BEAST

by Pace, Pepper

  Ashleigh was put into contact with her ombudsman through the Department of Homeland Security and then she called Christopher’s family and tried to explain but they asked questions that no one had answers for. If he wasn’t on a mission then why didn’t he call? Why didn’t he come home Monday?

  Mrs. Jameson received a call later that evening promising that her son would be located within 72 hours. Ashleigh got out of bed in the middle of the night and hurried to the grocery store where she bought a gallon of Graeter’s Chocolate Chip Raspberry ice cream and a plastic spoon. She sat in her car and ate half of it.

  For three days she’d been binging on anything she could get her hands on, it didn’t even matter if it was food or a condiment. She suddenly threw the other half of the ice cream out the window and laid her head on her steering wheel feeling too defeated to even stick her finger down her throat to throw up.

  ~***~

  Christopher distantly remembered the familiar pain. He’d experienced it before hadn’t he? But when? He tried to move but forgot why he should. The pain stopped dancing around as long as he lay very still. Christopher fell asleep…or something that felt like sleep. All he knew for certain is that it was another day filled with pain and dreams of Ashleigh.

  “Lt. Jameson? Can you open your eyes?”

  Christopher winced and grumbled. “What?” He managed though he was still groggy.

  “It’s time for your lunch.”

  “What?” He reached up and found that his hands were strapped down. His brain began to clear and the nurse undid the straps.

  “You keep trying to take off the bandages.”

  “Freaking hurts…” He managed.

  “Well you were warned. You’re the one that wanted to squeeze six surgeries into two months.”

  When his hands were free Christopher reached up and tentatively touched his face. It was completely wrapped in bandages. There was a slit for his eyes and another for his mouth and then a slash for his nose. Even his hair was covered. He felt like he had a soccer ball for a head!

  “Careful. The incisions are held together by tape and glue, no stitches.”

  “I feel like crap.”

  The male nurse chuckled. “You don’t say. Reconstructive surgery like yours is no joke. It’s like that Makeover show where they change a person completely in a matter of weeks, except they never had to harvest bone from other parts of your body in order to build up your facial structure. Add to that creating a bridge for your nose where there never was one before. Pulled out all of your teeth and bonded you a brand new pair. Repaired the fissure, redid the prior surgery to fix your lip and scar reduction. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anyone take six facial surgeries in nine weeks.”

  Christopher didn’t want a re-cap of all of his surgeries—WHAT? Did he just say nine weeks?! He sat up in the hospital bed that had been customized to accommodate someone of his size.

  “What day is it?!”

  “Uh…it’s Friday the 25th.”

  “Shit! I was supposed to be home on the 20th!”

  “That’s impossible.” The nurse was watching a monitor intently. “You just had your final surgery Sunday. You need two full weeks for recovery.”

  Christopher was already climbing out of the bed. “Ow! What the-?”

  “Catheter. Lieutenant you need to lay back down-”

  He gave the man a serious look. “One of us is going to pull this thing out. You or me?”

  The nurse removed the catheter while he stood and then Christopher yanked off his hospital gown and walked naked around the room, opening drawers to locate his clothing.

  “Lieutenant!”

  “Where are my damned clothes?!” He finally found them hanging in the closet; just a pair of fatigues and a camo shirt. He glared at the nurse who was staring on in disbelief that he was actually making attempts to leave.

  “Lieutenant, you don’t understand. Your face is being held together by tape and glue! You are not even allowed to smile! We’ve been keeping you asleep so that you don’t move. You just can’t get up and leave!”

  Christopher already had his pants and shirt on and had plopped down into a chair in order to pull on socks and shoes. “Y’all told me you can do it in two months.”

  “Yeah! The surgeries! That didn’t include the time it would take to heal afterwards.”

  “Look! I have a girlfriend and family expecting me. They are probably worried sick! Get me a phone!”

  “You can’t call from here. This is a military hospital for Special Forces. Nobody can know the location! Protocol-”

  Christopher stood and stalked toward the smaller man who quickly retreated back a step. “I’ll get you that phone.”

  Dr. Weitz came in a few minutes later, looking concerned. Christopher was pacing back and forth, waiting for someone to bring him a phone.

  “Lieutenant, I’m sorry to hear that you want to be discharged before the recommended time.”

  “I need to get home.”

  “You’ll have to sign a statement saying that you refuse treatment.”

  “Certainly.”

  “You know that it’s against the rules to make a phone call to civilians while in action.”

  “I would laugh but that guy has me afraid that my face might crack. You and I both know that this isn’t a mission. And if it was a mission it would have ended five days ago. If it was a mission than I’d say that you’re not following protocol right now because my family has no idea where the hell I am and that’s your fault for keeping me asleep!”

  The doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone which he handed to Christopher in light of his escalating anger.

  “Thank you.” He said, though he didn’t think he should have had to waste even a minute explaining why he should be allowed to call his family. He quickly dialed Ashleigh’s cell phone. He didn’t know if it was night or day because there were no windows where he was. The phone rang and rang. Next he dialed his Mom and Dad.

  “Mom!”

  “CHRISTOPHER???!”

  “Mom I’m so sorry-”

  “Are you okay?!”

  “I am. I’m okay-”

  “Christopher you need to come home immediately.”

  His heart began to drum rapidly in his chest.

  “Where’s Ashleigh?!”

  “Chris, Ashleigh got very sick. Honey, she went to sleep the other night and didn’t wake up. They got her in the hospital…”

  The blood seemed to drain from his body. He turned to the doctor who had already heard enough of the conversation to determine that something very bad had happened. He told Chris that he would get him on the first available flight home.

  “Mama,” Christopher asked when the Doctor left the room. “Is it her diabetes?”

  “That…and, well…,” He heard his mother take a deep breath. “You just get home. How long will it take?”

  “I don’t know Mama. They are making arrangements for a flight out as we speak.”

  “Christopher, your voice sounds so different. Are you sure you’re alright?”

  Christopher touched his stiff bandaged face. “Yes. And I’ll explain when I get there. I love you and I’ll call you when I get my own cell phone back. I love you Mom. Tell Ashleigh I love her and that I’m alright, okay? Tell her I’ll be there soon!”

  “I’ll tell ‘em son.”

  He hung up and began pacing, barely feeling the throbbing of his healing facial surgery. All he could think about was how he’d left things. He should have gone on the mission. At least then he would have been back by now. But for the first time ever, he’d been plagued with bad feelings about a mission. Whether it was because he didn’t want to leave Ashleigh or if it was because he had bought into the superstition he wasn’t sure. But he saw things in a totally different light now that he’d given his life up to Ashleigh.

  There was a layover in Atlanta and Christopher immediately headed for a payphone, cursing the fact that he didn’t have his ce
ll phone. He wouldn’t be allowed access to personal property until he had gone through ‘debriefing’. He wasn’t sure how his Commander intended to handle that since he hadn’t actually gone on a mission.

  He dialed Ashleigh’s number and he listened intently to her sweet voice as it went to voicemail. “Hi Baby. I miss you. I have a layover in Atlanta. I love you…” He sighed in misery. “I hope you’re alright, Sweetheart. I should be at the Greater Cincinnati airport by 5 am and then I’ll see you as quickly as I can. Bye, Sweetheart.” He hung up and contemplated calling his mother but decided against it due to the late hour. He wouldn’t want to cause his father to wake up and make more work for his mother to get him back down. He was worried sick about Ashleigh, and desperate for news.

  Was she in a diabetic coma still? He paced half scaring people in the terminal. Yeah, if it wasn’t one thing than it was another; scars or bandages…

  When he boarded the next flight, he wished he’d taken the painkillers that Dr. Weitz had tried to give him. His face felt like someone had taken him by the back of his head and slammed him against a brick wall repeatedly. He’d eaten chicken soup as his in flight dinner since it didn’t require him to move his sore jaw by chewing. He finally drifted off to sleep filled with guilt that something had happened to the woman he loved and he hadn’t been there…again.

  Christopher called his mother as soon as he got to The Greater Cincinnati Airport terminal.

  “How’s Ashleigh?”

  “Son, she’s awake and alert and waiting anxiously for you to get to her. The hospital has already released her. Her blood sugar level was good and her parents have taken her back to her house. You wait there and I’ll send Butch over to get you-”

  “No, I’m going to catch a cab. It’ll be quicker. I’ll be over later Mom, but I need to check on Ashleigh first.”

  “You do that son. Just call me. You need to be with your family.”

  He tilted his head at her silly words. “You are my family. Look, I’ll talk to you later in the evening. Love you Mom.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Christopher hung up and went out to hail a taxicab. He reached Ashleigh’s condo an impossibly long time later even though it was still early morning due to the rush hour traffic. He hurried up to her apartment and rang the bell anxiously. He didn’t have a key since they always spent time at his place.

  A moment later the door opened and a pretty black woman looked at him in surprise. Her hands flew to her mouth and she looked like she was about to scream.

  “I’m Christopher.” He said quickly. He’d scared her just as badly with the bandages on as he would have with his scars. It saddened him and this is precisely why he needed the surgery.

  “Christopher? Ashleigh’s Christopher?” The woman said in disbelief. “But you’re…” white? Is that what she was going to say? The woman quickly recovered. “Ashleigh never said you were so…big.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” It seemed a stupid response and even stupider that he’d rushed all this way only to be standing right outside of her door blocked by a mother he’d never met and that knew pitifully little about him. He held out his hand and she gave it a tentative shake.

  “Come in,” she finally said, realizing that he was waiting for her to allow him in. “I’m so sorry. Ashleigh never mentioned that you were so…big.” What Ashleigh had actually told her mother, only upon learning that Christopher was alright and coming home, was that he had a cleft palate and not to be alarmed. But maybe she should have mentioned that he was a giant. “Ashleigh’s father had to leave and Ashleigh is in bed resting. Go in, she’s exhausted but keeps fighting sleep waiting for you.”

  Christopher nodded and hurried into Ashleigh’s bedroom. The shades were drawn and the room was dim. Ashleigh was curled up under her blankets with just her golden brown hair showing. He could see that she was sleeping and he lingered in the doorway a moment, not able to move, just drinking in the sight of her. God but he’d missed her.

  He eased forward so that he wouldn’t wake her, and worried how she would react to the sight of his bandaged face. But as soon as he stepped forward Ashleigh’s eyes opened and she turned sleepily in his direction.

  She scrambled up in bed and gasped. He held up his hands.

  “Don’t worry. I’m okay, Sweetheart.” He said quickly. “I just got reconstructive surgery.”

  She climbed out of bed and hurried to him throwing her arms around his large body. “Where were you? Why didn’t you come home? I was so scared!”

  He allowed his hands to roam her body as he held her, but not in a sexual way. He was alarmed by her weight loss.

  “Ashleigh…what happened?”

  “Your face…” She stared up at him in disbelief. His entire head was completely wrapped!

  “Honey, you’ve lost so much weight…”

  Ashleigh ran her hands over his chest and arms. “You have too.” Then she hugged him again and he held on to her, wanting to kiss her but not able to because despite the fact that his face didn’t have stitches, his lips did. He had peeked and they were nasty looking with black threads poking out.

  He gripped her shoulders and gently pulled her back so that he could look at her. He’d seen her when she had first come into the gym. She was a pretty girl that was overweight. Now it was nine months later and she wasn’t overweight at all. She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that hugged her curvy body.

  He couldn’t stop staring. She looked fantastic but he didn’t like seeing her like this if it was at the risk of her health.

  “What did you do to your face? Why? Christopher you didn’t do it for me, did you? Because I love you just as you are—”

  “I know you do, Sweetheart.” He pulled her into his arms. He had to hold her. He gently rubbed his hands down her back feeling her shiver. His body tensed and began to react but he pushed down his desire for her.

  “I couldn’t go on that mission. I couldn’t risk it. I kept thinking…what if I get hurt? What if I can’t come back to you?” Ashleigh held her breath as she thought about Christopher’s Commander. Did he know?

  “You didn’t go on a mission?” She looked up at him, clinging to him possessively.

  “Sweetheart, I told you all of this in the message-”

  “Baby! I couldn’t make out a damn thing you were saying! I had no idea…”

  He blanched. “What? You didn’t know that…Oh Ashley. I’m so sorry! And when I didn’t come home…” He had no idea that they didn’t understand that he had never been in combat. Yeah, he knew that they would worry as he hadn’t come home Monday as planned but he had never considered that they didn’t know that he was never in any danger of not returning home to them. The worry that they must have faced when he didn’t return Monday would have been unimaginable. They would have truly thought he was dead.

  He immediately explained about approaching his commander with his request for the surgery. Bruce had told him about the possible surgeries that he could get, all paid for by the military, when he’d first set eyes on the severely scarred man. He’d done the research for him and when Christopher declined he told him that he would make it happen for him if he ever changed his mind.

  When Christopher came to him with the request he knew that his medical needs would take precedence. He’d made the calls and told Christopher that the surgical crew was very interested in his case and could assemble a surgical team immediately.

  Everything had happened fast after that. He wouldn’t be allowed back on the active duty roster for six months and by that time he figured he would have another position.

  “Had Bruce not been such an all-around good guy, I would have never been able to pull that off. I would have been made to put in my request for surgery after my mission. But he knew that I’d put in my request to be taken off active duty well before the mission even came up.”

  Ashleigh looked away at the mention of Bruce. She met his eyes. “Baby, I don’t know how to tell you this but Bruce Kopeke
got hurt during the mission. He’s in ICU and he’s expected to survive. I talked to your friend TK earlier to tell him that you were okay. He said that the Commander was in Ft Campbell. The guys are going down to see him and TK told me to tell you that they were all going to be waiting for you.”

  Though he wasn’t supposed to, Christopher’s found himself frowning beneath his bandages. The Commander had been hurt doing his job…and now the guys were waiting for him…He blinked back his guilt. He needed to call down to Ft. Campbell later, but for now Ashleigh was all that he could think about.

  “What happened to you, Sweetheart? Was it your diabetes?”