by Mari Beck
“Yeah, see you in the morning.” He said and opened the door to his room. Riley set down his duffel bag on the twin bed and yawned. He was tired. He was glad, maybe tonight he would finally be able to close his eyes and forget everything. Everything. Wouldn’t that be a blessing, he thought. He decided to take a shower and let the hot water cover his body, relieving some of the stress. His mind wandered as stood there under the pulsing water trying not to think about Misty, Brandon, and the wedding that should have been his. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned against the shower wall. It was too much to take in. He thought he had lost his mind when he first heard himself agree to go on this road trip with Renae the waitress. South Dakota! What was he thinking? He was thinking that he wanted to run away, disappear and go somewhere where no one recognized him, knew what had happened to him or cared. When Renae had suggested leaving town he couldn’t help but be interested in the idea. He felt better when he was with her. She rarely pressed him to talk about things he didn’t want to talk about. She might tease him about being a little too quiet at time or not being as open as she was with him about herself and her life. But he felt the sincerity in her voice when she talked to him. He felt that she genuinely cared about what he thought, what he wanted even if he was pretty bad at verbalizing it. It didn’t hurt that she was pretty too. Sometimes, when he was listening to her talk, she became so animated that a wisp of her short brown hair came loose from where she had sprayed it down and he had to suppress the urge to reach out and tuck the two stray strands behind her ear. It bothered him that he had thoughts about her like that. Wasn’t he still trying to get over Misty? He seriously doubted that would happen anytime soon. The pain was raw and the wound seemed to reopen each time he had a fresh thought about her. But he couldn’t deny that Renae’s presence was comforting. He felt a little more at peace when he was with her, if that was possible. He shut off the water, stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. He wasn’t sure what to make of the feelings he had about Renae, but it wasn’t anything he had to figure out that night so he let it go. After drying off, he pulled a pair of sweatpants out of his duffel bag and put them on before getting into bed. Who knew what tomorrow had in store for him on this crazy adventure, he thought, and surprisingly he drifted off to sleep without fearing the nightmares that were usually waiting for him to close his eyes.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Cotton Eyed Joe
After a long day of South Dakota sight-seeing near Rapid City they’d decided to check out a place to eat and drink closer to the motel. Riley was hesitant and Brenda wasn’t any more certain than he was but she wanted him to open up more and she hoped a place like this might do it. It was the easy-going smile that never quite reached his eyes that gave him away. Brenda took a drink of the second beer that he’d ordered for her and realized that what she saw in his eyes, when she had the courage to really look, was pain. Raw, uncomfortable pain, tangible and deep. It made her physically uncomfortable to look for more than a few seconds. As she looked away she saw that he had caught her staring but was pretending not to notice. She took another drink. The bar was packed, as one would expect it to be on a Saturday night only a few days after payday. The place was decorated in a sort of retro hole-in-the-wall look, rough and rustic, but it had a welcoming appeal nonetheless. Memorabilia, highlighting local interests, like fishing, hunting and high school sports teams covered the walls. Tables and chairs had been purposely mis-matched and the loud music was pure honky tonk and out-law country. The waitresses were dressed in skintight jeans and white t-shirts knotted right above the belly button also sporting sparkling body piercings in an array of designs and colors. Pre-molded cowboy hats , smattered with glitter in black, bright pink and white accentuated the look along with the name tags worn with names like Ginger, Jayda, Barbie, Alyssa, Jenna written on them in some sexy lipstick script. Maybe she’d made a mistake bringing him to a place like this. After all, she had brought him on the trip to help him forget his former fiancée, who was set to marry his former best friend in Broken Bow this very weekend, wearing the dress she had picked out for their own wedding. Wow, if that didn’t make him absolutely miserable and horribly uncomfortable every second of the day, he was tougher than she could ever be about that kind of betrayal. He should be passed out drunk somewhere already, trying to forget all of that and here she was already thinking how much she needed him to help her with her own problems. What a bad friend she was. How was bringing him to the bar, where everyone seemed overly happy and drunk while the big breasted waitresses brought more to drink making the pain any better? The girls were too pretty, their boobs too big, the music too loud and certainly too full of life. It was too soon for a guy who had just had the rug pulled from under him by a girl he thought had loved him. She noticed that there was also an unusual amount of couples kissing, nuzzling, holding hands and definitely enjoying each other’s company way too much. She smiled at Riley and nervously took another drink.
“I’m sorry.” She said.
“For what?” he asked trying to be heard over the music.
“For this.”
“It’s okay, really.”
“I should have taken you to a Perkins or something.”
“I like the place.” He said
“I know it’s like one part Hank Williams and two parts Hooters.”
“Yeah.” He said and attempted a smile, “I’m just glad I’m here and not back home.” Good. At least he was being honest and opening up a little more. She nodded sympathetically. Maybe the trip was doing him some good already. Suddenly the music changed to a more upbeat song. The band was gearing up at the front and she saw that the lead singer had taken his place with them holding his fiddle. People were getting up and heading for the dance floor. She followed the couples with her eyes as they made it onto the dance floor. She smiled to herself as she recognized the familiar tune. It was the Cotton Eyed Joe. The choreographed dance began and each pair was out there giving it their all. Soon she found herself tapping along to the beat and clapping. That’s when she realized he was staring at her. She felt heat flushing over her face. She felt embarrassed. Maybe she’d been tapping too loudly?
“Wanna dance?” he asked over the music
“What?” she asked almost choking on her beer.
“Dance, do you want to dance?”
“Are you serious?” she said somewhat surprised
“This is my third beer-I can probably take it.” He said and she wasn’t sure still if he was joking.
“I don’t know. . .” she said hesitantly
“Don’t know how, huh?” he teased.
“Of course I do. But are you sure you want to?”
“Why the hell not?”
“Okay.” She said smiling and stood up reaching out for his hand and leading him to the dance floor. They made their way around the dancing couples and found a tiny space between the stage and a few tables set up nearby. There was a great deal of stumbling on both their parts when they started and a good deal of bad coordination mostly on his part. A few times they almost got knocked down and they almost took out a couple on the turns. Brenda was laughing and Riley couldn’t help but laugh a little himself.
“You’re terrible!” she teased as he tried to turn her for the fourth time but still in the wrong direction.
“Thanks, you’re no Janet Jackson yourself!”
“No, I mean it. You can’t dance.” She laughed
“I know.” He admitted and stepped on her foot. She grimaced from the pain and attempted another turn.
“Then why did you ask me?”
“You looked like you wanted to dance.” He said smiling and stomping his feet in something that resembled less Cotton Eyed Joe and more bad Lord of the Dance.
“Oh.” She said remembering all the toe tapping she’d done at the table.
“It’s okay. This is fun.” He said as he stepped on her foot again.
“Ouch! For you maybe.” She teased. He smiled and pushed
her into the next steps 4-5 beats behind the music. She was laughing so hard she could hardly stand it.
“This has got to be the world’s longest song.” He said as he swung her around.
“It’s the extended version, I think.” She said and tried to avoid hitting the couple next to them on the next swing. When the song finally ended, they were both out of breath and laughing as they headed back to the table.
“You’re a public menace.” She said trying to catch her breath. He was laughing too, she noticed and it didn’t seem to be forced or only for her benefit.
“If you’d asked for my dancing credentials, I would have told you I didn’t have any.”
“I guess not.” She said and took a drink from her almost empty bottle. Riley was full of surprises. Here she was feeling guilty for making him come to a place like this and he had been worried about her.
She liked him. She couldn’t help it. She sighed as she reminded herself that just for this week she was setting her own agenda aside and she was on a humanitarian mission. Riley had his heart broken and as a friend she wanted to help lessen the pain and that meant keeping her own feelings in check. It was getting harder and harder to do she thought and resolved that she had to give more and expect less from this venture. Good luck with that, she told herself and took a last drink.
After their less than stellar attempt at the Cotton Eyed Joe they had both remained in comfortable silence. She liked to people watch but noticed that as more and more people started coming in the bar was feeling a little stuffy. Riley hadn’t said anything for a long while and she wondered if his mind was miles away, back in Bess, imagining the blushing bride and handsome groom thanking all their guests for coming to the wedding. His wedding. As she thought it, Riley squeezed his eyes shut, as if he had heard the words and was trying to make it go away. She heard him sigh as the cute, spunky, well-endowed waitress named Lacey came back and asked if they wanted another round of beers. Riley shook his head. As she was clearing the bottles from their table she stopped and took a good look at Riley. There was recognition in her eyes.
“Hey, aren’t you that guy?” She asked flashing him a smile. Riley was only half listening.
“I’m sorry?” he said looking confused.
“Yeah, you’re that guy, that soldier. I saw you on TV Oh my God! You’re like a hero or something!” she said excitedly. Riley sat frozen and Brenda saw the light in his eyes slowly go out. She hated Lacey. Hated her.
“Hey, Mikey!” She yelled up to the bar. “We have us the soldier from that picture. You know the one that was on the news cause he saved that soldier and that little girl!” I’m not making it up! He’s right here at my table!” She was yelling pretty loud and with every word she said Brenda could see that Riley was withdrawing into himself.
“You’re famous!” she said stared at him like he was the second coming of Brad Pitt.
“You know, Lacey. Maybe right now isn’t the best time to . . .” Brenda tried to intervene but the news had already traveled from the bar to the stage. The band finished playing their song and the lead singer took up the microphone to make an announcement.
“Hey folks! Just wanted to let you know that we got us a celebrity in the house tonight! Our own Lacey Stillwater has just told us that we have a bonafide American hero here at the Outhouse. You remember him, he was the brave soldier that risked his life to save another American hero, Captain Shane Jenner, may he rest in peace. It was all over the papers and TV, do you all remember?” There was a lot of whooping and hollering form the crowd to verify that they did. Riley looked stricken. People seated nearby had realized who he was and were starting to turn around to look at him. Some were reaching out from their tables to slap him on the back. Others were yelling out their congratulations and comments. Brenda was mortified. She wasn’t any more ready to hear people talk about that damn picture again anymore than Riley was and right now Riley looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole.
“So why don’t you all join me in giving Specialist Riley Favreau, true American Hero, a real Outhouse welcome!” There was thunderous applause and calls for Riley to come to the stage. He just shook his head no and attempted to give them that cordial smile she remembered that never quite reached his eyes. It was certainly different from the smiles he had given her earlier. The crowd parted some to make way for him to go up to the stage but Riley remained seated and simply shook his head, smiled and waved at the crowd, mouthing the word “Thank You.”
“I’m sorry, Riley.” Brenda said and reached out to touch his hand. “I didn’t know they were going to do this.”
“Specialist Favreau’s, still as humble as ever, folks! Seeing as he won’t come up to the stage to receive our thanks, we’d like to dedicate the next song to him and to all our boys and gals still serving in the desert.” The lead singer said and cued the band into “God Bless the USA.” The whole bar sang along with him and people kept trying to send free rounds to Riley’s table. Brenda politely refused them on his behalf and watched him stare at the bottle in his hand as people clapped and stomped their feet around them, waving their own beer bottles and drinks in the air.
“You want to go?” she asked and he looked up. He nodded. She took some bills out of her pocket and threw them on the table. Then she stood up and grabbed him by the hand pulling him through the crowd until they reached the door and stepped out into the cool night air. They walked quickly to the car and got in.
“I am so sorry, Riley.” She said as she started the ignition and pealed out of the parking lot back toward the motel. He didn’t say anything all the way to the motel and she could hardly blame him. She wanted to help him escape one set of problems and here she had led him straight to a place that reminded him of the other set. She parked and they both got out.
“I’m so sorry about what happened tonight. Not exactly the end to the first day I was hoping for.” She said.
“Don’t worry about it.” He said as they went to their rooms.
“You must be tired. “ She said and he nodded.
“Renae?” he called after her. She turned around and faced him.
“Yes?”
“I had fun tonight . . . with you.” He said and she wasn’t sure what to say. His words were unexpected.
“Me too.” She said and smiled. Then she turned around and headed down the hall toward her own room. Two steps forward and three steps back. Their relationship so far was just like a dance, a frustrating dance that made her want to give up some times. It didn’t help that her feeling were all out of whack either. Somedays she just wanted to go up to him and demand that he tell her what happened to Shane on that road outside of Baghdad. Other days, like this one, she struggled with her own feelings, her own loyalties regarding Riley Favreau. She had to remind herself why she was there and make herself remember that she was with Riley for a reason and that was to find out the truth. But tonight being with him made her feel like that purpose was secondary and it scared her because she had felt these feelings before. Not with Jon but with Shane. It was love. She was falling in love with the man who had somehow failed to save her husband’s life.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Nightmare
Someone was pounding on the door. Screaming his name. Riley tried desperately to sit up. Where was he? He looked around frantically in the dark. He couldn’t remember. The pounding continued. Someone wanted inside. Who? He couldn’t make out what they were saying. He felt around. Sheets. Pillows. A bed. He was lying on a bed. More pounding. He made an effort to pull himself up. As far as he could tell there was nothing on top of him. Nothing to prevent him from sitting up. Then why couldn’t he? Panic began to set in. He wanted to turn on a light. He hated the dark. He thought he had left the lamp on before he went to bed last night. Last night. He struggled to remember again where he was, how he had gotten wherever he was but his head hurt. Maybe he was back at home, he suddenly thought relieved that he could remember something. The farmhouse. The pl
ace that had been his home for many weeks now. He took a deep breath. Maybe he should call for some help, he thought. He tried to open his mouth and call for someone, but he couldn’t. No sound came out. More panic. What was wrong? Pounding at the door. The door? What door? The door he shared with Renae’s room, he remembered. But why would someone be pounding on that? It didn’t lock. Anyone could walk right in. But there was no one in the room. He was alone in the dark. Paralyzed, voiceless, and alone. The panic surged through him like a cold rush of water. Finally, the pounding stopped and the door creaked open. He could hear it. His heart was pounding now-a hundred miles an hour. He could feel that someone had entered the room. He could barely make out the figure walking slowly toward the bed. It felt slow and menacing. His breath came faster and faster. He wanted to scream out, ask who was there, call for Renae, Louis or Doreen. As the dark, figure made its way closer to the bed, it began to dawn on him that it was no more than a little over three feet tall. His breath caught in his throat as the figure came closer and as his eyes adjusted to the dark he was able to make out more details than before. Soon the figure was at his side and he could feel it climb up on the bed. Cold shivers filling him as he felt something crawl across his immobilized body, toward his face. An eerie light surrounding it as it neared his face and he could see what it was. He could see who it was. The little face came closer and the light that came from behind gave him a clear look at the features. They were disfigured, almost melted away on one side. Burned. A smattering of singed hairs poking out from the side of that head that was mostly skull with pieces of charred skin attached. The other side of the face was angelic, exotic and perfect in comparison with long locks of dark, wavy hair flowing from it. The eye was dark and inquisitive in comparison to its partner that was nothing more than a sunken socket. The little face flashed a half grimace, half smile and terror filled him in unimaginable ways. He could make out the remains of a blue singed tunic clinging to the charred little body and there was no question. There was no question at all as to who it was. It was the little Iraqi girl he had found in the middle of that godforsaken road all those many months ago. The little girl that had disappeared along with the soldier he had attempted to drag away from the debris of the first explosion, after a second explosion had blown them off the road and into oblivion. He tried to scream, but nothing came out. Then, he felt the icy cold touch of the little girl’s fingers, bones exposed, charred skin scratching against his chin and she cupped her hand around his face and pulled it inches from her own. Riley tried to close his eyes, but they would not obey. He could not take his eyes of her disfigured face or ignore the cold of her tiny hand. Her lips were moving but he was having a hard time making out what she was saying in the dim light that came from behind her. Her voice was an eerie whisper. What was she saying? What the hell was she trying to tell him? His mouth was dry and his throat constricted making it impossible for him to swallow. Fear had taken hold of him completely. The little girl whispered again and this time he could barely make out the words. You let me die! Holy shit! Holy shit! He repeated the words to himself over and over. Just when he thought that he would pass out from the terror, the sheer terror of the encounter he heard another pounding. Heavy pounding. Frantic pounding. But where? The door was already open. The little girl removed her hands from his face and moved them to his throat. She wrapped her tiny fingers around his neck and started to squeeze. He could barely breathe. She was choking him. More pounding .