Scars and Stars

by Dustin Stevens

  “I stood rail straight and looked at him. A few seconds passed and I said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. We’ve only been here a week.”

  “Han shook his head and walked to Jack, grabbing him by the jaw. He pushed Jack’s head towards the ceiling and finished the cut, connecting his incision and Jack’s left earlobe. As he pushed his head upward a few small places pulled open and blood ran down Jack’s neck and seeped into his shirt.

  “Jack was pale and bathed in sweat, but somehow he remained silent and upright.

  “Major Han walked over to me and held the gleaming knife inches from my face. “I would put this knife directly across your throat as well, but somebody has to help his sorry ass back to camp. I want you to look at him and see the pain you caused him. I want you to smell his burned flesh in the air and see his blood on the tip of my blade.

  “Next time I see you two, it’s your turn.”

  “Without another word, Han spun on his heel and marched upstairs. Most of the men followed him out, only two remaining behind with Jack and me.

  “I walked to my brother and untied his hands, the ropes chewed down into his wrists. He panted hard and sweat poured from his face. He didn’t even try to stop or help me.

  “I hoisted his right arm across my shoulders and helped him up the stairs, carrying most of his weight as his body fell limp against me. Once outside, I hoisted him to my shoulder and covered the ground back to camp as fast as I could.

  “The guards on the perimeter were waiting at the gate as I stormed by with Jack on my shoulder. Many soldiers stared as I passed and some called out to ask what had happened, but I paid them no heed as I went straight to the doctor’s tent.”

  My uncle stopped again for a second and exhaled. As he did so he opened his eyes and for the first time I noticed his hands had been clenched into tight fists.

  “I burst through the tent flap and dumped Jack on the floor at their feet. Quincel was the first to reach him and said, “That sumbitch Han and his Korean Grin.”

  “Is he going to be alright?” I asked.

  “Quincel bent low over Jack and ran his finger over the cut. “He should be, though it’ll be a few days before we know for sure. This one doesn’t look to be too deep; he hasn’t nicked any major veins or arteries.”

  “Quincel stood and crossed to the corner for supplies. I saw Jack crack open his eyes and I fell to my knees beside him and grabbed his hands in mine. “I’m so sorry Jack. I was just trying to do what you wanted to me.”

  “Jack’s eyes parted a fraction more and his head moved an inch from side to side. “Do not apologize,” he whispered. “You did what I told you to, what I would have done.”

  “His eyes then closed again and Quincel returned and began daubing iodine over the wounds. I stood and moved off to our corner of the tent and sat with my hands draped over my knees to keep watch.

  “I didn’t move or eat or sleep for two solid days thereafter.”

  With that my uncle fell silent for several long minutes. I could hear a few laughs from inside and a few leaves rattle in the breeze from the tree overhead, but everything else was silent.

  “This picture was taken by Mama some time later when we finally made it back,” Uncle Cat said, turning the page once again. “The wounds had heeled by that time but you can still see the thick scar tissue running from ear to ear caused that day.

  “That sick bastard Han and his damn Korean Grin.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “Those next few days were some of the hardest of my life,” my uncle said. He hadn’t broken for his customary pause and the sudden sound of his voice startled me for a moment.

  “For two solid days I sat in the corner and watched vigil over my brother. Every so often Quincel or Rothchild would ask me to dab ointment on his wounds or change a bandage, but otherwise I remained motionless.

  “Several times the officers sent men from the 3rd infantry to summon me to the fire, but each time I turned them away. After a half day they realized I wasn’t budging and began sending food, but I didn’t touch that either.

  “If Jack couldn’t eat, I wouldn’t eat.

  “After Jack told me I did what I had to do, he fell into a fitful sleep that lasted an entire day. He would thrash and moan and sweat would run from him, but there was nothing we could do but watch and wait.

  “On the second day Jack opened his eyes and drank some water before falling right back asleep. This time it was more relaxed and peaceful and when he awoke again on the morning of the third day, he had made it through the toughest part.

  “That morning when the infantryman from the 3rd came to bring us food, I told them I would meet with the officers at dusk.”

  Uncle Cat paused for a second and bobbed his head up and down with the rhythm of his rocking chair. I could never tell if he was debating something or just gathering his thoughts, but either way I gave him time to do it.

  “That evening Jack took the first food he’d had in days, managing to keep down most of his bowl of soup. Once Jack ate I too had some bread and soup and the food did wonders for my tiring body.

  “I left Jack sleeping in the tent and stole into the night air, careful to make a wide arc and to let nobody see me going near the fire of the officers. It took me twice as long as usual to get there and when I did I found them arranged just as before.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Atwood snorted as I approached.

  “I had more important things to tend to,” I said. There was more I could have added, like a couple of cheap jabs at Atwood, but I decided to let them pass.

  “How is your brother?” Phelps asked.

  “He’s coming around. He slept through the night last night and he managed to keep food down this evening. Doc thinks he’ll be fine soon enough.”

  “Spires nodded his head. “I’m guessing you know why we asked you here.”

  “I stared into the fire for a moment and said, “Yeah, I know. This isn’t about my brother; it’s about what we can do for you.”

  “There are over three hundred men here—“ Atwood started to say, but Spires held up a hand to silence him.

  “You’re right,” Spires said. “We need to know if you are still up to the task. We also need to get your input about finding a suitable replacement for your brother.”

  “The mention of a replacement caught me by surprise and for a moment I stared back with my mouth agape. Jack and I had been together since birth and the notion of doing this without him made the hair on my neck stand on end.

  “Before I could respond I heard the soft crunch of boots on gravel and a familiar voice said, “Who the hell you thinking of replacing?”

  “I didn’t have to turn around; I already knew who was behind me. Instead I watched the look on their faces as my brother emerged from the shadows and took his place beside me.

  “The utter shock on Atwood’s face was one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever seen in my life.

  “Jack moved a little slower and stiffer than usual and as he sat beside me I heard him grunt softly. I waited for him to situate himself and together we both stared at the three of them.

  “Neither of us said anything.

  “The three of them sat for a moment before Phelps asked, “You sure you’re up to this? It can take a man weeks to recover from something like that, if not longer.”

  “Jack gave them a sullen look. “I’m here aren’t I? None of us want to be locked up any longer than we have to be. If my getting in that barrel means this doesn’t happen to anybody else, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  “Spires nodded again. “How long before you’ll be ready to go?”

  “Moving just his eyes, Jack looked upward and said, “New moon isn’t far off. I’ll be ready by the time it gets here.”

  “Spires slid his gaze from Jack to me. “In his condition, a large part of the responsibility here falls to you. You up for it?”

  “The question offended me, but I held it in. “Jus
t so long as that son of a bitch Han gets what he has coming to him.”

  “Atwood smiled. “Listen to the young man with the big words.”

  “Without thinking I muttered, “You want to be next?”

  “Atwood’s face grew several shades of red. “Boy, if you were half the man I am...”

  “I am half the man you are,” I said, motioning to his midsection, “which is why I’m going instead of you.”

  “Phelps and Spires both cracked a smile and Spires said, “That’s enough” as Atwood swelled with rage.

  “Phelps fished into his pocket and pulled out a long sleeve of yellow material and tossed it across the fire to Jack. Jack unfurled a kind of plastic film, thin and very light weight.

  “This here is called Ioban, they use it in surgery. You pull the back off the yellow film and press it to the skin like tape.”

  “He pulled up a pants leg to reveal a long and jagged scar. “I took a piece of mortar in the leg in Paris, ripped one hell of a gash. After sewing it up the doc gave me this to put over it. Helps hold the skin together, keeps it from getting infected.”

  “Jack glanced at it. “Will I still be able to move?”

  “Just like putting a piece of tape over it,” Phelps echoed.

  “Jack folded it back up, put it in his pocket and said, “Thanks.”

  “The five of us sat looking at one another for several long moments before Jack said, “Is there anything else you boys want or can I go get some rest?”

  “Phelps nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

  “As each of us stood Spires said, “This should be the last time we see each other. Good luck gentlemen.”

  “We both met his eye and nodded. Without another word, we walked away.”

  My uncle paused again and flipped the next page in the album. It was little different from the rest of the pages in the book in that time had worn it to a deep yellow.

  It was very different from the other pages in that I couldn’t see a thing on it.

  “Uncle Cat, what is it?” I asked.

  My uncle raised a finger and outlined an edge. As he did so I could notice a slight difference in the shades of yellow and it dawned on me what the page held.

  “Ioban,” my uncle said. “After what it did for Jack in those next few days, it earned a place in the book.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  My uncle raised his hips from the chair and leaned forward, resting the album on the ground at his feet. He interlocked his fingers and extended his arms as far out as they would reach and drew himself up, swinging his arms in a wide arc so they reached above his head. The vertebras in his back cracked one after another and he let out a loud and satisfying sigh.

  He moved forward to the edge of the porch, placed his left hand on the support post and leaned forward until his shoulder pressed against it. Tilting his head to the side, he rested his head against the post and stood for a few moments taking in the sights around him.

  “One of the men in the 3rd had served as an interpreter before being captured. In the days leading up to our departure the officers decided to send him with the water patrol each day in hopes he might catch something.

  “Turned out they were right.

  “On the day before we were to hide, he overheard the guards laughing about the job Han had done on Jack. One of the men had been present for the scene and said it hadn’t sat well with Han that Jack didn’t make a sound. That next day, he intended to try again.

  “The interpreter ran to the officers the second he returned to camp. They summoned us back to the fire and it was decided that we would depart that night, a day early.

  “Jack’s recovery had been coming along, though there was no way of knowing for sure just how far. He never made a sound one way or another and shook me off each time I asked. They only things I had to go on were his eating and sleeping, both of which were almost back to normal.

  “The docs continued to clean his wounds and rub salve on them and by the time we found out we were going ahead of schedule there were only a few small cuts that still bore a scab.

  “That afternoon the 3rd brought us each double rations of food and two of the plastic bags Phelps had promised us, along with two sets of winter fatigues. Men wore the clothes over so as to not be seen carrying clothes through camp, then stripped down and left the heavier clothes behind.

  “We each ate one ration of bread and soup early in the afternoon, slept until just before dusk, then rose and finished the food. We folded the winter fatigues into the plastic bags and pressed them to our chests as the doctors secured them by wrapping surgical tape around our torsos. Once we put our own fatigues back on, you couldn’t even tell they were there.

  “We just looked like we were full and healthy again, the same as we had been six months before.

  “I went first that night, stealing through the back flap and circling the main tent through the darkest of shadows. I found the barrels lined up as promised and climbed into the first one left standing upright. It was a tight fit and I had to force my legs and hips down tight before I could pull the lid back on over my head.

  “The barrel was moist and cold and smelled of mildew. The wood was thick with frost where the previous day’s water residue had frozen and after having slept in the tent, the barrel felt frigid. A few moments later I heard Jack climb into his barrel.

  “After that, it was an interminable wait for morning.”

  My uncle paused for a moment and lifted his head from the post. He focused on something in the distance and for a second his gaze seemed to harden, but just as fast it softened and he shook his head.

  “Sleep was impossible that night. I passed the time by fighting to make sure my body didn’t freeze up crammed inside the barrel. Every few minutes I would clench and unclench a particular muscle group several times, trying to keep blood flowing as best I could. By morning my feet were numb, but otherwise I wasn’t in too bad of shape.

  “The inside of the barrel was dark and it wasn’t until I heard voices outside that I knew morning had arrived. One of the men came and knocked twice on top of my barrel to let me know we were moving and a few seconds later I felt myself being lifted onto the wagon and positioned just so.

  “They lifted Jack and I onto the wagon first and put the other barrels around us in case the guards decided to take a glance in any of them.

  “The sudden movement jolted my stiff and aching body and new pains shot down my lower back and legs. As the wagon began moving each bump in the road brought another stab with it and I had to bite my lip to keep from making any sounds.

  “After several minutes the wagon stopped and I could hear soft talking as one by one the barrels around us were removed. My adrenaline began to pump and my body became taut as each passing second brought me one step closer to escape.

  “All of the other barrels were filled and back in position by the time they got to us. I heard a voice whisper, “Here we go boys. The waters running fast and cold today so take a deep breath and brace yourself. Once in the water, you’ll need to get about a hundred yards downstream before you’re out of sight.”

  “Another voice added, “And remember, Han’s coming looking for you today and he’s going to send the hounds of Hell when he finds out you’re gone. You boys hit the grounds running and get somebody back here as fast as you can.”

  “I felt myself being lifted and carried through the air, and heard the first voice say, “Good luck gentlemen.” I swallowed in two gulps of breath before being plunged into the iciest, coldest Hell I have ever known.

  “The lid pulled off and bright light flooded in as freezing water rushed around me. For a second my entire body locked up as the freezing water jolted my system.

  “Only after a moment did my mind take over and force the rest of me into action. Bracing my feet against the bottom of the barrel I pushed as hard as I could and torpedoed out through the water. Spreading my arms in front of me I pulled in long strokes and frog kicked as hard as
my legs would allow.

  “I closed my eyes tight and could hear nothing as I counted off strokes through the water. The pain of the cold water pawed at my body and after awhile I realized I was screaming into the frigid water.

  “When my lungs could take it no longer I flipped myself onto my back and poked my face above the surface. My mouth was the first thing to exit the water and I took in several long pulls of air before raising my nose and eyes and looking back to the beach.

  “I was over eighty yards from where the men were finishing loading our barrels onto the cart and I pulled my face back beneath the surface and swam on. I kicked and kicked for another fifteen or twenty strokes until I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me to the surface.

  “That’s far enough,” Jack whispered as he crouched in the water beside me. “Any longer in this water and hypothermia’s bound to set in. If not for the adrenaline, we’d already be ice.”

  “We both crawled from the water and into a small clump of pine trees where we peeled off our wet fatigues. With unresponsive and blue fingers we peeled the surgical tape from our skin and using two old t-shirts the doctors had given us dried off as best we could. We then pulled on the winter fatigues and put the wet clothes back into the bags.

  “Placing a couple of large stones in each of the bags we sealed them up with the surgical tape and tossed them into the river. They floated for a few feet atop the swift current before disappearing to the bottom.

  “The fresh clothes didn’t warm us up much at all as we stumbled alongside the river. Silent and drawing in painful breaths of air, it was a good ten or fifteen minutes before we loosened up enough to move to a light jog.

  “Our boots were the only thing we didn’t have a fresh pair of and the outside of them became stiff and frozen from the cold air. The soles were much heavier than usual and every so often we had to stop to rest the burning in our legs.