by Leslie Gould
Zane groaned.
“So, seriously,” Simon said, “what’s to eat around here?”
“Well . . . ” Zane pointed to his sling. “I’m not going far in this thing.”
“And how exactly does a sling inhibit your ability to use your legs?” Simon laughed. “You’re just afraid to ride with me, right?”
“Exactly. There’s a cafeteria down the hall.”
Simon groaned. “No way. We’re going somewhere.”
Simon started for the door. When Zane didn’t follow, he turned back and said, “Are you coming or not?”
Zane shrugged and followed his friend.
Thanks to driving Tim’s tractor, Simon had the shifting down on the Toyota Camry he’d borrowed. The signaling, steering, and braking were another matter.
As Simon took a turn too sharply, Zane gasped. Simon laughed as he straightened out the wheel. “Shot in Afghanistan, but done in by a former Amish kid’s driving.” He grinned. “I figured you’ve been bored and needed a little excitement.”
Zane exhaled. “Bored. Right.”
Simon turned sharply into the parking lot of a pizza place. “How’s this?”
“Great,” he said. “As long as I don’t have to ride another minute with you.”
“Better watch out. I just might make you go all the way back to Virginia with me.”
As they walked toward the front door, Simon pulled out his phone and started a text. Zane patted his pocket. He’d left his phone in his room. Not that he had anyone to text anyway.
He increased his stride as Simon slowed down. “Who to?” Zane asked.
Simon grinned again. “Mandy.”
“You two pretty serious?”
Simon shrugged. “As serious as a soldier and a Mennonite girl with a dad can be.”
Zane’s stomach fell. It held more promise than a soldier and an Amish girl with a dad.
Simon ordered a medium pizza, all for himself, while Zane ordered a single piece. “How’re you gonna get your strength back? That wouldn’t even make a chicken full,” Simon said as they filled their cups at the fountain.
“I had a big breakfast,” Zane lied.
When they’d settled into a booth, Simon leaned across the table and said, “So tell me what happened.”
Zane gave him the short story.
Simon whistled. “You shot two dudes? No one told me that.”
Zane frowned. “One died.”
“Yeah, but you saved a little boy. And the soldier, your brother, right?”
Zane didn’t really consider Grant a brother, but yeah, Zane might have saved his life. And Simon was right about the boy.
“The bad guys shot first, right?”
Zane nodded.
Simon’s eyes shone. “So it was purely self-defense.”
“I was there to build relationships with the Afghan people. Not kill them.”
“You’re in the U.S. Army, dude,” Simon said.
“Lots of people make it through without having to kill anyone.”
“But it was kill or be killed.”
“Yeah,” Zane said. “But I still feel rotten.”
Simon shook his head. “I don’t get it. You had to keep your brothers safe. That’s your number one priority, right?”
Zane sighed. “I’m just glad I won’t have to go back—at least I doubt I will.”
“How can you live with yourself, not wanting to go back?”
“How can I live with myself, having taken a life? What if I have to take another?”
“You’ll be fine,” Simon said, “because you’re saving the lives of the good guys. I wouldn’t hesitate to take someone down if they were shooting at me or my brothers.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” Zane replied. He hadn’t hesitated either, but he’d never shared Simon’s bravado.
“So how’s the family?” Zane asked, trying to change the topic.
“Fine, I think. Daniel won’t say it, but I’m guessing he and Jenny will get married in November.”
“Any other upcoming weddings?” Zane asked.
Simon shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
Zane forced himself to continue. “What about Lila?”
Simon pursed his lips together and said, “What makes you ask?”
“I got a letter from her. While I was still in Afghanistan. She said she couldn’t write to me anymore, and I figured that meant she was getting married.”
“Nope. In fact she and Reuben aren’t courting anymore.”
Zane involuntarily jerked back against the booth, bumping his shoulder. He squelched a cry of pain and instead sputtered, “What?”
A smile crept across Simon’s face. “Yeah, I don’t know what happened exactly. Daniel just said that Dat was upset.”
“When did it happen?”
“Maybe a week or two before you got shot. Something like that.”
The server called their number, and Simon went to get the food. Zane leaned back in the booth. Had she and Reuben broken up before she wrote the letter? But if so, why did she write it?
Simon returned and slid Zane’s plate toward him. “Eat up.”
Zane still didn’t have the hang of eating with his left hand, but he was getting better. He took a bite.
In no time Simon finished his first slice of pizza and picked up a second. He’d filled out even more in the last few months. He was definitely going to be a big man.
Simon held the pizza in midair. “You should call Lila,” he said.
“Why?”
Simon narrowed his eyes. “Why do you think?”
“I have no idea,” Zane answered.
He grimaced. “Because you two care about each other. And you are both too cowardly to do anything about it.”
Zane’s eyes began to burn, and for a second he was afraid a tear might escape, but he swallowed hard. Simon was wrong. Lila didn’t love him. “It doesn’t matter how we feel about each other. There’s no future for us, even if she really did break up with Reuben. She’s joined the church. It’s hopeless.” Zane swallowed again. “So just knock it off, would you?”
Simon stood and leaned across the table and cuffed Zane on his good arm, jarring his whole body. Pain shot through his bad shoulder again, but he didn’t let on that it hurt.
“No, Zane Beck,” Simon said, still standing. “You knock it off. You’ve been a whiny mess for the last three years because of my sister. It’s been pathetic to watch. If you love her, why don’t you tell her?”
“I did.”
Simon dropped back down onto the bench with a thud. “Three years ago? When she was seventeen?”
Zane stared Simon down, not responding.
Finally Simon said, “Maybe it’s time you tell her again.”
Zane bristled. “I told her in my letters that I cared about her, and that I had loved her.”
Simon raised his eyebrows. “So . . . past tense?”
Zane nodded.
“You’re pathetic.”
Zane swallowed. “You think I should just call her? Leave a message on the barn phone for your Dat to hear? That would go over big.”
Simon picked up another piece of pizza. “Daniel said he plans to come see you next weekend. Maybe she’d come with him.”
“She didn’t want to come with my folks.”
“After you begged her to come?” Simon’s nostrils flared. “Because I heard that you told her to stay home.”
Obviously the Amish grapevine was still working, even though Simon wasn’t Amish, even though he didn’t have the details quite right. But in a way it still comforted him. Lila was talking, to someone, about him.
“Did she call you?”
“Yeah, she did. After your mom and dad saw you.” He shook his head. “You’ve got to have some faith,” Simon said. “Take it a step at a time. Pray about it. Talk to her. See what happens.”
“Did you get all this newfound wisdom from Uncle Sam?”
“Nah.” He grinned again, back to his happy-go-l
ucky self. “It’s what Mandy and I are doing. We have no idea how everything is going to work out—just this feeling that it might.”
Zane was sick to death of feelings. He wanted something tangible. Something real.
A week later, Zane breathed out as he tried to relax in the yoga class, listening carefully to the instructor, trying his best to balance his Warrior II pose—which looked nothing like the real warriors he’d seen—with one arm in a sling. The Army was doing its best to provide alternatives to pain meds. Zane remembered his dad being on opiates for a really long time after he returned from Iraq and was thankful he wouldn’t have to be. They were already weaning him off.
He yawned. He’d woken up in a cold sweat the night before and couldn’t get back to sleep. He’d been beside the wall of the village, scrambling to get to the little boy. But he couldn’t. The boy kept moving. The bullets kept coming.
He yawned again.
“That’s all for today,” the instructor said to him and the fifteen other soldiers. “We’ll start back up on Monday.”
He’d start physical therapy on Monday too. Three weeks of it, and then he’d have some time off—at home, he guessed. Then he’d see what his future held.
He’d started down the hallway back to his room when he heard Daniel call out his name. They were early. He turned around, nodding at Daniel and then looking past him. Jenny was a few feet behind him. At first he didn’t see anyone else, but then Lila stepped around the corner.
His heart raced.
There was an awkward moment when Daniel stuck out his hand and then realized Zane couldn’t shake it—not with his right hand, anyway. Zane did with his left though, and Daniel relaxed a little.
“Hi, Zane,” Jenny said. Her smile was kind and caring.
He returned the greeting and then, his voice a little shaky, said, “Hello, Lila.”
“Hi,” she answered, her voice soft. Her blue eyes were as clear as ever. She wore a sapphire sweater over her dress and apron. For a moment their eyes locked. She didn’t smile or give anything away. Nothing at all. Perhaps she’d only come because she felt sorry for him. Then Daniel cleared his throat and Zane said, “We could sit in the lobby.” It was only 11 a.m. Not time for lunch. “Or go for a walk.”
“Stretching my legs sounds good,” Daniel said, glancing at the girls. They both nodded. As they headed toward the exit, Daniel said they’d hired a driver to come to Maryland. “It was super hard giving up my pickup,” he said, quietly. “And worse to have to ride with someone else—who was all freaked out by the traffic around here.”
“I can imagine.” Zane lowered his voice. “I’m also guessing it will be worth it—giving up your truck, I mean.”
Daniel’s face reddened a little, and then he smiled and said, “I suspect so.”
Zane’s heart skipped a beat, aware of Lila walking behind him, of the swish of her skirt as they headed down the corridor to the front door. His heart began to ache, but then Daniel asked him how his shoulder was doing and the girls stepped up so they could hear.
Lila still walked next to him as they triggered the front door to open, but then his left hand brushed against hers, and she stepped away. He slowed down, allowing her to exit the building first.
Zane guided them toward the peace garden, but as they neared it Daniel spotted a coffee kiosk and said he wanted to grab a cup. “Anyone else want one?” he asked.
“I’ll go with you,” Jenny said.
Zane pointed down the pathway. “We’ll be this way.”
Neither he nor Lila said a thing as they walked. When they reached a small garden, Zane pointed to a bench and hoped Lila couldn’t tell his good hand was shaking.
After they both sat, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked, keeping his head down, thinking maybe she was going to apologize for the letter.
“For your injury.” She paused. “How are your wounds, really?”
“The back of my head is fine.” He turned a little so she could see the scab where the bullet grazed it. “And they say my shoulder should heal up. I might have some lasting tissue damage, maybe some messed-up nerves, but I’ll make it.”
“How about on the inside?”
He swallowed hard and peered behind her, to see if Daniel and Jenny were coming toward them. They weren’t. Chances were they planned to give him and Lila some time alone.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” she said.
“No,” he managed to say. “I’m glad you did.” He wanted to take her hand. More than that he wanted her to take his. “I killed someone,” he said.
She nodded. “I know.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I prayed you wouldn’t have to, the whole time you were over there.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I don’t know why God didn’t answer that prayer.”
“But the man might have killed you. Or another soldier. Or the little boy.” She sounded like Simon, minus the bravado.
“Yeah,” Zane said. “Maybe. But I’ll never know for sure.”
“You did what you had to do.”
He nodded. It helped to hear her say it.
“But I’m still sorry, Zane.” It had been so long since he’d heard her say his name. “I know the wound on the inside is worse than the one in your shoulder.” She inched a little closer to him but didn’t touch him. “I’d like to hear what happened, if you want to tell me, from you.”
He started with waiting by the wall—after he read her letter. He wasn’t ready to tell her that part yet. After he’d gone through the whole story, including the part the quilts and blankets played, clear to when he woke up and found he’d been rushed into surgery because of a bleed, tears filled Lila’s eyes.
“That’s when I found out that Benham had died. He was talking in the helicopter, and then I thought he was going to be all right. Casey—” He paused. “She’s a woman in my unit.”
Lila nodded.
“She said the bullet nicked his lung and it collapsed before they knew what had happened.” Zane looked down at the ground. “They tried to save him, but it was too late.”
Lila put her hand on his good shoulder and left it there. It felt warm and comforting.
He raised his head. “Why did you come?”
“Simon told Daniel you wanted to see me.” She met his eyes. “And I wanted to see you. I wanted to come with your parents. . . . I just wasn’t sure.”
He inhaled sharply, grateful for her brothers and their meddling. “Simon told me you broke up with Reuben.”
She nodded. “I did.”
“Why?”
“That’s what I meant when I wrote about being dishonest.” She paused for a moment, her eyes holding his gaze. “Did you get that letter?”
He nodded. “Right before . . .”
She grimaced. “I hadn’t been honest with Reuben. I kept telling myself love was a commitment, because I was trying to please everyone who wanted us to marry—but in the end I realized I needed more than that. That it wasn’t fair to him or to me. He deserves someone who truly loves him.”
Zane felt as if he’d just had his first drink of water after being in a desert for three years. Lila was talking to him. Telling him how she felt. He started to reach for her hand but stopped. He didn’t want to scare her away.
She glanced away, toward the children’s playground. “I couldn’t marry someone I couldn’t talk to. Someone I didn’t love. Especially when I love someone else.”
For a moment he hoped he was the someone else, but then his heart fell. Simon had been wrong. Lila would never leave the church for him. She didn’t love Reuben—she loved someone else who was Amish. Nothing had changed, not really.
“Who is it?” he asked.
She returned her gaze to him again. “What?”
“Whom do you love?” He didn’t like the harsh tone that had seeped into his voice, but there it was. And as much as he tried not to, he was afraid he s
ounded bitter. Why couldn’t he just be her friend? Just treasure the time he had with her instead of always feeling as if it weren’t enough.
She stared at him, her eyes boring into his. Finally she said, “Who do you think?”
“I have no idea.”
“Don’t be a jerk,” she said. Then she looked past him and said, “There’s Daniel and Jenny.”
Zane exhaled as she stood. He wasn’t sure how he’d done it. But he’d definitely messed things up, once again.
20
Lila marched away from Zane, not sure if he was following or not. She’d forgotten how intense he was. Worse now than ever.
But she hadn’t meant to call him a jerk. It came out of her mouth before she could stop it.
Keeping her focus on her twin, she continued forward until Daniel and Jenny, disposable coffee cups in their hands, ducked into a building as if they were trying to evade her. She stopped, flustered. She didn’t want to go back and face Zane.
Mandy had shown her his Facebook page just last night. Casey had tagged Zane in more photos of her and him together, and then she’d posted that he’d been injured. Prayers appreciated, she’d written. He’s the best friend a girl could ever have, and the best soldier I know.
Zane was probably asking whom she loved so he could break it to her that he and Casey were together. Why had he written to her? Why had she agreed to write him back? Why had he told Simon he wanted to see her?
Zane stopped behind her and cleared his throat.
He’d almost been killed. He was still wounded, both in body and in spirit, and she had just called him a jerk and then stomped off as if she were thirteen again.
Lila turned around. Zane was three feet away from her. “I’m sorry,” she said.
He frowned a little. “I probably deserved it.”
“No, you didn’t.” She nodded back toward the park. “Can we try again?”
They didn’t return to the bench but instead walked on toward a circle of pathways made of bricks.
“What’s this?” Lila asked.
“A labyrinth. The idea is that you pray as you walk around in it.”
That’s what she did walking through the field, down to the creek.
“So,” she said. “Could you tell me one thing?”