest features was guaranteed to be famous and highly sought after.
>
But Sundance only did three wild life journals in its entire 120 year history, and I hadn’t been alive for any of them.
“Is that why you’re out here? For a shoot for them?” Now that my camera wasn’t an obstacle between us, James’ curiosity was clear in his voice. Glancing over at him, I cracked a smile and nodded before he reached to scratch his cheek. “At least they’ll cover your medical bills when you eventually make it to a hospital. Do they pay well?”
“Yeah- I’ve been working for them since I was 16… it would’ve been longer, but my dad was deployed a lot when I was a kid. He would’ve had to be there for meetings and stuff, and when I turned 16 he just had a sign a piece of paper electronically. The head editor’s wife really likes me, so they buy a lot more than they do with other photographers.”
“That’s some crazy luck. What about your mom?” The conversation was so natural, and I frowned slightly at James’ question. I couldn’t imagine he was one to give pity, but my throat still clogged. I’d only ever discussed this with my dad, and this was ten times more uncomfortable.
“Eh… she’s in prison according to my dad. Fraud and federal tax evasion. From what I know, she and my dad had a one night stand, and she intentionally got pregnant to claim money and extort my dad. He was a pencil pusher until I turned 3 years old, and then the war broke out, so he hired a nanny and got sent east. He went back and forth until I turned 21 before he made his 20.” My mind filled with images, memories of video and phone calls that lasted precious minutes. Taking a shallow breath, I shook my head absently to push them away. “What about you- your parents, I mean?”
“Nick set them up. My dad was a real hard ass- he believed in corporal punishment like all the old people do. I always got this shit kicked out of me until he realized I wasn’t meant to be smart. So they’ve got Nick, the smartass businessman, and Ethan is the baby, and I did my 14 before being honorably discharged. But, to be honest, I really can’t stand my parents. They’re all about social propriety. I still get scolded for swearing in front of them.” Instantly my brain conjured images of gracefully ageing, incredibly entitled old people, and I smiled widely. Across the couch, James smirked, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Yeah- exactly.”
“My nanny- her name was Sheila- she let me cuss if I had a good reason. I remember-“ Pausing to chuckle at the tickle of a memory, I settled my camera in my lap to sigh. “I remember when my dad came home from a seven month deployment. I had just turned 13, and Sheila told me I could swear once for no reason. So, I saved it until the day he came home, and we’re in the terminal, and he sees me, and I see him- and I just belt out ‘fuck’ at the top of my lungs. Every single person in the terminal stared at me, and my dad just started laughing so hard he dropped his pack. It became a tradition after that.”
A choking laughter floated to me from James’ side of the sofa, and I grinned outright. Automatically lifting my camera to my eye, I snapped the amusement that cracked his stony façade. The slight upturn of his lip, the crinkle around his eyes, turned him into a different person, and I took a few more pictures before he managed to reign himself in. Swiping his hand across his jaw, he cleared his throat roughly with a jerk of his head.
“Your dad sounds like a natural Army dick. I knew a guy that transferred from Army to Marines. He was a fucking prick- just constant smart mouthing and spewing bullshit. Everyone hated him because he never shut up. He survived all that shit we went through overseas just to get killed by his pregnant girlfriend’s crazy ex.”
“So, it’s true? You guys bust each other’s balls constantly? Do you think that’s the reason Kiki doesn’t like my dad? Because he’s Army and she’s a Marine?” After a moment of thought James nodded, and I turned my gaze to my dog fondly. She was truly remarkable, and she stared back at me with knowing eyes.
“Did you ever consider enlisting?” James’ question caught me off guard, and I twisted to stare at him. Pursing my lips together tightly, I let out a breath through my nose before opening my mouth.
“I thought about being a war photographer, but I never wanted to be so busy. I like where I’m at right now. I think, if the opportunity presented itself, I would take it, though.” My response only got me a drawn-out grumble, and I shifted in my seat only to wince. Well and truly broken, my ankle throbbed wildly if I so much as flexed my calf. Leaning over to stare at the bandages around my feet, I grimaced at how swollen and purple my skin looked against the white.
“Here- let me take those off. I’ve got something around here to brace it since the bleeding should’ve stopped.” Pushing himself from his seat, James walked around the couch and into the kitchen to rustle loudly. It took him mere seconds to appear in front of me, and I stretched out my legs carefully as he sat on the coffee table. “Your right ankle isn’t that bad. You can walk on it in a week or two.”
Hissing as James lifted my ankle onto his thighs, I clenched my hands into tight fists. His large, callused hands were so gentle as they tackled the thin linen, but each whisper of a poke sent pain shocking up my leg. Gripping my borrowed pants, I ground my teeth together while he painstakingly slowly unwrapped my aching foot.
“You’re okay, Caroline. The bandages were tight to stop the bleeding, but it restricted blood flow. It’ll feel better in a minute.” Sweat beaded my upper lip, and I nodded furiously as James glanced at me. Taking a shallow, hard breath, I let it out harshly while the pressure on my ankle decreased. The relief was almost immediate before he’d even gotten all of the bandages off. Blood rushed to my toes, and I relaxed a little into the couch to throw my head back and close my eyes.
James
Gazing blankly at Frank as he stood, dominating my kitchen, I clenched my hands into fists. Every cell in my body screamed at me to back the fuck down in the face of his overwhelming, generally satanic feel. Now, for the first time, I was beginning to realize why everyone told me to stay away from him.
He could kill people with a look, and sweat slicked the nape of my neck as I held his dark, dangerous eyes.
“Frank, she needs a hospital or she’s gunna die.” My voice was rough, drowned out by the pained moaning coming from the back bedroom. For just a fraction of a second, I took my eyes off Frank, and he took that moment to advance. In a flash he was directly in front of me, massive and imposing, and I automatically took a step back. Jumping into my throat, my heart thundered hard to fuel muscles that would only be used to run away.
I was a little bitch when it came to Frank, and it took these past four months to realize that.
“I don’t care if she fucking dies. As long as the baby is okay. I spent too much fucking effort on my daughter to worry about that dumb bitch.” The woman only a wall away cried out in pain, and Frank’s face twisted in disgust before he whirled around to slam his fist on the table. “Fuck! Shut her up already!”
The booming call didn’t do anything to stop the muffled sounds squeezing through the cracks in the door, and I ground my teeth together. Frank’s bare muscles bulged and spasmed, the veins in his arms and neck becoming increasingly noticeable, and I made no attempt to open my mouth. Whirling around to face me, he took a threatening step forward before some invisible wall seemed to stop him- although I doubted anything could stop him right now.
“James, are you sure this doctor isn’t a fucking crackpot? Fuck- fuck… I’m going in there.” For the first time since we met I touched Frank, wrapping my clammy hand around his wrist to keep him from storming into the bedroom. His body jerked as if he wanted nothing more than to flip me on my back and beat my skull into my brain, and I tensed to lick my lips.
“Frank, man… you can’t go in. Trust me- Jessie is going to keep your baby alive. That’s her job, but just because she’s old doesn’t mean she’s bad. I’m telling you- let the doctor do her job. She knows to bring the baby to you.” My words of assurance brought bile up into my throat, and I carefully released my grip on Frank. He lost some of his threat at my reasoning, and I watched thr
ough narrowed eyes as he took a deep breath.
“I need her to be okay…” I knew Frank wasn’t talking about the woman he’d impregnated, and I nodded silently. His desperation rippled across my skin, and his eyes burned into the door to combat the sounds drifting through. “If she dies, you die- the doctor dies.”
Jerking up, I took a sharp breath as my dream rang in my ears, and my hand automatically went to my neck. Sweat caked my skin, tugging at me as I swiped my palm up my face and over my head. Even my hair was slick with sweat, and I glanced around the darkness of my bedroom as I struggled to catch my breath.
“Fuck… fuck…” Every time I blinked, I could see Frank’s face contorting with some fucked up version of adoration. The time between crashing waves of blood against my ear drums was filled with the sound of a newborn wailing. Blood and afterbirth wafted into my nostrils with each harsh inhale that filled my lungs, and I shook my head wildly to get rid of it all.
Throwing my legs over the side of my bed, I pushed myself up with a grunt to stumble towards the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye a ghost clung to the back bedroom door, and I squeezed my eyelids shut before yanking open the refrigerator. The cold air was soothing, and my body swayed towards it to cool my heated blood. Resting my forehead on the freezer door, I braced my forearm above my head to get my hand to stop tingling.
“Jesus Christ…” Of all the nightmares I’d had since that day a month ago, that scene had never been among the line-up. There were much more horrible things I’d seen than Frank freaking out over the birth of his daughter.
Like that woman detoxing for a whole week.
Like the several times Frank stood guard over her unconscious body after he knocked her out for threatening his baby.
Like Frank killing her with his own two hands after she started screaming for her baby.