Facing Reality

by Sarah Cole

  I don’t stop, I just keep going knowing I need to get this story out. This story is only one of many that haunt me, but it’s the one that finally sent me home. I just got lucky it wasn’t in a flag draped walnut box.

  “We knew that the enemy was getting closer. It was almost like you could feel it. The air shifted-felt heavier almost. I kept trying to make contact with the incoming teams and pilots, but nothing. Finally, the explosions started and I made contact with one of the teams but something happened to them. They were out of fuel from having to re-route and they had some sensory problems from being gunned down. Needless to say – they never made it because someone sold us out. At first I thought it was the translator, but it wasn’t until much later in the hospital, I found out it might have been Darren.

  I knew I had to do something, so I resorted to my alternative plan. I let myself get captured by a terrorist group. I knew how these guys operated. I’d spent years studying them, hearing stories, being briefed. They are hungry for information and I knew I had to make it easy, but not too easy for them. It was the only chance my guys had to get out. I spent six weeks in captivity being tortured.”

  She gasps and I rest, my hand on her knee, comforting her with gentle circles.

  “I fed them information, but it was all either outdated information from old missions or completely inaccurate. I know it was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it, but it was the only way to give my teams a chance to get out… luring them away. I had to let them think they were beating it out of me, and that I wasn’t giving it willingly. Bryan Snider was my best friend, my second. We met in boot camp and he was out there too. He knew what the plan was, and if I got captured I had one month. I made him give me a month. He let our command know, and I had no idea that six weeks went by, but it had. Time just kind of blends after a certain point.

  Bryan and some of my guys had been tracking, and they came in with guns fuckin’ blazing, but Bryan didn’t make it. That son of a bitch died trying to save me. I know it wasn’t my fault…I know that, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty. Anyways, that was our last mission and after that I honestly couldn’t go back. I thought for a while that I could do the whole career military thing, but it wouldn’t be the same then. I kept reliving all of that shit. Still do.”

  I look up from my lap where our intertwined hands sit, and see that she has tears streaming down her face.

  “Don’t cry, baby.”

  “I’m just so sorry you had to go through that, Flynn.”

  “I didn’t have to. I chose to- I signed up for it. It was necessary, and I don’t regret a single second of what I did. I did it so little girls like Emma had a fighting chance at freedom. That story is just a fraction of the shit that I’ve seen and done, but I wouldn’t change it.”

  “You really are a hero, Flynn. Don’t discount yourself. But what happened to Darren? Why did he do that?” she asks.

  I’m not a hero. The things I’ve seen and done- they don’t make me heroic. They made me a robot of war… a deadly weapon. I didn’t even blink twice when making the decisions I did. They were survival instincts, and everyone around me was living the same hell, making those same decisions. Memories play like a broken and blood stained movie reel in my head – the smells of fire, death, hot M16’s and gasoline. There are pieces of my friends scattered on the cracked desert landscape like confetti after an IED rips through a convoy like a chainsaw to paper, the heat, the dreaded sound of a death rattle as a friend takes his last breath and you hold up a picture of his wife and children so he can say goodbye, and the fucking reality that while serving this country gave me so much in life, it stole pieces of my soul that I can never mend or recover.

  I finally pull myself back inside my mind enough to answer her, “No, Clara. I’m not a hero. I’m an American. I did what any decent man would do to keep his guys safe. As for Darren Woods… I don’t know what the hell is going on. I found out later when I was recovering that it might have been Darren who sold out our plans and location to local militia in the first place. What he received for it or why, I still have no idea. I honestly think he’s just fucking crazy. I don’t know a whole lot about him. He was transferred to my unit from another one for having some issues with other CO’s, but he just seemed a little off. He had a smart mouth, but kept to himself for the most part. Then shortly after my capture he went AWOL. I was out, so I had no idea. They came to ask me if I had info… which I didn’t until now, but I just cannot figure out the connection between us.”

  “I don’t know, but this is insane.” She says, and I couldn’t agree more.

  16

  CLARA:

  Flynn and I hold each other until we fall asleep. Sometime around three in the morning, Emma begins to fuss, so I try to slip out of Flynn’s arms, and his grip on me tightens. I tap his arm since he is clearly still asleep.

  “Honey, I have to go get Emma.” I say, but he doesn’t budge. I grab his hand to loosen his grip on my waist, but instead of loosening his grip, his other hand latches onto mine with a crushing force as he twists and bends it unnaturally.

  “Flynn!!!” I cry out, and when he doesn’t let up immediately I act out of instinct and use my other hand to hit him as hard as I can in the face. It is an odd angle and really the only place I could get to, but I had to.

  He releases my hand immediately.

  “Ouch! What the hell?” he groans rolling to his back and I bolt out of bed to Emma’s room. I lift her up, to find that she has soaked through her diaper and jammies, and it appears she’s had a blowout.

  “Shhh, baby girl. I’ve got you. Let’s get you cleaned up, ok?” I kiss her little tear stained cheeks, and she begins to quiet when I run some warm water in the bathtub in her adjoined bathroom, so I can fill her little baby tub.

  I glance down at my hand, my knuckles looking swollen and a little purple. I know it isn’t his fault, and I don’t blame him at all. I’m not mad, but I am scared for him… myself and Emma.

  I one handedly peel off Emma’s soiled onsie, as I cradle her with my free arm, and remove her diaper, getting myself and the pale pink bathmat dirty in the process. I suppose some things are just unavoidable. I test the water, setting my sweet sleepy girl in the mesh net.

  “I did it again, didn’t I?” Flynn’s rough, sleep laden voice drawls from the doorway.

  I don’t look up as I continue to wash the baby clean, “Yeah. You did.”

  “How bad? Let me see, baby.” I hold my hand up out of the water so he can see the bruised skin and he drops to his knees beside me. He takes my small hand gently in his larger one, and inspects it before placing a kiss.

  “I’m so sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to. I wouldn’t – I don’t mean to hurt you.” I nod, and pull my hand from his and we wash Emma together in silence. We work as a synchronized team to get her rinsed and dried and into a clean diaper and jammies. He runs downstairs to warm up a small bottle for Emma to get her back to sleep.

  I go back into the master to change my shirt, and lay back down, and a few minutes later, Flynn comes back in and pulls me back into him, causing me to be the little spoon and I sink back into him because despite the fact that he has these episodes, I still feel safe with him. Call me stupid, but I know he’d never hurt me… intentionally anyways.

  “Talk to me.” He says, placing tender kisses along my bare shoulder and tenderly stroking the bare skin at my waist with his fingers.

  “I don’t really have anything to say, Flynn. Anything I want to say will only cause you to clam up or get angry. I’m not looking for a fight; I’m looking for you to fight.” I sigh.

  “You just don’t understand…”

  “You’re right. I don’t, and I probably never will. But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to lay down and stop trying to help.”

  “I know, and I’m-” he’s cut off by the sound of his ringing phone. I know from the tone that it is the fire department. “Shit.”

  “Yeah?” he answers, and I can
hear a man’s voice on the other side of the line.

  “Sure. Be there in ten.” He says, hanging up.

  “Clara, I have to go. Lucas is out of town for work, so there is no other volunteer for backup. Listen to me.” he says, and I nod.

  “I’m locking the door and enabling the alarm. Remember when I showed you how to shoot?” he asks and I nod, my throat going dry. “Well if you have to, you do it. Do you understand? You know where I keep that gun. I will be back as soon as I can. Keep your phone on you, baby.” He kisses me chastely before throwing on some clothes and rushing out the door. I hear the door open and the steady beeping of the alarm setting, then the garage door and the roar of Flynn’s monstrous truck as he drives off into the night.

  ***

  I’m scrolling through my emails looking for a response from the local school district or my online undergrad program. About a week ago, I finally got the green light to apply for student teaching positions. Before I could have gone anywhere, but now having Emma and Flynn, I would like to find something close by. I know I don’t need to teach… I really don’t have to do anything, but I want to. Not seeing anything, I flip over to my text messages, and place a kiss on Emma’s head. She’s passed out on my chest and I couldn’t put her down. I think I find her just as comforting as she finds me sometimes.

  I see that I have a few unread messages. That’s another thing. I used to be glued to my phone, but since moving here I hardly remember to check it. I see the one from my father, which surprises me since his usual method is a phone call.

  Dad: Clara, I wish you’d answer me. I know you’re mad, but you need to come home. We need you. We can rearrange terms and contracts.

  I roll my eyes at that message. He means that he needs me because he needs my face and the money it brings, and it’s not even like he needs that.

  I see a couple texts from Emily.

  Emily: Hey girl, I miss you. Call me when you get a chance. I want to video chat that scrumptious baby girl! Xo

  Emily: Have you seen this? I know you don’t want to, but you might want to make a statement soon before this gets out of hand… love you.

  Below that is a link which I quickly tap on.

  “Oh, my goodness…” I whisper to myself when the page loads. It’s an entertainment news site, but at the top is a picture of Flynn and I pushing Emma down the sidewalk in her stroller with his arm around my shoulder, and there’s an inset picture of Flynn in his Army dress uniform with a headline: Hero or Zero?

  The article goes on to speculate about my relationship with Flynn and if the baby is ours together. Then there’s more speculation about why I’m hiding it and why I hid my pregnancy. I click another link that has me rumored to be a home wrecker, and talks about how I threw a fit and forced Flynn to leave his high school sweetheart for me even though they were expecting a child.

  I huff out a breath. “What am I going to do?”

  “About what?” Flynn asks, popping up out of nowhere. I honestly don’t even know how he hasn’t just collapsed from exhaustion at this point with as little sleep as he’s had.

  “I honestly don’t even want to tell you because I have no solution, and I don’t want to ruin today too since yesterday was so shitty.” I say, but it’s true.

  Yesterday morning when Flynn got home from working that call we barely spoke to each other. Eventually we thawed out and apologized, but I’m not backing down on the subject of him seeking help. The only problem is that he doesn’t seem to be either. We then got the lovely experience of relaying the whole story start to finish for the lovely people down at the police station, who just looked at us like we were on drugs.

  Then later on in the day, Emma spiked a fever and has had an upset tummy and won’t eat for us. So, yeah, it has been fantastic. Now all of this.

  “Well, it can’t be good if it has you using curse words.” Flynn chuckles as I bring up the article on my phone again so he can see.

  He takes the phone from me, and I watch as he reads it and his jaw sets.

  “Well, that’s a load of bullshit.” He says.

  “Obviously.”

  “But you know what? We’ll be ok.”

  I hope that he’s right about that. He heads up stairs to shower and change since he’s been working outside all day, and I close my eyes trying to figure out why everything has to be such a mess.

  FLYNN:

  I’ve got to get Clara out of this house before she goes crazy. I understand her reservations about not wanting to, but what she doesn’t understand is that I don’t give a shit what stories they make up about me. Sure, I hate the fact those leeches are in our face twenty-four seven, and I don’t like them around Clara and Emma, but I know that soon enough the scandal will fade and we will become boring to them if we don’t feed into it. I know it is eating away at Clara though. I can see it in her face and the way that she’s constantly on edge and looking over her shoulder.

  I haven’t seen hide nor hair of that fucker, Darren, since the night he had the balls to show up here, and believe me, I’ve been looking. The cops have his name, face, and statements from both of us. We also filed an official restraining order against him, but I know with his background and this shit he’s done, a piece of fucking paper isn’t going to stop him. And as much as I hate to give him credit for it, he’s smart.

  I’m pulling on a t-shirt, when I’m struck with an idea. I know how to get my girls out of here for a while. I bound down the stairs and into the kitchen where Clara has Emma set up in a high chair trying to feed her some baby cereal in formula. She’s only three months, but after some research and an appointment with our family doctor, we think it might be the solution to getting our angel to sleeping more. She seemed to be waking up more during the night again, and her bottles just weren’t cutting it, so they gave us the green light to try this. So far, it seems to be a home run except for the mess that Emma likes to make when she spits it all out.

  “Hey pretty girls.” I coo to Emma as I give Clara’s backside a gentle squeeze.

  “Say hi, Daddy! I’m just getting my belly full!” Clara says sweetly, talking for Emma Jean.

  “Good stuff, huh?” I laugh as I take the little bowl from Clara and nudge her away so she can go wash the rejected cereal off her arms.

  “What were your plans tonight, angel?”

  She looks at me and seems to mull the question over like she’s got a long list. “Well first I was going to teach Emma to recite the Declaration of Independence, follow that up with a little nothing, make you grill food for dinner, wash my hair, do more nothing, then probably throw a raging party with my two favorite people.” She jokes.

  “Wow that sounds like a jam-packed evening of excitement, but if you can reschedule the hair washing and the nothings to next Tuesday, do you think you can pencil in some quality time with the two coolest people you’ll ever meet?” I tease.

  “Oh, I don’t know… I was pretty excited about the hair washing, but I feel like I can squeeze you into my busy schedule.” she smiles, taking a warm cloth to Emma’s messy face and hands.

  Fuck, this woman is everything.

  ***

  “Where exactly are we going?” Clara asks, looking nervously out the windows of my truck.

  I reach over and squeeze her bare knee in reassurance before I take a turn off the county highway to an old dirt road that kicks up as many memories as it does dust when my tires hit it.

  “It’s a surprise, baby. It’s somewhere I used to go with my folks when I was a kid. It’s completely off the grid.”

  She has no idea what we’re doing. I just told her to get essentials for us and Emma and her little Dock a Tot thing, and I loaded up my truck with coolers, food, blankets and some fishing poles. I don’t know how she’s going to react to what I’ve got in store since she’s a born and bred city girl, but at every turn she ends up surprising the shit out of me. Like when she decided to take up gardening, and ever since I keep catching her elbows deep in the garden an
d flower beds, but it’s sexy as hell.

  “I see all that stuff back there. Know that I’d go anywhere with you Flynn Alexander, but I’m not sure if I can rough it and become a hill person. I don’t know how to build a fire or make my own soap!”

  I chuckle, “Relax. I’ll have you back to civilization before you know it. No need for soap making.”

  I see the old lake lookout up ahead, and as we approach I sneak a glance at Clara. Her face is illuminated by the early evening sun, the golden light blanketing her so it looks like she’s glowing.

  “This is so gorgeous.” She breathes, looking out at the tree lined green lake. Hardly anyone comes out to this end anymore now that they revitalized and expanded the waterfront down by the dam on the other end.

  I stop in the old dirt opening and put my truck in park. “Yeah, it is.” I say, but I’m not talking about the lake.

  She looks over catching my eye, and blushes. I love that about her. The fact that she’s sexy, but yet still so innocent and reserved. She’s nothing like what Hollywood paints her as. I’d venture to say she’s the exact opposite- quiet, well-read, intelligent, nurturing, witty, and mostly a home body.

  “What are we going to do?” Clara interrupts my roaming thoughts with her eagerness.

  “First, fishing. Then dinner. Then we’re sleeping out here – just the three of us.” I gesture to the area surrounding us.

  “Do we have a tent?” Clara asks.

  “No need, babe. We’ll blow up an air mattress and sleep in the back of the truck. We can just fold down the back seats and put Emma there so we can hear and reach her through the back window.”

  The look on her face is priceless. Her brows furrow before a look of sheer determination paints her dainty features.

  “Ok, I’m good with that, but I have one problem.” She says firmly.

  “And what’s that?”