by PJ Sharon
I wanted to read the one letter I’d read a hundred times—the one where he said he thought Alex and I would probably end up together. But after seeing what happened to Alex, I had no idea how that could happen now, and honestly, I wasn’t sure my heart could take another reminder about what we’d all lost and what might have been.
Chapter 4
I pulled the Rabbit into the parking garage at the Veterans’ hospital, having gotten lost three times before finally stopping to ask for directions. Lee had asked me to take care of his car while he was gone and I did my best to keep the old VW going. It was like thirty years old, carried multiple dents—war wounds of its own—and had a couple of hundred thousand miles on it. To everyone’s amazement, the little black car still ran like a champ, thanks to Brig, who often spent more time working on it than on making his furniture.
I passed the information desk and went straight up to the third floor where Mrs. Cooper had said Alex’s room was. He had been transferred here from Walter Reed hospital four days ago, just in time for Levi’s funeral. The smell of antiseptic and sickness filled my nostrils, making my stomach regret that I hadn’t eaten. I swallowed hard and took a breath, determined not to back out. My heart thumped a swift beat as I closed in on my destination. What could I say that would make Alex feel better about everything that had happened? Nothing, I suspected. I would just have to try not to stare at his leg, or cry, or make stupid jokes.
My stomach tipped again as the reality of his loss hit me. What would I say? Probably something embarrassing, since the last time I’d had a real conversation with him I had made a fool of myself and told him I loved him. I was only fifteen then and by the look on his face he had not been happy about my big confession—something about bad timing, he’d said. We had only seen each other a couple of times since then, and he seemed to go out of his way not to be alone with me, as if he were avoiding any more of my mortifying declarations.
I rounded a corner and stopped.
“I am not touching that thing! Why can’t you people just leave me alone?”
Crap. My knack for bad timing had apparently not improved any. I stood outside the door and listened in on what was obviously a session with the physical therapist.
“Look, Mr. Cooper…Alex, you have to learn to bandage the stump to keep down the swelling. If you want your leg to fit into a prosthesis…”
“I don’t want a prosthesis. I don’t want anything from you. I just want to get the hell out of here and go home!”
“You can’t go home until we get this swelling under control and get you fitted properly…”
“Get out!” The sound of a tray crashing to the floor made me jump. “I said, get out!”
A woman—probably in her thirties—wearing scrubs, a white coat, and sneakers, burst out of the room and then slowed when she saw me. “If you’re here to visit Corporal Cooper,” she raised her brows and brushed past me, “I hope you brought combat gear.”
I sucked in my breath and dove into the icy waters. I froze in the doorway. I wished I could have prepared myself better. He had on gym shorts and a green tee shirt and he was swinging his leg—what was left of it—onto the bed. His eyes came up to mine and my eyes went back to his leg. The angry red stump below his knee joint captured my full attention like a train wreck I couldn’t ignore. He whipped the blanket across his legs and glared at me. I looked away.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped.
“Nice to see you, too,” I said, keeping my eyes trained on his. I took another step into the room, fighting the urge to turn and run. Instead, I went straight to the bed and hugged him as hard as I could. After a few seconds, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back, a firm embrace that spoke more words than either of us could find to say. I held back my tears, determined to stay strong. When I pulled away, he showed the flicker of a smile. I took it as a sign he didn’t want to throw me out. A fresh scar over his right eye and faded bruises on his neck were the only visible injuries apart from his leg.
He had changed so much that I hardly recognized him. His blond hair was sun bleached and cut military short, his jaw and nose sharp angled and hard. Everything about him seemed harder. He was no longer the skinny, six foot-two computer geek with braces, acne, and glasses—the boy who used to pull my hair and tease me about my freckles. At nineteen, he was a man, his face darkly tanned with a few days’ beard growth that took me completely by surprise. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t this. I heard my pulse pound in my ears before I registered his words.
“Are you going to have a seat or just stand there?”
“Um…yeah. I thought maybe I should wait for an invitation. It didn’t sound like you wanted company.” I stepped over the mess on the floor and sat in the chair next to the bed. “You were kind of tough on her, don’t you think?”
He studied me for a long time and then looked down, the blankets unable to conceal the missing right lower leg and foot. He looked out the window. “I’m just sick of being poked and prodded. When they aren’t taking blood, pumping me full of drugs, or waking me in the middle of the night to take my temperature, they’re harassing me about the stupid leg.” His eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “I can’t wait to get out of this place.”
“Maybe if you cooperate a little more, you can get out sooner.” I said it in my most cheerful voice.
“They can kiss my…” he caught himself and then a small smile crept over his lips. “Sorry. I’m not used to being around civilians, let alone being in the company of a pretty girl.”
My ears heated up. “Did they teach charm in the Marines, or are you messing with me?”
He looked me up and down, his face darkening with a reddish tinge. “I guess a lot has changed, hasn’t it?” An awkward silence settled between us. “You let your hair grow out,” he said at last.
I would bet a pink glow had reached my face by now. Being fair skinned and Irish meant I wore embarrassment like a waving red flag. I fiddled with the buttons on my blouse and tucked a curl behind my ear. “There was nobody around pulling my hair, so I figured it was safe to wear it a little longer.”
He smiled at that, but kept his focus on his hands. “How’s your mom?”
“She’s having a tough time. You know how she is…was…about Lee.” My voice dropped a notch lower and cracked when I said his name. I will not cry, I will not cry, I chanted as I took slow breaths in through my nose.
“Yeah. They were pretty tight.” Alex glanced up at me, his pupils large and his eyes a startling green I hadn’t remembered, watery and bright like the sea. He had a wistful look on his face as if he had stepped back in time in his mind. “I used to wish she were my mom,” he said. “Even though she worked hard, she always had dinner on the table or was making pies or cookies or something. Whenever I hung out at your house, she made me feel like part of the family.”
I was glad to talk about the past. Our childhood seemed a safe place where we could find common ground and avoid the pieces of ourselves that were so obviously missing. I didn’t think either of us was ready to talk about Levi. But then again, reminiscing about my mother doting on my brother like she was always trying to make up for something didn’t offer much appeal either.
“Your mom’s cool, too,” I said, attempting to shift the topic away from my dysfunctional family life. “She always says ‘hi’ when she sees me out running.” I suddenly wished I hadn’t brought up running. It was another reminder of what he’d lost. I couldn’t think of one thing to talk about that wouldn’t be painful or awkward.
Alex must have felt the shift back to reality too. He let out a slow breath and leaned his head back on the pillow and stared up at the tiled ceiling, apparently trying to stay focused on the current conversation. “Yeah, she’s friendly to the neighbors at least.” A note of sarcasm infused his tone and his eyes went distant as he elaborated. “After my dad left, Mom buried herself in work, climbing the corporate ladder and all. Let’s put it this way, if it
wasn’t for dinners at your house, I would have been living on Hot Pockets and waffles.” He flashed a half grin and then looked my way again, his dimple sending a curl of warmth to my belly.
“Hey, do you remember the time Lee and I ran away and hid out in the woods at the fort for like three days? We packed so many leftovers from your fridge that we thought we could last a month.”
The three of us had built a fort into the side of a hill down by the river that fed into the lake. It was miles from the house and we were all sworn to secrecy about its location. They were twelve or thirteen at the time, Alex running away from his parents’ divorce, Levi running away from whatever part of himself he couldn’t seem to escape no matter how far he ran. As usual, I was both conspirator and accomplice, covering for them and worrying about the consequences.
Alex had perked up while telling the story. I tried to keep the mood light. “With you two chow hounds, you were lucky to last the three days. Mom was frantic. She had Brig out searching the woods every day. It was a good thing Lee left a note or she would have had the police on your trail.”
“How is the General?” He relaxed and his guard dropped. His face looked softer and younger, the hard edges of manhood smoothed out by memories of his boyhood, more like the Alex I’d known.
My pounding pulse settled and then I looked at the outline of his missing leg again, and my breath caught. I’d almost forgotten for a second. I cleared my throat. “Oh, you know Brig. Same as always. Tough as nails on the outside and soft as mashed potatoes on the inside.”
“I doubt there’s another person alive who would describe your grandfather as soft in any way. Does he still have those guys over for poker on Friday nights?”
“Not so often anymore. Maybe once a month or so. You’d think they were plotting to take over the war themselves the way they hide out in Brig’s workshop until all hours, not wanting to be disturbed.”
A flash of something indefinable crossed his face and then it was gone, replaced by a grimace as he shifted his injured leg under the covers.
“Does it hurt much?” Stupid question. “I mean should I get a nurse?” I started to stand, but he waved me off.
“No. It’s not that bad. It aches some, but mostly it itches. I try to scratch it, but it’s weird. It itches below the…never mind. You didn’t come here to talk about this.” He motioned to the leg as if it were luggage that didn’t belong to him.
I looked around at the mess on the floor. “Should I get someone to clean this up?”
“Don’t worry about it. Nurse Betty will be by with my pills shortly. She’ll take care of it.” His voice was filled with bitterness and I couldn’t help but think of how much he had changed from the boy I’d known. Alex had always been quiet and shy, uncomfortable with people unless he had a computer in front of him or some electronic gadget he could show off. Beyond his geek-like exterior, there was a goofy kind of sweetness underneath. He was the light to Levi’s dark. Bitterness had never been part of his nature. I hoped in time he could get past it. I missed that boy, and wasn’t at all sure I knew anything about the man in front of me.
I bent over and picked up the tray, stacking the plastic dishes and utensils on it and setting it on the rolling table nearby. “It’s not like a Marine to let someone else pick up after him.” When I caught him checking me out as I bent over, he looked away. I felt heat rise in my face and ignored it, determined not to be distracted. “It’s also not like a Marine to give up. You should be doing everything you can to get back on your feet.” Crap. Did I really just say that?
“You’re kidding, right?” His face lost any sign of good humor.
“I just meant you should be trying to get better. They do amazing things with prosthetics these days. I was reading up on the internet…”
“I’m not a charity case and I don’t want you looking up stuff and trying to convince me to…” His voice rose, his face flushed red. “Just forget it, okay?”
“I’m sorry, Coop. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to help.”
“You can’t. No one can.” He closed his eyes and rested his head on the pillows. He ran his hands through his short cropped hair.
“Well, I’m here if you need me.”
“I don’t want your pity,” he snapped. He turned away from me, wincing as he settled his leg again.
The silence grew thick in the air between us and I realized just how much we’d both changed. We weren’t kids anymore, playing at being grown up, kissing behind the barn, afraid we’d get caught and be in real trouble. Life had turned us into strangers seemingly overnight, both of us losing the essential innocence we’d had as children, stolen by tragedies beyond our control. Maybe it was all we had in common now. A shiver ran through me, whether from the air conditioned room or the realization that my brother would never come home and maybe Alex—the Alex I knew—wouldn’t either.
I laid a hand on his shoulder, refusing to give up so easily. He didn’t pull away. Maybe that was a start. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But I’ll never turn my back on you, Coop. No matter what happens. We’re friends—more than friends. You and Lee were like brothers, and you and me…well…we’re like family. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
His body had grown more rigid with every word and I worried he was about to explode, but worse, he exhaled like a deflating balloon, his whole body draining of tension. “Go home, Jordie.”
I let my hand fall away. I thought about leaving, but I was there for answers, and I didn’t know when I would get the chance or courage to ask again.
“Coop, maybe this isn’t the best time, but I’d appreciate it if you could tell me what happened…to you and Lee.”
He rolled onto his back and glanced at me, his eyes having lost the sparkle and gone hollow. His face had turned a sallow shade of green, and I saw his Adam’s apple jump. I wondered if he might be sick, but instead he stared blankly at the ceiling. After a minute, he said, “I can’t talk about it.”
I leaned in closer, resting my hand on his arm, trying to get him to look at me—to see I only wanted the truth—I only wanted to help. “Why can’t you talk about it?”
His voice took on the tone of a soldier, the color and all of the hardness returning to his face in the span of seconds. “I’m under orders. Besides, there’s a lot I can’t remember.” When he lifted his eyes, they held raw emotion more powerful than any words. His gaze dropped again, “I don’t remember much past getting my orders that morning. The doctor said it might come back to me, but…” he stopped, his head popping up to confront me. “Wait… is that why you came here? To grill me about how Lee died? So you could hear me tell you it was my fault?” His face contorted with anguish. “Well, I’m sorry…okay…I’m…”
“No, Coop. I didn’t mean…”
“Just read the report,” he said, the anger draining from his voice, his face returning to its mask. He stared into space, lost and floating somewhere beyond the white walls of the room.
His expression pulled at something deep inside me. I thought that’s why I had come, but I needed more than information. The truth was I needed to be here for him, for me, for the brother whom we’d both lost. “I came to see how my friend was doing,” I answered. But I couldn’t stop the question that hung in the air. “I just can’t help wondering whether the military told us the truth about what happened.”
“Why would they lie?” He came back to the moment and met my eyes, his expression pained and serious.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
The room got very quiet, the two of us staring at each other for a tense moment. He looked away first, adjusting himself on the bed, clearly uncomfortable with both the line of questioning and being in his own skin. “I can’t help you, Jordie.” His voice was tired and icy.
“Maybe when you get home, you’ll feel more like talking.”
“I won’t.” He slumped back onto the pillows. “I’m kind of tired. Can you just go?”
It was clear he wasn’t going to help me—at least not now. Brig was right. Alex had been through so much. I shouldn’t be harassing him with stupid questions when he was all messed up like this. A huge wave of guilt washed over me. I felt like a traitor. I should be here helping him to cope with the loss of his leg and the death of his best friend. Instead I was stuck on some idiotic quest for a truth that might not even exist. But I knew deep inside there was more to the story than we’d been told, and the part of me that loved my brother more than anything, needed to know for sure. I stood and turned toward the door.
“I’m sorry, Coop. I’ll go, but you know I’ll be asking you again. I need to know what happened.”
He flinched and closed his eyes, his body going so still, I wondered if he was breathing. Then he opened his eyes and drew in a breath, staring me down with a steely resolve that reminded me so much of Levi, my heart clutched in my chest.
“I told you, I can’t help you. If that’s the reason you came here today, don’t bother coming back.” He turned his head to stare out the window, refusing to see the hurt his words had caused. His expression reminded me of sculpted steel, like one of those statues at the war memorials, all the pain hidden by pride. “And Jordie,” he turned back to me. “I’m not Coop anymore. I’m Alex Cooper, Corporal, U.S. Marines.” He glanced down at his leg. “At least I was until a couple of weeks ago.”
My eyes ached from the tears that threatened to spill over and my throat burned as I held them back. “And I guess I’m not Jordie anymore either, then. Everyone calls me Jordan now. I haven’t been Jordie since you and Lee left. I guess we’ve all grown up.” Meeting the eyes of the stranger who stared back at me, I knew how true it was. Our lives were changed and there was no going back.
He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again I saw a flicker of the boy I knew—the first boy I’d kissed.
As much as I wanted to look away, I kept my eyes steady on his. “No matter what you think has changed, you are who you’ve always been, Coop—a good friend to me and my brother.” I turned away and walked through the door, afraid to look back, my tears held in check only by my wounded pride. “See you around, Marine.”