A Fallen Hero

by Sharon Kimbra Walsh

  Feeling as though he could kick hell out of something, he strode around to the passenger side of the first APC, climbed into the passenger seat, slammed the heavy door shut, locking it viciously, and turning to the driver snapped, “Get the fuck out of here.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Katie sat on the edge of her camp bed, staring unseeingly at her boots. She was both physically and mentally exhausted and her stomach roiled with nausea, adding to her low mood and unhappiness.

  The tent around her was alive with women preparing for their night out at the PX, their laughter, joking and loud conversation proclaiming their high spirits. She herself felt distanced from the buoyant humor. She had neither the energy nor the enthusiasm for joining in. If she was honest with herself, all she wanted to do was curl up on her camp bed and wallow in her misery, howl out her sadness for all to hear.

  She missed Joe, craved to hear his voice, feel his arms around her, experience the safety, protection and love that he brought to her whenever he was with her.

  He had not been in touch with her since their return from the patrol two days previously and the harsh words spoken between them. She regretted losing her temper with him, had eventually realized that it had been her own stupidity at misunderstanding what he had said that had created the argument. She had not given him a chance to defend himself, had just left him alone, so had not even had the opportunity to say goodbye to him that night. Her loneliness at being without him was almost a physical pain inside her but her innate stubbornness and pride prevented her from going to search him out to apologize.

  As intolerable as her situation already was, it had been compounded by another problem which she had never in her wildest dreams thought could happen. She was certain she was pregnant again. With all the situational stress she had been subjected to over the previous weeks, she thought that the absence of her monthly was the result but the nausea had started the day after arriving back from patrol as had other symptoms, and after doing the mathematics, she now felt she could not sink any lower in spirit.

  She was thousands of miles away from her infant daughter whose absence she could barely tolerate. She was redeployed to a combat zone where she had no business being and after the fraught events both personal and in combat recently, she realized it had been a futile belief on her part that she could persuade Joe to give up his vendetta and come home. Now, to make matters considerably worse, she was pregnant.

  She knew that her options were severely limited. She could see the base doctor and immediately be sent home, leaving Joe here to carry out whatever he intended to do, or she could keep her pregnancy quiet for as long as she could, hoping and praying that the strenuous exertion of patrols, the heat and the persistent daily stressors would not bring on a miscarriage.

  Common sense told her that she should just go home. What purpose was she serving by being in Afghanistan? The antagonism, which kept flaring between her and Joe—hurtful to them both—was causing irreparable damage to their marriage. If it went on, they would end up hating each other, destroying everything that had been between them.

  Joe was never going to quit until he had made peace with himself and the demons inside him. Katie had to stay by his side and pick up the pieces, if there were any pieces to pick up, and yet, to be so near him and yet so far was torture.

  Each time she stepped outside the tent she searched for him, waiting for him to appear with the easy grin on his face that she loved so much and the warm look in his eyes that was reserved purely for her. However, he never appeared. She saw him neither in the mess nor anywhere about the base and she wondered over and over again if he was avoiding her.

  She needed to see him—to speak to him—tell him about the baby before it was too late, try and resolve matters between them.

  A movement beside her on the bed jerked Katie roughly from her thoughts. Looking up, she saw that it was a woman called Lou who had joined her. The two had struck up a friendship and although not close, they got on well. Lou reminded her of Wanda, a close woman friend from her first deployment to Afghanistan and with who she still remained in touch. A lance corporal aircraft technician, Lou Weber was a tall stocky woman of twenty-five, jovial and good-natured.

  She smiled at Katie, revealing sparkling white teeth and said, “Now, Katie Anderson. I don’t know what devils you may be wrestling with but some of us are hopping off to the PX for a night out and you are coming along, no arguments. You’ve been like a zombie since coming back from that patrol, so a night out will do you good.”

  Shaking her head negatively, Katie opened her mouth to refuse the invitation but Lou interrupted, “I’m not taking no for an answer. Go put some lippie on or do whatever you have to do to get yourself dolled up in this godforsaken place then we’ll be off.”

  Lou got to her feet, winked at Katie and sauntered off to join other women who were putting final touches to make-up and changes of uniform.

  Katie stared after Lou for a minute, ready to jump to her feet and firmly refuse the invitation when suddenly she paused. The thought of spending a night alone in the tent with nothing but her anxious thoughts about Joe and her situation to keep her company was something she couldn’t deal with. She needed an opportunity to relax, to be with loud, noisy people out for a good time.

  Just one time she wanted to be able to dismiss all the anxieties and fears that had been welling up inside her, strangling her enthusiasm and love for life over the last few days. If Joe was at the PX tonight, that would be an added bonus. If he wasn’t? Well, she would try and find out where his tent was and talk to him, whether he liked it or not.

  “Come on girl. Get that butt of yours in gear. You’ve got five minutes,” Lou suddenly shouted to her.

  “All right, all right,” Katie called back, smiling a little.

  Quickly she got out her make-up, applied some mascara and some gloss lipstick, fluffed up her short hair, grabbed her flashlight and joined the group of laughing women waiting to leave.

  “Helluva good decision.”

  A woman called Jessie acknowledged Katie’s arrival in the group and smiled at her.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s get going and have some fun,” Lou called out and there were loud catcalls and cheers in response.

  The women moved out of the tent into the sultry evening air. The moon was full, the stars powdering the black sky like a scattering of diamonds. It was warm and a soft breeze stirred Katie’s hair.

  The night caused such a powerful nostalgia within her that she suddenly wanted to run back inside the tent, bury herself in her sleeping bag and cry out her heartache. She couldn’t do this without Joe. It wasn’t within her capabilities anymore. She didn’t have the strength.

  Lou nudged her arm. Katie glanced at her and managed a small smile. Straightening her shoulders, she felt a surge of determination that she was not going to hide away and that she would make every effort to forget about her problems for that night.

  It appeared that everyone on Camp Roosevelt had had the same idea of letting their hair down and Katie and her companions joined a crowd of other men and women heading for the PX.

  Katie initially allowed the other women to make the conversation but felt herself relaxing slightly and even experienced a small rise in her spirits. For tonight, at least, she would try to forget her problems, attempt to erase Joe from her mind.

  If by some luck he was in the PX, she would attempt to get him alone and tell him about her pregnancy. Feeling a little calmer now that she had some form of plan—mediocre though it was—Katie forced herself to join in the conversation swirling around her. She was even able to laugh at some of the ribald jokes that were Lou’s forte.

  Eventually, they arrived at the PX, along with what Katie thought looked like half the base. Entering through the main doors, she had to reach down inside herself for an ironclad control to stop looking around for Joe but found that she was unable to stop herself from doing so. She didn’t see him among the crowd and was disappointed and
saddened.

  The women entered the main room of the PX to find it almost full with loud boisterous service personnel and they had to wend their way through laughing men and women to the counter where they ordered cans of Coke. Once they had their drinks, they fought their way to a space alongside one of the walls.

  Sipping her drink, Katie remembered the last time she had been there. She and Joe had let the whole of the base know that they were an item. They had danced, had almost made love against a wall and Joe had declared that he wasn’t ever going to let her go. Katie felt the sharp sting of tears in her eyes caused by the pain of the memories that the place was stirring in her.

  Lou glanced at her friend, nudged her and smiled. “Hey,” she said, raising her voice slightly above the noise. “No tears, okay?”

  Katie smiled, swallowed and nodded. “No tears,” she reiterated.

  A few minutes later, music blared out and people began to drag tables and chairs to line the sides of the room leaving a large space in the center. Men and women began to dance to the heavy beat, whooping and cheering, the noise level rising deafeningly.

  Grabbing Katie by the arm, Lou yelled exuberantly. “Come on, honey. Let’s do it.”

  Almost dropping her can, Katie laughed, quickly placed it on the floor and followed her friend out to join the other women who were already dancing. As soon as she began to dance, Katie felt herself relax even further. She loved to dance and she was good at it.

  For the next few minutes, she almost forgot about her problems, losing herself in the thumping music and when the track finished, she stayed where she was, waiting for the next one to start.

  Joe Anderson stood at the counter with Louis Eastman and Corporal Reed, waiting to be served cold drinks. His struggle to stop himself from staring around the room to see if Katie was there was failing dismally. His longing to see her was becoming all-consuming, however, there was a small part of him that hated the inevitable resurgence of the powerful feelings she was always able to arouse in him.

  From out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dan Reed suddenly straighten abruptly, his attention diverted toward the dance floor. The young corporal hastily put his Coke on the counter and, turning to Joe said, “Excuse me, Staff Sergeant,” and move—somewhat eagerly—toward the dancers.

  Joe turned to watch him go and immediately noticed Katie. His eyes narrowed as he watched the young marine make a beeline toward his wife. He glared as the unsuspecting corporal tapped Katie on the shoulder as she danced with her back to him. Katie spun round, recognized who it was and directed one of her brilliant smiles at Dan Reed. He said something to her, she inclined her head and they began dancing to the heavy beat together.

  Joe felt a tic start to beat alongside the scar on his face and a slow, cold rage began to build up in the pit of his stomach. He watched as the young marine moved closer to Katie and put a hand on her waist, bending his head toward her when she said something to him and laughed. Katie herself put one of her hands on his arm and to Joe it appeared that she was very receptive to his attentions. He clenched his fists and the sound of the music began to fade as the fury threatened to explode out of all proportion to the situation.

  He took a step forward, so angry now that he wanted to go and punch the young marine who had had the audacity to saunter up to his wife and dance with her. All reason was leaving him. The fact that Corporal Reed had no idea that Katie was his wife was the furthest thing from his mind.

  Louis Eastman noticing his friend’s body jerk forward and his posture become rigid, obviously realized in which direction his gaze lay and exclaimed, “Fuck!” beneath his breath.

  He grabbed Joe’s forearm in a steel grip.

  Joe stared down at the hand on his arm, began to shake it off when Louis said, “Leave it, Joe.”

  Joe glanced back at Katie then at his friend. He remained silent, not even arguing with Louis’ order.

  “Leave it, Joe,” Louis repeated. “It means nothing. He’s a kid wet behind the ears and you beat the crap outta him, you’re finito. Listen, pal. Katie loves you. I have never seen anyone love someone as she loves you. I’m not normally a mushy guy, but I speak the truth when I say she adores you. Now, leave her some space and chill.”

  Still digging his fingers into the flesh of Joe’s arm, inflicting the pain so it would penetrate through Joe’s apparent fog of aggression, Louis held his gaze.

  After long minutes of thinking that his friend was going to ignore him, Louis felt the muscles in Joe’s arm begin to relax bit by bit. At last, he felt able to release his arm but he didn’t trust his friend anymore.

  He watched carefully as Joe turned to focus his gaze back on Katie and the corporal. Outwardly, he looked nonchalant and emotionless, but having known him for so long, Louis could feel the tension thrumming in his friend’s body and he was gritting his teeth with what appeared to be an ironclad control.

  Dancing and laughing with the young marine corporal, Katie felt flattered by the obvious admiration in the young man’s eyes. He was good-looking with black cropped hair, dark eyes and a muscular physique.

  In different circumstances, she might have been attracted to her admirer but her heart belonged only to one other. It was when she glanced over her partner’s shoulder that Katie abruptly stopped dancing.

  Joe was standing at the counter with Sergeant Eastman, and he was staring at her. She could quite clearly see that his face was devoid of expression but even across the few meters of floor space, she noticed the cold look in his blue eyes and the obvious tension in his body.

  Their eyes locked and held but Joe’s expression did not change, then he did something that stunned Katie into flight mode. He turned his back on her without the slightest acknowledgment of her presence.

  Katie felt every atom in her body crumble into a devastating sadness. She suddenly needed to get out of the PX, away from the suddenly stifling room and the noise and heat. She wanted to hide in a corner and cry out all her hurt. It had suddenly become too much for her and the sight of Joe so near to her but turning his back had created so much pain inside her that she needed to escape to be on her own to deal with it.

  Forcing a smile onto her face, Katie shouted to Corporal Reed, “I’m sorry, I have to go. I don’t feel well.”

  Dan Reed responded immediately, “Let me see you back to your tent.”

  Katie held up a hand. “No thanks, I’ll be fine, but thank you, Dan.”

  She turned to the dancing Lou and repeated her lie about feeling ill. Lou stopped dancing and touched Katie’s arm. “Will you be okay?”

  Katie nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she replied then quickly moved away from the dancing people and headed as fast as she could toward the doors.

  Turning at that moment, Joe saw Katie leave. He made a move to go after her but again Louis grabbed his arm. “Leave her, Joe. Let her go.”

  Joe looked down at the fingers grasping his arm. “She’s my wife,” he answered and gave Louis such an icy look that it was clear he immediately knew that he was overstepping the boundaries of Joe’s patience.

  Removing his grasp, he shrugged. “Your funeral, pal,” was his final remark.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thrusting her way through the crowd loitering outside the doors of the PX, Katie hurried a few paces distant from the building, looking wildly around her for a secluded place where she could go to regain her composure.

  Without fully realizing the direction she was going, she turned to her right and strode around the side of the building, finally remembering that this was the place where she and Joe had kissed on the one and only time they had both come to the PX together.

  Tears started to roll down her cheeks as she hurried along the side of the building to the patch of blackness where the security lights did not quite reach. Out of breath, she finally stopped, one hand resting on the wall, bent over slightly as she tried to control the sobs that threatened to spill out of her. She raised a hand to her mouth to stem the soft whimpers
but the tears fell harder and she began to cry in earnest.

  Following behind her, Joe saw Katie’s shadow, heard her soft crying and stopped a few meters away from her. All jealousy and anger fled as he listened to her grief and pain. He had done this with his callous and selfish disregard for her feelings. Not wanting to scare her, he called her name softly.

  He saw her head jerk up and she spun around. “Joe?” she queried.

  Hearing the fear in her voice, Joe swallowed, feeling a surge of guilt.

  “It’s me,” he replied and began walking slowly toward her.

  He stopped a foot away from her and they stared at each other. Then suddenly—without any hesitation, as though both had had the thought at the same time—Joe walked the final foot to Katie, she moved toward him then she was in his arms, crying as though her heart would break.

  Joe hugged her tightly. “Katie, please don’t cry like that. It’s killing me.”

  Her whole body was shaking and trembling and heard her sobs smothered against his shoulder. The crying had a weary tone to it and he realized that she was exhausted.

  He hugged her tighter, whispering, “Ssshhh, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Katie,” but was unsure as to whether his words were penetrating the storm of tears.

  Katie cried for a long time but eventually her sobs started to taper off and at last, except for her shoulders hitching with stray sobs and some slight childlike sniffing, she was quiet, although she didn’t move.

  Waiting for her to calm down and regain her composure, Joe continued to hold her, enjoying the feel of her body in his arms and catching the clean smell of her hair. After a few more minutes, Katie drew slightly away from him, wiping one hand across her face.