I Know the Plans

by Melissa Wardwell

  Laughter burst from Emma’s mouth, startling Tiffany. “Girl, I can tell you why he is vigorously exercising.” Her laughter increased and Tiffany couldn’t help but join in. “You have him worked into a tizzy like there’s no tomorrow.”

  Embarrassed, foolish, blind - all were words to describe her current state of emotions. Oh, and sorrow for her husband.

  “I guess I wasn’t sure what to do next now that I think about it. I mean, he couldn’t remember anything about us until a week or so ago. It’s like we just met.”

  “Yes, but you have the passion of a couple who have been through a lot together and had a strong, intimate relationship for ten years. I don’t think there is a Statute of limitations on a marriage license or a vow you made before God. Not if there is no reason to terminate that vow.”

  Tiffany thought on it for a minute. It made sense; more sense than she had been making over the last couple of weeks.

  “I guess it is definitely something Brad and I need to talk about.”

  Emma began to laugh again, “I would recommend it.”

  While the pair shared in a laugh, they heard the sound of car doors slamming shut followed by the weed eater abruptly turning off.

  “Tiff!” Brad called out from the top of the limestone steps. “I need you.”

  Everything in him froze when he saw the men in uniform exit their vehicle. Their familiar look had him searching his mind for who they were and what their stations were.

  He needed his back-up person, his angel, to make sense of what could be happening.

  The three men approached, all three saluted him and he naturally replied the same way. Then the one who was highly decorated extended his hand out to Brad. “Good afternoon, Sergeant Jones. It is good to see you up and moving about again.”

  “I’m sorry, what was your name?”

  “Forgive me. I’m Sergeant Major Evans. I am sure you recall Sergeant Moore, and this is Chaplain Anderson.”

  “Yes, it is nice to see you again, Sergeant Moore,” brad replied as he shook each officer’s hand. “Welcome to our home, sirs.”

  Tiffany shook there hands as well while Emma quickly excused herself.

  “Would you gent amen mind coming in and we can chat.”

  Brad trailed behind the group as his heart began to race and palms began to sweat. Something about their visit registered great importance but he felt like he was about to be hit with a ball bat.

  Tiffany played the perfect host while he searched for his shirt.

  “While you gentlemen have a seat at the table in the dining room, I’ll get some iced tea.”

  “Ma’am, do you have some sugar,” Chaplain Anderson asked with a strong southern twang.

  Her melodious laugh calmed Brad’s racing heart. It made him stop and wonder how someone could make his blood race while bringing him a sense of peace. It was a curious thing that he was ready to get back to return after the five of them talked.

  “So, how are you doing, Jones? I heard it has been quite an ordeal getting back to normal?” the chaplain asked.

  There was something about the man that told Brad he could be trusted, besides the fact he was a chaplain. “Every day I grow stronger, but the memory recall has taken its sweet time. Thankfully, things are beginning to come back.”

  “Good. And civilian life hasn’t seemed to slow you down any,” Sergeant Moore stated.

  “No, but my wife does. She was mean at the beginning.”

  “I heard that, Bradley Jones!” Tiffany declared from the kitchen causing all four of the men to laugh.

  “I hoped you would,” Brad quipped.

  “I’m glad to see you have at least remembered married life. I know Tiffany is a good woman to have in your corner. You spoke of her often on our tours together,” Evans stated.

  Brad searched the man’s face, looking for something familiar to stand out. “We served together?”

  “Yes, sir. Many times, though I was not there the last tour.”

  “Okay, gentlemen, here are your teas.” Tiffany served each one and set out a plate of her shortbread that Brad had developed a craving for in recent weeks. As Tiffany came beside him and leaned over the table ever so slightly, he was quickly reminded that shortbread was not the only thing he was craving.

  Brad quickly cleared his throat, “So, what brings you to our little corner of the world?”

  The three officers looked to one another. “Well, we have news about the months you were missing and what led to your rescue. The army thought you would like to know.”

  They had his full attention but was he ready?

  CHAPTER 24

  “IT’S A MIRACLE really. Jones, you should not be here.”

  Tiffany took hold of his hand, squeezing it just enough to let him know she felt the impact of the statement. It wasn’t the first time he heard it, but to see the seriousness on the faces of the officers in front of him hit the point home.

  “That makes me happy to see,” Sergeant Moore stated while he glanced to their hands. “I was hoping you two would work through this.”

  “It is recent, but it does feel good to have him back to normal,” she looked at Brad with a smile that spanned from one ear to the other. “Well, as normal as he could get, considering.”

  “So, is your memory completely restored then?” Sergeant Major Evans asked.

  “Well, parts of it. The basic, daily things, like dressing, making a simple meal, walking - those didn’t really change. Memories of my life at home only began to return a few weeks ago. Just a week back,” he looked to Tiffany again, “I remembered our wedding day.” Brad offered his attention back to the officers, “Some friends of ours were married and it triggered a flood of memories really.”

  “Any of them related to your time in service?” Sergeant Moore asked.

  “That’s the funny thing. I cannot recall a single detail of my time in the service. I do have dreams though. No details. Just blackness or sand followed by screams and gunfire. Let me tell ya, the little punk next door almost got a fist in the face the first of July. Lucky for him Tiffany was here to talk me down.”

  “Fireworks,” Chaplain Anderson stated, more than asked.

  “Yup. M-80s I think. That whole experience was a little different. The doctor said it was normal for some combat veterans. Like I said, I have had no actual memories of my time in the army. The doctor seems to think my lack of memory is related to specific emotions.”

  “Have you figured out which emotion holds it back?” Sergeant Moore inquired.

  “Not yet. Honestly, I am trying not to think about it. When memories do come I stop to think about what emotion I am feeling. Tiffany seems to think it is fear or uncertainty.”

  “Knowing that, do you even want to know the information we have?” asked Sergeant Major Evans.

  Brad thought about it for a moment. He knew he had been avoiding the topic from the start. If his dreams were any indication of the actual event, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. At the same time, a part of him always wondered.

  The gentle squeeze of his hand shifted his focus to Tiffany. “Maybe it is time to get this over with. It might be what you need to unlock the rest of the past.”

  “Maybe I am happy in the ignorance of this piece of the puzzle.”

  “No, honey, I don't think you are.”

  Brad released her hand, bent over his lap, resting his elbows on his knees, all the while avoiding her stare. Her acute awareness to his mannerisms got on his nerves from time to time. This was one of those times. He knew how right she was, but he wasn't sure he wanted to admit it.

  “Okay, give me the basic details and if I want more information I will ask.” He looked back at her, “Is that good enough for you?”

  Tiffany nodded yes and Brad gave the officers his attention. “Let's have it.”

  Sergeant Major Evans shifted his seated position to mirror Brad’s. The other two officers sat back in a more relaxed way. “Some of these details can be difficult
to handle, even if I simplify things. Stop me if you need to take a break.

  “I think the only detail that you were given, according to your medical report, was that we had received the phone call with specific instructions on where to find you.”

  “Yes, it was alongside a road in Afghanistan.”

  “Correct. I am going to safely assume that you do not remember any other details so I will start from the beginning.

  “The tip as to your location was made from a payphone in that area. There was a little marketplace far from the base camp where you were stationed. The caller did not leave a name and judging from a voice in the background, they were calling in for someone else. When we sent a team to pick you up, we also sent a team in to investigate. This eventually led to the arrest of several militants in the area. A few were on the top of the Most Wanted list.

  “One of the detainees, in particular, made it his mission to speak with a superior officer about you. He asked repeatedly if you were found and refused to give any information until he had his answers. If he was as indignant as the others, we might have ignored him. Instead, he had a calm disposition about him.

  “He claimed to be the reason you were returned home. When we asked how the base was attacked and you were captured, he gave precise details that matched those of our own that were there when the strike occurred. His recall of your heroism and determination, as well as,” Even’s stopped, taking a moment to gage Tiffany’s pending response. Brad had a feeling she was not going to like it. “Well, your torture. He gave details as to what was done to you and much of it was backed up by doctors who first treated you. Your wounds were rather extensive, I am told.”

  Brad heard sniffles from the beauty beside him. He reached for her hand to offer comfort, thankful he could not remember those details.

  “The individual then recounted how your unwavering faith changed his heart. He described how through each terrible deed done to you, you quoted Scripture, prayed, and when it was over, you said, ‘I forgive you’. He shared that this quiet faith, as he put it, was what softened his heart and eventually led to his conversion.”

  Tiffany sat in stunned silence and Brad couldn’t help but shed a tear or two. In the quiet of the room, he searched for any recollection of the event. A face, a prayer, a verse - something to give an inclination.

  “It was after this change of faith that he took extra precaution to protect you from the leaders of this sect. When your health began to take a serious turn for the worse, he began to make plans to sneak you out of the camp. ‘Even if I die, he must live,’ he stated.

  “One night, an opportunity presented itself. Getting you out of the camp proved difficult though, as you were now too weak to walk out. He said he carried you like a drunk friend needing air. From there, he got you to the local village on the back of a donkey where he found someone to make the call, look after you, and get back to camp.

  “When the leaders discovered you were gone, they went looking for you. This ultimately led us to them.”

  The story was so tragic and unbelievable that he wasn’t sure what to say. He could only agree with Tiffany’s whispered awe.

  “No wonder you don’t want to remember, Brad,” emotion began to overtake her and he leaned back to take her in his arms. “You really were almost taken from me.”

  Her cries were broken by muffled words, all over the realization of how close to falling apart everything they had built together was. Brad’s own heart ached over his wife’s tears. When she still cried over the news nearly five minutes later, he wondered if she was going to be okay. The officers looked as concerned as he felt.

  “Hey,” Brad rubbed her arm doing what he could to get her to settle. “You’re worrying our guests, and me.” He kept his voice as light as possible but his concern for her was too great.

  After a couple of deep breaths, she picked her head up and looked him dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry gentlemen. I’m not sure what happened. It was like the dam broke and then it wouldn’t subside.” She looked to Brad, slapped him on the arm in her playful way, “How can you not be emotional about this?”

  He was beginning to wonder the same thing. “I’m not sure. I guess because I don’t recall it, I don’t feel the severity.”

  “What has triggered your memories thus far?” Sergeant Moore asked.

  “Mostly images or an action that was part of my routine.”

  “Do you want to remember anything around this?” Tiffany chimed in.

  He still wasn’t sure. There was something knocking at the backdoor of his memory bank and opening it made him uneasy.

  “Here,” Sergeant Major Evens flashed a manila envelope. “Inside is his written confession, his mugshot, as well as images of the bunker where you were held- at least part of it, pictures they took of you, and your captors’ mugshots. Look at them when you are ready, but do so with your doctor and loved ones around you. This is something you do not want to face alone. I have a feeling seeing this could be hard on you.” He then looked at Tiffany and implored her, “I know I am only dangling the proverbial carrot in front of you, but ma’am, do not look at these images of your husband. Trust me.“

  “I promise, sir. I don’t even want to,” she replied through her sniffles.

  “Here is one photo I think you will want,” Sergeant Major Evans stated as he reached into the envelope.

  He removed a small, tattered paper, looked at it with a beaming smile then handed it to Brad.

  “I believe this is yours, Jones.”

  Brad looked at the dazzling blue eyes, curly brown locks, and the stunning, impish smile that he knew so well.

  “What is it?” Tiffany leaned into his shoulder to get a better look.

  “A picture of my beautiful bride,” he told her as he tilted it some so she could get a better look.

  As tears began to spring forth again, flashes of moments came to the forefront of his mind. One moment stood out clearly.

  “I think I was looking at this when the attack happened. I ... I remember a young soldier looking at it over my shoulder and remarking on your beauty. Well, he used unflowery words, but I got what he was saying.

  “I kept it in my left, breast pocket. The day was tough and hot so I found a shaded space on the base and took a minute. That’s when warning bells went off in here,” Brad pointed to his chest as he closed his eyes to better focus on the images. “I went to the entrance and looked for hints of insurgents but it wasn’t until I went back to my spot in the shade did I hear the whistle.”

  Brad's eyes shot open and the memories stopped. He didn’t need to remember what happened next. It haunted him every night while he wandered in the blackness of his dreams.

  “The young man you referred to did pass. They found him lying in that shaded area you spoke about. Our detainee stated that they rolled him off of you when they discovered you were still alive. He saved your life.

  “You know, losing any soldier is difficult. Losing ones so young just stabs at you for a while,” Sergeant Moore stated while gazing with a blank stare at the table.

  The five of them sat in quiet remembrance of the young man’s sacrifice as well as so many others.

  The clock on the wall chimed the time and Sergeant Major Evans placed the envelope on the table without another word on the matter and declared it was time to leave.

  He held his hand out and Brad took it, “Thank you, Sergeant Jones for your service. You truly endured more than any of us could ever imagine. You are not just a soldier, you are a hero to the American people.”

  He released Brad’s hand and all three saluted him. Without a thought to the action, Brad saluted in reply. “Thank you, sirs.”

  He showed them to the door while Tiffany busied herself taking care of the glasses. As he watched them enter the unmarked SUV, a hint of pain pricked his chest. For the hour they sat in his living room, there was a feeling of brotherhood that passed between them. It was familiar to him in a way that was like a second nature. He
may not recall the details of his service, but the camaraderie and respect was familiar. He could never explain in words what it was like to belong to a group whose sole mission was to protect and serve together as a team.

  CHAPTER 25

  WHILE TIFFANY WASHED dishes, the events and conversations of the day played in her mind. She analyzed each detail, prayed about every decision, and even cried a little more. She still wasn’t sure what to make of it. The tears just wouldn’t stop. She could have lost Brad and never would have known it if not for that man.

  There was a slight tremor in her hands as she worked the rag over each dish. If she didn’t take it slow, she would break one of the last pieces from the glass set that was given to them for their wedding.

  All the what if questions that plagued her over the last week or more felt mute in comparison to the bigger picture of their lives. Memories or not, God knew what he was doing, even if she didn’t.

  I’m sorry, Father, for not trusting your plan.

  An all too familiar set of hands came around her waist, pulling her back against the firm chest of the most precious gift God had ever given her; her husband.

  His breath on her neck made her joints weak causing her to almost drop the glass. She set the glass in the water and leaned more into her husband’s embrace. In his arms was the best place on earth to be and never again would she have to live without having him near.

  “How about you put the washrag down,” his gentle lips kissed the base of her neck, sending shivers down her spine and throughout her body, “and come sit with me on the couch.” Not what she thought he would suggest after the week they had, but she wouldn’t turn him away.

  Dropping the rag, she turned into his arms. Brad took her hands, and raised them to his lips. “I would say we have been handed a second chance.”

  With a firm grip on her hands, Brad backed out of the kitchen, never once breaking his gaze from her face. The way his eyes moved over her face made her grow warm.