by Mann, Aliza
Chapter 8
The thick and gloomy haze that consumed Jesse prior to his trip home had returned the following morning. This time, it was more vicious. Darkness collapsed against him, suffocating him in a dismal blanket of grief.
He hadn’t called Mavis even while every part of his psyche had implored him to connect with her, if only to confront her. He’d continually reminded himself that he wasn’t ready to commit, and that was something she needed. Something she mandated. Something he could not provide her. On his ride to Dr. Orwin’s office in the muggy morning air, he could not remember exactly why.
He drove through the neighborhood grappling with the reasons that his decision to remain single made sense. He needed to ensure that Mavis wouldn’t suffer if he died, or if he were to injured and left permanently disabled. She couldn’t need someone who she may very well end up having to care for indefinitely. He sped through intersections without regard to the stop signs while attempting to organize his position on becoming committed to Mavis, something that seemed so logical only a few days prior.
By the time he reached Dr. Orwin’s door, he was about to bubble over. His head hurt with so many thoughts, all of which brought him back to the possibility that he may be the person responsible for his heartache. It didn’t make sense. His stance was supposed to protect her from being hurt and ensure that he was able to move forward with his life without any guilt or concern about negatively affecting someone with his actions.
“Jessie. You’re early. Everything okay?”
“Yep. Why wouldn’t it be? I was already out and about this morning and decided to come a little early.” Jessie glanced around the porch nervously. He had always hated lying. He quickly stared down at his hands when the older man gave him a cynical look.
“Come in. Please.”
Jessie stepped into the cool air of the room. He hadn’t realized the blasting heat before that moment, and his sweat-soaked shirt chilled his body as it touched his skin.
Dr. Orwin turned and led him through the makeshift lobby into his office. “Have a seat, Jessie. You’re about fifteen minutes early, but I won’t start the clock until it’s time. I owe you a few minutes for our last session.” A chuckle followed his comment.
“I need to know how I’m supposed to deal with all this shit.” Jessie took a seat on the couch across from his psychiatrist, someone who offered his only emotional outlet.
“Well, you have several options. One is to seek the assistance of a professional, as you have both this week and last.”
“I mean, when I’m not here. How am I supposed to cope? Each day brings a new challenge for me. Last week, I had some hope, some inkling that I was doing the right thing. And today I just don’t know.”
“What brought on these feelings? Are they new, stemming from something that occurred stateside? Or feelings you’ve had for some time, while you were overseas?”
“Both. I had to shovel the bodies of my friends into sacks and help get them shipped back home after being blown to bits by random car bombs and insurgent attacks. Some of them, I had eaten dinner with and drank with back on base just hours before. Their wives had that sullen look of despair in their eyes when I came back before them. Their husbands are dead and I have the audacity to stroll up to them offering condolences.”
“How does that make you feel, Jessie?”
“Like some kind of asshole. And then, when all I want to do is spare someone that I . . . I just don’t want anyone that I know to have that look in their eyes one day.”
“Are you afraid?”
Jessie felt like he could spit. “Fuck no, I’m not afraid! I’m being responsible.”
“Maybe some people view that as selfish?” Dr. Orwin’s head tilted as he spoke. He held Jessie’s stare with intensity. There were no chuckles or twinkling eyes, only the stare of a knowledgeable man.
“I don’t see how they could. I would think I’m being thoughtful . . . maybe even unselfish. I’m denying myself any pleasure to be sure that no one is hurt by my actions.” Jessie stared down at his hands, balled into tight fists against the blue denim of his jeans. Fists that he wanted to use to punch through the wall. Instead, he relaxed his white-knuckled hands and pressed them along the tops of his thighs to remove some of the sweat from his palms.
“Won’t they be hurt anyway?” the doc asked. “If they love you, pushing them away won’t keep them from being hurt. If you exclude them from your life, you’ll find the same outcome. Plus, it only keeps you from enjoying living.”
“I thought you were just supposed to listen.” Jessie’s head began to hurt as he considered the possibility that had been presented to him.
“Well, we’re just talking. You’re early, and you aren’t officially under my care for another five minutes.” Dr. Orwin stood and crossed the room to his coffee maker, pouring him a cup. He motioned the mug in the air toward Jessie.
“Yeah, I’ll take a cup.” He looked toward the bureau that had a number of pictures on top. Some were tilted enough for Jessie to catch a glimpse of the smiling faces. Most of them were of Dr. Orwin and his late wife. A few were other people, some children and some adults. All had that familiar hazel eye color and brown hair that looked sun-kissed blond on the tips. They were canoeing and skiing; some were of summer days on a porch swing. Dr. Orwin was in each picture with his arms around each one person or another.
As Jessie reached for a steamy cup of coffee, he looked up at the older gentleman and saw a face with no regrets.
Dr. Orwin went back to his seat and surveyed Jessie once again.
“Did you see any action, Doc?”
“Action? Oh, yes. My goodness, I saw some action, as you say, every day. I would sit out in the bush with rain beating against my helmet convinced that I was going through some form of water torture. One minute, we were worried about being attacked and the next, we actually were attacked. Back then, I wasn’t the refined man you see before you. I was a rogue. Insistent on saving the world, doing good for my country. Things weren’t nearly as positive once you returned home as they are now. It was a constant struggle against society, against yourself, even. There was little hope. But once I had a moment to gather my wits, I knew that I had to follow my heart and trust that all would work out well. I went back to school, obtained one degree, then another, and finally earned a doctorate. I taught college courses for a little while, then took on patients. Mostly vets, and people like you who are in the middle of their career. It’s the middle that’s the hardest, you see. It’s those times where you usually find the crossroads. Which way can I go that isn’t backward? That’s the question you seek the answer to and find the most elusive.”
Jessie took a sip of his coffee and sat the cup and saucer on the table careful not to spill a drop.
“Not backward? I don’t think that’s my question. I think I’m trying to figure something else out. I don’t exactly know what, but that’s not it.”
“We’ve got time to figure that out, Jessie.”
“I don’t know about all that, either. That girl I was telling you about? She’s moving on with her life. And I want to stop her. She’s down on East Broadway hanging out with some guy. And I told her I couldn’t be with her, not like she wants, but now that it’s happened, she’s all that I can think about. I’m sick with it, Doc.”
Jessie watched Dr. Orwin’s facial expression. It didn’t change. He drank from his mug, resting his hand on the arm of his comfortable-looking rust-colored chair.
“Doc, I don’t want her seeing anybody else.”
“Can you tell her that? Will it make a difference? More importantly, is she what you desire?”
“You know, there were times while I was away, on patrol or sitting on base on those lonely days, I could see her face. It was like a living picture in my mind. She was clear and bright, shiny almost.
Then, when I wasn’t sure we would make it out, you know, during the dangerous times, I could imagine her with that folded flag on her lap, tears staining her cheeks. It cut me to the bone. I saw her in every widow’s face.”
“She already loves you.”
“I told her not to love me.”
“I think you know women better than that. She loves you and if you returned to Iraq today and something horrible happened, she would still be hurt, regardless of whether you were her husband at the time. Regardless of whether that flag is handed to her or your mother.”
“But she would survive.”
“You think she’s so weak that she couldn’t survive otherwise? And what if you can’t go back into service? What if I don’t clear you? I still have a lot of work to do with you here. The effects of war aren’t limited to physical wounds. We may have to work for years to undo the damage. What then?”
“I wouldn’t be whole then either. She still wouldn’t want that life.”
“And you asked her this?”
“I know. I just know that living with someone that is unavailable for one reason or another has got to be miserable.”
“The session is starting now, Jessie. Let’s focus on some of the things that make you want to control everything for everyone.”
“Where the hell did you get that from?”
“You. You seem to want to make everyone happy around you. You aim to control everything. What’s driving that need?”
Jessie sat back, shocked. He hadn’t thought of himself as controlling. He thought he was protecting people from being harmed. All of this was to protect the people he loved, whether he wanted to admit he loved them or not.
“I don’t want to control Mavis. I want her to be with me, but I can’t subject her to that.”
“And Mavis is your everything?”
“What?”
“I asked you why you want to control everything, and you responded that you didn’t want to control Mavis. Now I’m asking again, is she your everything?”
“My everything is the Corps. That’s what I’m here for, right? I don’t want you to twist my words around and make this something that it isn’t. Mavis is an element in my life that’s causing me grief. On top of trying to take a bullet for Antoine, and he still died!”
Jessie hadn’t spoken about his friend since he’d seen the base doctors. Antoine had pushed him aside at the very last minute. As far as Jessie was concerned, it should have been him. Antoine had a wife, a child, and everyone loved him.
Dr. Orwin sat in silence. He watched from across the short distance separating them, and Jessie couldn’t bear to look at him. The gentle doctor had to have known what had happened from the file that had been sent to him by Jessie’s superiors. They had sent him to see someone when he arrived back on base. The suggestion was made that he wasn’t fit for combat any longer. His guilt was going to eat him alive. At least that’s what Major Owens had told him.
“I stepped in front of him . . .” Nothing else to lose, since it’s out in the open now, Jessie.
Jessie took a moment to blink away the tears that burned in his eyes like pepper spray. “I saw the lights cutting through the darkness and yelled for everyone to get down. Antoine was grabbing the relief kit from the Humvee. A reporter was with us. After I pushed that damn cameraman into the sand, I turned and charged at Antoine. He pushed me down when I got to him. I rolled to the ground and glanced back in time to see the bullets cut into his flesh. Blood splattered everywhere. He was hit at least five times in the chest and neck.”
He paused, drawing a shaky breath, angrily swiping the tears from his face. “I-I threw my body over his as he hit the ground. And now everybody calls me a hero. He was the fucking hero. He saved my life. That reporter wrote the story all wrong. And no matter who I tell, who I correct, they all blow that bullshit out of their mouths. They still spew the lies. That fucking medal, I mailed it to his wife and she called to curse me out. Can you believe that shit? She says ‘He wouldn’t want you to do this. Honor his memory by keeping this commendation.’ I ain’t a hero. He was. And they can’t even see it.”
“You are a hero, Jessie. This discomfort you’re feeling with your medal, with others viewing you as a hero, perhaps it’s guilt. Are you feeling guilty that a good and brave man was killed? That no matter how much you tried to change the outcome, you feel as though you failed?”
Jessie couldn’t find any more words. He sat on the couch staring at his shaky hands. Unable to stand any more, he leaned forward, placing his head against his palms and shook with the kind of remorse that only deep-seated guilt could bring.
He cried for Antoine, and the family he left behind. He cried for his lost friends and so many others that died before him on the battlefields. His chest ached and he couldn’t seem to stem the flow of sobs racking his body. He was guilty. And Mavis was his everything. It wasn’t until that moment that he knew.
Despite all his efforts, the tears didn’t stop. He sat for the duration of the hour, letting it all pour from his soul. Dr. Orwin didn’t judge or attempt to console. He just watched as Jessie finally confronted the demons that chased him in the night.
“Jessie, it’s all right to feel guilt. But, Antoine’s wife is right. You have to ask yourself if he would have wanted you to stop living that day, alongside him. Was that his goal when he pushed you out of the line of fire, for you to stop living?”
After those words, he didn’t disturb Jessie again. They sat in silence, the memories of the men he left on the field burning into Jessie’s mind.
As he rode home, that question sat on the back of his motorcycle as a heavy passenger. It wasn’t until he turned the key to the ‘off’ position that he was finally able to answer it.
“No. I am not dead.” The words echoed across the carport and cut through the humid air leaving Jessie, for the first time since that horrible night, relieved.
Chapter 9
Jessie sat at the dining room table with the late evening sunset on the horizon. The whole of the day had passed, and was well into night by the time he worked up the nerve to call Mavis. He didn’t know how to begin. How to tell her he hadn’t meant to hurt her, or that he really wanted her to be a part of his life. He imagined himself saying that she needed to give him some time to work through his issues with trusting himself and allowing her in slowly, but each daydream turned into a screaming match in his mind.
Not that he had ever had one with her, but he had never fully committed to her in the past and explaining to her that he wanted to try but would need to move slowly would strike her, a slap across her delicate skin.
At eight p.m., he heard his mother returning from her weekly knitting circle, a fancy way of saying that four older ladies sat around and gossiped about everyone and everything that occurred in town. When she entered, he noted how athletic she looked in her navy blue jogging suit. She and her friends usually strode around the subdivision to get a little exercise before they settled into their chinwag session.
“Hey, son. I didn’t see you before you left this morning. You were up early.”
“Yeah. I had to get moving. Had some things to take care of.” He hadn’t divulged that he’d followed up on the call from the clinic, let alone that he had begun treatment. “When I came back, you’d gone knitting already.”
“Oh, okay.”
“So, how are you?”
“Typically well, son, typically well. You know I heard that Mavis has a little friend. Did you know about that?”
“Yep. She’s free to do as she pleases.”
“Well, you know I mind my own business, but I just would hate to see something bad happen to a person when it could be avoided.” Momma Jewell set her pocketbook on the table along with her basket of knitting supplies before going into the kitchen. “You want a sip?”
Jessie didn’t know which she was at the moment. Most likely, she was sad as she watched her potential for grandchildren slip from view.
“You know, I remember when I almost didn’t continue seeing your father.” She set the glasses on the table along with the half-empty fifth of rum. She must have been sad or angry quite a bit lately.
“I can’t imagine that. Dad was smooth, or at least he thought he was.”
For a moment, his mother rolled her eyes, then a flash on her face told of the fond memory that must have danced through her mind.
“He thought, so he thought. Anyway, I loved him from the day I laid eyes on him. He was so handsome. You look so much like him when he was your age. He was a ladies’ man, though. He didn’t want to settle down. My goodness, he was something else. So, I thought I best take my chances with Mr. Dermal. He was a hard worker and above all, he treated me like a queen.”
For a moment, she stared out the window as if she was contemplating something, rolling it over in her mind.
“I obviously know what happened—”
“Yes, of course I married your father. But it wasn’t until he had a sudden change of heart. One night, we were all at Lenore's wedding. I had accepted a date with Mr. Dermal. I knew that I wasn’t in love with him, but sometimes a woman has to cut her losses. Go with the best hand, you know? I was into all of one dance with him and here comes your father, stomping across the dance floor. He was red as a wagon and madder than a white-mouthed mule.” A guttural laugh escaped as she took a sip of her drink.