by Mari Beck
“All right. Well, the plan is something that you’ll always be working on. What I’m more concerned with are the basics. Where are you going to live?”
“My grandfather has a house where I was living before I came here.”
“Okay, what about a job?”
“I’ll be working the farm and I have some VA benefits.” There was another long pause.
“What about your PTSD?”
“My what?”
“Your post-traumatic stress disorder?” Now it was Riley’s turn to remain silent. “We talked about this Riley. I’m sure your caseworker has too.”
“It’s fine.” Riley said in barely a whisper.
“You’ve been taking medication here in the hospital. Will you continue to take it when you go home?” Nadeem looked at him intently as he waited for an answer. The truth was that Riley hated the medication. He had no idea what it was. They had probably told him every time before he took it but there came a point where he just didn’t care. He wasn’t sure what exactly the pills were supposed to be doing. They would put him to sleep each night but he still had the nightmares. The medication just wouldn’t allow him to scream so anyone could hear him. It numbed him but he still felt everything he just didn’t care. Riley fidgeted with the ties on his bathrobe before he nodded in answer to Dr. Nadeem’s question.
“Will you?” Nadeem repeated the question.
“Yes.” Riley promised. Dr. Nadeem nodded his own approval before opening one of his desk drawers and taking out a set of papers. He started to write.
“Is that it?” Riley asked. “You’re going to let me out?”
“Yes. I am.”
Riley didn’t know whether to be relieved or to start to panic. He had already made plans in his own mind that once they released him he was going to go somewhere besides Bess. He wasn’t sure how he would do it but what did it matter? Riley didn’t have a way to get back to Bess anyway since they brought him to the hospital. But he wasn’t above walking to the nearest shelter or camping out somewhere if he had to.
“Can I go?” Riley wasn’t sure Nadeem was telling the truth.
“Yes.” Nadeem answered and kept writing. Riley exited the doctor’s office and headed back to his room. He couldn’t believe he was finally going to be free of this place. He wanted to start gathering everything he had as soon as possible. Riley started in the bathroom. There wasn’t much but the small hospital issued bar of soap and toothbrush they gave each patient that seemed harmless enough. He stared into the highly polished metal oval that hung above the sink that was meant to serve as a mirror. The only difference being that it wasn’t made of glass so no one here could break it and use it to harm themselves. It was all part of a theme that came with being here. Paper bags were used for trash bags because you could use the plastic ones to suffocate yourself, no cords on the window coverings, no shoes with laces, a spork instead of a knife or a fork and no razors which is why he was looking at nearly a full beard in the distorted reflection of the pseudo mirror in front of him. He took off the robe he’d put on over the hospital issued scrubs that he wore each day and put it in the dirty laundry receptacle. He tugged at the material. He had no idea what he was wearing when they brought him in and since he had refused to see anyone from back home he was fairly certain he had nothing to wear when he got out. Maybe they had a lost and found or a Goodwill nearby. Riley figured he would worry about it later. He made his way back out of the bathroom and looked around. There wasn’t much to gather from the room he’d spent the three weeks in. All it had in it was an adjustable hospital bed, a nightstand, a tv attached to its stand by heavy bolts and a large metal coil that prevented anyone from picking it up and throwing it he supposed. There was also a small desk against the wall with a cork board hanging over it but nothing to hang anything with. Tacks weren’t allowed. It had the semblance of a room but sometimes it did feel like a prison and although he had heard from others that his accommodations were amongst the best in the building, he knew he would still prefer laying on top of an old blanket in the back of his old truck, looking up at the sky framed by a sapphire dome of stars during a cool September night back home with Misty nestled into his side. He felt a familiar stab of pain and shook off the memory. He wondered if he would ever find a sky so beautiful anywhere else. It was hard to see the stars from the small windows of the hospital. They seemed muted and dull. Louis said it was because they weren’t far from the city. The lights of a city always eclipsed the stars, that’s what his mother used to say before she took him to Bess to live with his grandparents. He’d never seen a sky so wide, so blue, so serene reaching unobstructed from one end of the horizon to the other as far as the eye could see. How could he walk away from that and never go back? He had to. What other choice did he have? Live his days out in the farmhouse with Old Jimmy, tending cows, watching Brandon and Misty’s children play in the same park where he’d discovered his world was made up of lies? Going to church on Sundays and pretending to pray to a God who would actually forgive him for what he’d done? Eating Doreen’s fried chicken down at the café while everybody stared at him with pity and whispered behind his back? Meeting the old timers down at the Grab N Gas for coffee and a roll as they talked about the weather, the crops and which one of them would kick the bucket next? Did Dr. Nadeem think it was that easy to pick up the pieces of a broken life and put them back together? He had clearly never served, never seen the outcome of an IED attack. There were no pieces just a smattering of guts and charred metal all fused together lying on a dusty road going nowhere. That’s how he felt. That’s who he was just a pile of guts and metal charred beyond recognition. Riley could never go home again. He sat down on the bed. As weird as it might sound to anyone if he had chosen to tell them he was going miss these four walls. They didn’t care if he talked or screamed. They kept everybody out and him in so he couldn’t hurt anybody else.
“Hey.” Louis was standing in the doorway. He was carrying a large paper sack.Riley hadn’t even heard him. He stood up not sure whether to ask him to sit down or just be quiet. He chose to be quiet. Would Louis talk to him about what had happened during the vet’s group? Riley hoped not. He wasn’t interested. It wasn’t the same what happened to him. They didn’t have their faces plastered all over the internet, the news and the papers showing them during the very worst moment of their entire lives, while the 24-hour news channels replayed his moment in hell over and over. Each angle of the picture dissected along with his life for everybody to see but no one willing to listen. Telling him he was crazy and a hero all at the same time. They were the crazy ones. They could have it their post-traumatic stress disorder shit and their Purple Hearts. They could stick their exclusive interviews were the sun didn’t shine and choke on their parades, he didn’t want any of it. Not anymore.
“I heard you were getting out.”
“Yeah.”
“Congratulations.” Louis came in the room and pointed to the desk chair. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“No, go ahead.”
“I just got the word from Dr. Nadeem. So I’ll get some of your other paperwork drawn up to go along with what the nurse will bring you for your discharge and you’ll be on your way.”
“That sounds good.”
“Oh, I brought you some clothes. Figured you wouldn’t want to go back home in that getup.” He said pointing at Riley’s scrubs. Riley took the bag from him and opened it up. Inside were a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a sweatshirt, some underwear, socks a razor and a pair of boots. Everything seemed brand new but the boots. The boots he recognized. They were his. Riley looked up at Louis. The older man smiled. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t get you nothing but the razor.” Riley was confused.
“Then where did these come from?”
“Your fiancée dropped these off awhile back when she came to visit with her dad. I’ve been keeping them for you.” Riley visibly flinched at the word fiancée. He closed the bag back up and set it off to the side. She’s not my fian
cée. She’s nothing to me anymore and I’m nothing to her.
“Well, I’m not going to keep you. I’ll be seeing you soon anyhow.”
“You coming by to say goodbye when they dismiss me?”
“No need. At least not until I drop you off.”
“Where?”
“Back home.” Louis said and got up.
“Back home? I don’t get it.”
“What’s not to get? I’m your ride back home.” Louis gave him a pat on the back and headed for the door.
“What? No!” Riley almost screamed it out. He had different plans, plans that didn’t include going back to Bess.
“No?” Louis turned back around and faced him. “What do you mean no? I thought you told Dr. Nadeem you were ready to go home. Do you have another home I don’t know about?”
“N-n-no.” Riley stammered, furious for not being able to tell Louis what he really wanted to do, not without the risk of being stuck in the hospital one more day.
“Ok then, once they get the paperwork ready I’ll come back and we’ll finish up. Why don’t you take a shower and get dressed, maybe shave?” Riley put a hand up to his face and frowned. Louis stared back at him from the doorway and chuckled.“I’m not sure that anyone’s had the balls to tell you lately but, soldier, you look like hell. You don’t want the good people of Bess to see you looking like something the cat dragged in now do you?” With that he exited the room and left Riley staring helplessly after him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Café
The café was the size of her large master bedroom back home with several sets of small round tables and a few corner booths filled with early risers. Brenda hadn't been able to sleep so she had bundled up, driven into town and waited until Doreen opened up for breakfast at 6.
"Hey there, hon." The older woman greeted her as she tied on her red gingham apron. "It'll be just a few minutes before the coffee's done but I can get started on your order. You want the usual?"
It was such a comfort coming to the café these past few weeks, even if it was under a secret identity and knowing someone knew her well enough to ask if she wanted her usual. Even though Doreen sometimes had a hankering for gossip she was a warm caring soul, who took pride in two things: her famous fried chicken and her little community. She took crap from no one but gave out big helpings of love, food and friendship to most everyone she met. This included Brenda who had been a virtual stranger to her just a few weeks ago.
"Where's Carl?" Brenda asked noticing that Doreen's brother-in-law and cook was no where to be seen.
"Can you believe that big lug got himself head hunted to another joint in Broken Bow?"
"Head hunted?"
"You know recruited, lured away, BRIBED!" Doreen's face was beginning to match her vibrant red hair.
"To another café?”
“No,mam! To a RESTAURANT!" She emphasized each and every syllable."At least that's what Elaine said when I made the mistake of asking if it was the Bar N Grill out on Highway 2. That Harry Millsap has had his eye on Carl and MY fried chicken recipe ever since he had it catered in for his mother's funeral! But no, it's some fancy place up at Broken Bow where he gets to be a chef of some sort? Carl a CHEF?? Can you believe it? After all Elbert and I did for him and my sister?"
"That sounds really tough, Doreen. So what are you going to do?"
"Well, I'm in a bind. I just started opening up the place 4 days a week for all meals. Without Carl I need to go back to cooking myself and find someone to take orders." Doreen sighed calming herself down a little.
"Oh but you didn't come in to hear me rant on about my let-down of a brother-in-law or my ungrateful sister, Renae. It'll work itself out it always does it’ll just take a little longer for people to get their bacon and eggs." She chuckled and took out her ordering pad.
"So your usual?" She took out her pen and started to write as Brenda was thinking. She was so tired of being cooped up at the farmhouse with its drafty doors and creaky floors. Unable to do all the work she needed to do herself and not able to find someone with all of the skills or time necessary or willing to work within her small budget she knew she needed to keep her mind occupied by doing something else. It was a crazy idea especially since she hadn’t waited tables since college at the local Applebee’s but she didn’t figure waiting tables for Doreen would be that hard. It was also a good way to keep her mind off the soldier and her request that Jon find him for her. Two weeks had passed without a call from Jon and she knew it was only natural given how she had left things between them, her escape from the turmoil back home and the fact that she was asking to speak to the man who failed to save Shane that may have played a part in his hesitation to help her. But she couldn’t just sit around waiting anymore.
"Doreen?"
"Yes, hon?"
"I was thinking that maybe I could help you out."
Doreen looked up looking a bit surprised. Brenda went on.
"I'm no Carl so I definitely wouldn't want to be the cook but I waited tables back in college." Doreen slapped the ordering pad on the table and was untying her apron.
"What are you doing?" Brenda was afraid she’d offended the woman.
"Honey, you had me at ’Doreen’. The stout redhead laughed and gave her a friendly pat on the back. Brenda returned the smile and grabbed the apron and the pad.
"You’re a blessing from Jesus, Renae. No doubt about it. The Lord giveth me you and he taketh away Carl. Good riddance I say too. Now you go take orders from the old timers in the booth back there and I'll cook you up a plate and have your coffee for you in the kitchen." Doreen scurried to the back as Brenda tied on the apron and approached the elderly gentlemen in the booth. They both wanted the breakfast special-the Denver omelet which was written up on the chalkboard up front. The front door chimes sounded indicating that someone new had entered the café so Brenda went to grab a menu from behind the counter where she'd seen Doreen put them and headed for the booth in the opposite corner. She placed the menu in front of the two men who sat down.She took the pen out of her pocket and got ready to write.
"Morning." She greeted them hoping she sounded more cheerful and energetic than she felt. "Coffee's almost done if you'd like a cup and the breakfast special is Denver omelet."
" That’ll be fine.” The first man responded with a smile. “What about you?” She asked the second man but he didn’t answer. He had his head down but didn’t seem to be looking at the menu.
“Can I get you something?” She repeated.
“Riley. The lady’s asking what you want to eat.” The man with the mustache said loud enough for everyone in the diner to hear him. The second man finally looked up.
“Just coffee, please.” He responded. Brenda felt her knees give way as the menu, pad and pen fell to the floor. She managed to steady herself by holding on to the table even as her heart pounded in her chest at an alarming speed.
"Are you okay?" He asked taking her hand and pulling her to a sitting position next to him in the booth. Brenda found she couldn’t answer the simple question. There staring back at her was the face of the man,who besides Shane’s face,haunted both her waking and sleeping hours. Here she'd been wasting away waiting for Jon to call her with the news that he'd found the soldier and now by some coincidence, or miracle he was sitting right in front of her? How could this be? She could hardly believe it, at last she’d come face to face with Army Specialist Riley Favreau, the man who had let her husband die.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Finding The Soldier
The waitress was staring at him. They were all staring at him. Riley could feel it. This is precisely what he didn’t want. The eyes full of pity. The whispers. The shame.
“Are you all right,miss?” Louis was asking the waitress, who hadn’t said a word. She just kept staring at Riley until he finally looked away.
“I’m sorry.” She stuttered and pulled herself back up. She took the menus, her ordering pad and made a b-line for the
kitchen.
“That was strange.” Louis chuckled.
“Not for me.” Riley said under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said not for me.”
“Why would you say that?” Louis put his hat on the seat next to him.
“No reason.”
“There’s a reason, Riley. Just say what you need to say.”
“Everyone here knows what happened. What I did.”
“Well, I suppose that’s true. Not much you can do about that though, is there?”
“I didn’t have to come back here.”
“That wasn’t an option.”
“I don’t know that I can live here anymore, Louis. I thought I could. But I’m not sure.” Louis was quiet for a bit before he leaned in a little.
“Are these the same people who’ve known you almost all of your life?” Riley nodded. “Are they the same people who saw you off when you deployed?”
“Yes.”
“Same folks who waited hours on a tarmac at an airport to welcome you home a hero?” Riley nodded again. “They sound like pretty good people to me. They’re just scared and that doesn’t make them bad, Riley, it makes them human.”
“Just the same. I don’t belong here anymore.”
The waitress returned with two cups and a pot of coffee. Her hand was trembling as she poured the first cup and then the second one. Riley avoided making eye contact with her or anyone else in the room.
“Your order will be up in just a few minutes.” She told Louis and quickly left again.
“Do you know her?” Louis asked taking a sip from the steaming cup. Riley looked over toward the front where the pretty brunette was vigorously wiping down the counter, something he’d never even seen Doreen do with such enthusiasm.
“No. I’ve never seen her before.”
“I thought everyone knew everyone in a small town.” Louis teased.