Gratitude

by P. S. Power

  “The kids can stay here with us, while we clean up. Then we’ll all go to the hospital. I’m sort of a professional at this. Trust me, waiting here will actually be nicer than at the hospital. Besides, by the time they see him and he’s out of testing, you’ll have been sitting there for three hours anyway. It’s the nature of the beast.”

  That got Doctor Kenders to call back, her eyes on her husband as they moved toward the door.

  “That sounds about right. Oh, Allison, here let me get the car keys.” That meant letting go and emptying Blake’s pockets, as the whole thing kept moving. They were tossed back, and Lucas caught them, handing them over to his sister, finally getting up. He followed the cart for a bit, until it got to the door, which had been propped open.

  Shutting it, so the chill of late November didn’t fill the entire room, he turned and shook his head.

  “Will he really be all right?” He was looking at Daniel, who did his stone-faced Indian impression for a moment and then nodded.

  “He will. This was pretty mild. That doesn’t mean there can’t be complications, but Brickston is a fine facility, and the event seems to be over. Most people just write this kind of thing off and have two or three more before they realize what’s going on. Like I mentioned before, it could just be heartburn. I like his odds.” It was said in that careful doctor’s fashion, not really saying it was all going to be peachy, but trying to be positive. It was meant to cover the doc’s behind in situations like this, since grieving families were a lot more likely to sue than not if they thought everything was going to be fine and a loved one died suddenly.

  In a case like this, where it really should be fine, it made it sound an awful lot like something horrible might go wrong on a whim.

  She spoke up then, because the kids deserved to know the truth.

  “Don’t worry, that’s just doctor for, yes, he’s fine. If it wasn’t the case we wouldn’t have kept you here for slave labor. As poor as we’re going to do at it, all being injured like this. I blame the whipped cream.” She said it as a joke, but Benny made a face.

  “You do realize that we have most of a full dispenser chilling in ice on the desert table, don’t you? It’s why it took me so long to get out here originally, I couldn’t imagine that they’d gone through it already. I checked. We have five pies left too. Stupid drunk. If he would have just been polite he probably would have walked out of here with more pie than he could eat. Now he has to sit in jail, with no pie, no whipped cream and a headache.” There was a funny head shake with it, which, she realized after a second, was actually meant to be humorous. “Now we’re going to have to eat it all ourselves, to keep it from spoiling. Too bad, I lost all that weight recently too.”

  Allison didn’t get it, and was still limping a bit when she stood up.

  “Oh, like a low carb thing? That’s what guys like to do isn’t it? No bread or pasta?”

  Benny looked at the girl and made a silly face, then shook his head, looking away for a moment, then returning her eye contact firmly.

  “I… sort of meant having my leg blown off by an IED. Low carb works too. I should have thought of that one first, now that you mention it. I’ll give it a try next time.” Then, without making anything seem awkward at all, he tossed a wash cloth to Allison and smiled. “Come on. Don’t let a little thing like a limp stop you. It’s only pain, and we need to get things taken care of and clean before we can leave. So, girl, limp faster. You too Chief Runs-Amok. Mush.” He made little whipping motions in the air, as Daniel chuckled a bit.

  “Here I’ve been calling him Captain Red Face in my head the whole time. You know, swooping in to save all the innocent Natives from their oppressors? All he needs is a cape. I can’t wait to see how the tribal councils decide to take that little ‘demonstration’ of yours earlier. I’m guessing that it’s a fifty-fifty split. Half will condemn your cultural insensitivity, and half will proclaim you the great white brother, come to save us all. Or at least get that you’re just a kid, and didn’t mean any harm.”

  Lucas pointed at Dan and smiled, then winced.

  “Which is a thing that I’m very thankful for. That last one, if you know anyone and can pull some strings?” He waited for a bit, and then looked at Jen, his head tilting just a bit, as if he was actually curious.

  “Say, what are you thankful for Jen? I mean after being thrown into a counter, hitting your head and being stuck with two kids you don’t know for the afternoon?”

  Jen thought about it for a second, and then stood up, feeling just a bit woozy.

  “Why, pie, of course.” Then she steadied a bit, which was a good thing, “My loving husband, a chance to help people, and that all of you came today to lend a hand. But mainly it’s pie. We have five left you say, Ben?”

  She was kidding to lighten the mood, but she really meant it.

  Pie sounded pretty good, just about then.

  Chapter seven

  Allison

  It really should have taken a lot less time to get the food kitchen cleaned up. They were down several people though, and Allison felt a sense of panic flowing through her, in a way that left her feeling tense and edgy. Everything that day had been a disaster. Daniel, the cute Native American Doctor that was running things had tried to make it sound like a win, as if they’d come together to do something important, but the truth was, it had been a huge failure.

  Her father was in the hospital and probably dying from a blood clot or heart failure. She just knew it would be something like that. She’d watched television after all, and all the shows pointed out how that went, didn’t they? Everyone told you that it would be all right, then as soon as they go to the hospital, boom, they died.

  She didn’t want her dad to die.

  He wasn’t allowed. It was a rule that she was pretty certain she’d stated out loud before, at least once, and maybe more than that.

  Her little brother was trying to get things done, working steadily, but he was acting funny. His face was black and blue on the left side, from where that drunken bum had been hitting him. That part was… Okay, that part had almost been cool. Not Lucas being beaten, since he wasn’t that big of a pain in the butt, most days, but the fact that he’d jumped that man that had been attacking Jen like he had. Without even hesitating. It wasn’t the kind of thing she would have expected from him. Maybe that he’d have stood back and called out for everyone to react with peace and love, but not fighting.

  The kick that she’d gotten to her thigh was going to leave a bruise too. It still hurt, even an hour later, as she limped around, attempting to get things back to the kitchen area for Benny to pack up. He was moving better than she was too. The Marine only had one leg, and he wasn’t letting that stop him at all. Worse than that, he wasn’t letting her injury stop her. It was almost as if she were supposed to draw a comparison between their situations, or at least not want to be shown up, what with her two nearly good legs. It was kind of working too. Damn the man.

  “Keep going. We’re nearly done. Another hour or two, tops.” He said it with a smile and winked at her, which was at least friendlier than he’d been earlier in the day. She’d tried to flirt with him, and he’d acted like she wasn’t even there.

  Allison had figured that she was either too ugly for him, or, just possibly, too young. That last one was true after all, but a little flirting wasn’t illegal, was it? Most men she met at least looked at her a little, even if they were elderly perverts that should know better. That Ben hadn’t was odd.

  Now though she had to wonder if it was really about his leg. The missing one. That had to be hard, and he might have thought that he wasn’t good enough for her, being damaged like that. From what she’d heard, and it hadn’t been a lot, he was just now recovering from the wound and getting used to having his fake leg. In a few days he was going back to the Middle East too. That would no doubt be freaky for him. Beyond scary, returning to the place where so much pain had happened.

  If it were her, she wo
uldn’t have gone. Then, she wouldn’t have signed up in the first place. People died in war, and while a brave thing to do, it was pretty clear that all being brave got you was wounded.

  Jen, Daniel’s blonde, and far too cute wife, just sat, watching them all work. She might have a concussion, so that was fair. Really it was needed. Having her collapse and injure herself even more than the drunk had done wouldn’t help anything at all. Then Ali would feel bad and have to cry and carry on, so that everyone knew about it. Otherwise she’d seem all cold and distant. Like her mom normally did.

  Jen grimaced.

  “I should be helping…” She even sounded genuinely worried that she wasn’t. Allison made herself look pleasant, which wasn’t going as far as a real smile, but managed not to be mean or sneering. She was scared about her father, but not mad at the woman for anything.

  “No, you really shouldn’t. We should have had eight more volunteers here, and that guy should have just waited for ten seconds for you to call the freaking ambulance, but right now, you need to sit, and not die on us.” She threw up a hand, her face going hard. “And yes, I know you won’t die from a mild concussion, but this whole thing was stupid. If my parents had listened to me, we would have been at home, and I bet a lot-” No one interrupted her little rant, or even tried to correct her, but she stopped anyway, and shook her head, remembering what her mother had said earlier.

  “I guess I’m really not feeling the ‘spirit of the holiday’. Here I thought I was doing so well to start with, too. This whole day isn’t leaving me a lot to be thankful for though, is it?” Okay, so she was being a little pouty, but she was right, wasn’t she? As holidays went, Thanksgiving was the stupidest one. Even Arbor Day had you out planting trees, which actually made a difference to the world.

  On Christmas people gave gifts and at least pretended to come together. On Halloween, kids at least finally got some candy. Besides, there were all those ghosts and demons to avoid that night, if the legends were to be taken seriously. She didn’t, but it was fun to pretend. The Fourth of July they always had a picnic and waved flags, then watched the big fireworks display.

  What was Thanksgiving really about?

  Other people telling you that you had better be grateful, oh, and now let’s go and eat until we can’t stand, and get drunk, so we can complain about whipped cream and attack random people? What a brilliant thing to form a tradition around.

  Maybe that last one was being too specific, but she smiled and shook her head, even as Jen and Lucas stared at her.

  She sighed, and then limped out to the dining room to finish clearing and cleaning all the tables. It took a while and the floor needed to be swept and mopped, still. She didn’t know where that kind of thing would be kept, and only had a vague idea how it was done, so when she had the chairs all stacked neatly along one plain and undecorated wall, and the tables cleaned off, she headed toward the kitchen, to ask.

  Benny had been working hard and was using the mop himself, finishing up his part of things a lot faster than she had. Allison smiled, knowing it looked fake, and pointed.

  “That’s what I need. The broom too?”

  Pointing briefly at the far wall, which was slightly behind her and to her left, Benny spoke calmly. It sounded almost peaceful.

  “There. You know, I heard what you were saying earlier, and you were right.” He stopped working and stared at her, in a way that either meant they were going to be fighting soon, or kissing. At least in her experience.

  She tensed a bit, and got ready for what was really coming, which would, no doubt, be a lecture. Because what were the odds that the guy was going to start making out with her now, after the day they’d had?

  “You were wrong, too. It’s good for us to think about what we have, from time to time, because it forces us to realize that others don’t have the same things. When I was in the hospital, crying about how I lost my leg, thinking my life would be over, I had a wakeup call one day.” He paused and started mopping again, which was slightly awkward, since he was limping and walking backward at the same time. He got the job done though.

  “It wasn’t what you would have thought either. I mean there were a lot of people that were hurt worse than me there. One guy was just a torso, with some little stubs coming off of it. That didn’t make me feel grateful for being alive or anything, just bad for him. No, it was while I was watching television one day, and this moron came on a news show, trying to convince people that the President was an Islamic spy, put in place by the Russians. It was then that I realized what I was grateful for.”

  He didn’t go on, and just mopped, meaning she was supposed to ask. She hated it when people did things like that. It was manipulative, and made her feel stupid, like she couldn’t possibly know the answer. Rolling her eyes, she took a guess.

  “You felt grateful that you weren’t a dumbass?”

  The Marine smiled, and stopped again, looking at her.

  “Pretty much exactly that. I realized that I have a good brain, the ability to work hard, and the will to persevere. That moron on that show taught me more than he could ever imagine in those few moments. By being an example of what not to be. Now I don’t know if he was lazy, and wouldn’t persevere, he probably would, if he’d made it all the way to T.V. to spout off garbage like that, but it worked. That’s why I’m here right now.”

  He watched her closely, which meant she felt small suddenly. She’d had a bit of a bad day, but her leg wasn’t gone, just a bit sore. Everything that Ben had to feel thankful for, she did. In fact she had more, and here she was, acting like a little girl.

  She shook her head, not disagreeing, but still not feeling all that wonderful. She really needed to get Lucas and herself to the hospital. It was nagging at her, because, well, bad things happened if you weren’t there, didn’t they?

  “You’re cleaning the floor of a rundown soup kitchen, instead of eating a nice meal and watching a parade, because you’re feeling all good about what you have?”

  “No, I’m here doing this, because I realized that some people have it a lot worse than me. That’s the real point of the day. To make you feel guilty about how good you have it, so that you’ll get up off your behind and remember to give something back occasionally. It normally doesn’t work that well, since most people are pretty selfish, but I think that’s the actual meaning of all this.”

  She scowled. It was clear he was trying to distract her, rather than make her mad, but she couldn’t love the message he was sending her.

  “Wait, you seriously think that it’s really about guilt? As my Social Studies teacher Mr. Morris always says, ‘I’m going to need you to back that one up.’ I’m pretty sure that no one would really want you to feel guilty like that.”

  He blinked, and shook his head.

  “Then you miss, have never met my mother. Look, guilt isn’t always a horrible thing. Not if it gets you to take action and help people. Humans are lazy, selfish and a bit too into ourselves, as a rule. Thanksgiving is a time for us to reflect on that, and once we see what’s going on, if we can, to change ourselves and try to become better.” Mopping again, the wounded man shrugged. “Or maybe I’m making too big of a deal out of things. Still, we have a pretty sweet deal in life, and yeah, sometimes things suck, but in the main, we have enough. We can share our time and effort with other people and all that. If nothing else it’s a sign that you have enough hope to still care.”

  Allison looked away and then back at the man, who was, as she’d just pointed out, spending his time helping people he didn’t even know. She was off school that day, but he was going back to war soon, and that made his time more valuable than hers too. Much more.

  “I guess. I’ll think about that. Don’t expect much. I’m a spoiled princess you know. Forced into this violence and servitude by my parents, to teach me humility. Or whatever it is they thought it would be. Fear comes to mind. Do you know how many times in my life drunks have beaten up my little brother and then kicked me
?”

  Benny shrugged.

  “None? That guy kicked you and then your brother was on him. You got that right? He took on a guy a good head and a half taller than he was and forty pounds heavier, because he’d hit you. I’m not saying he wouldn’t have done the same if he’d been going for Jen, but that’s what happened.”

  “I thought you said that you were busy in the back and didn’t see it.”

  “Well, I lied a bit. I was hurrying out, but I slipped. The new leg isn’t quite right yet. I’m trying to get used to it, but I think it needs some more work. I saw enough to get that though. Now that guy needs help. He couldn’t even be bothered to find the large dispenser of whipped cream. Moron.” There was a hard look then, and he shook his head. “We can’t let things like that scare us into not taking action. Yeah, it’s hard, but if you and I don’t do things like this, who will?”

  She didn’t even need to think about that one.

  “Well, duh. Lucas and Daniel, obviously. They’re probably out front planning the menu for the next one of these things already. That, or some kind of campaign to give people food during the non-holiday seasons. I hear those are always slow that way. People forget to donate anything. I know I never think about it.”

  Benny waved at the broom again.

  “There, I’ll bring out the bucket with clean water in it. About ten minutes? I want to go over this again. You can tell that civilians have been cooking in here for a long time. The place has grime on top over several other layers of crud. Then, I’m picky that way. You learn to be, in the service.”

  Grabbing the broom, Ali took it to the other room and slowly got to work. Oh, she tried for fast, but that didn’t happen. She was still too tense, and limping too much for real speed. Lucas did better, but needed to get to the broom next, just about the time that Benny had the mop bucket out. Her brother was working the serving area, which had its own special charms, even if the space was smaller. There were the steam tables to clean and those took a lot of extra care, since particles of dinner always managed to find their way down into the water.