by Becky Durfee
“Private First Class Darren Day, United States Army.”
“Corporal Eddie Vincent, United States Marine Corps. Oorah!”
This time, both Everett and Mick replied, “Oorah!”
Since he was the last one to introduce himself, Eddie, the blind man, added, “It is our honor to meet you, sir!”
Jenny kept her tear-filled eyes on Mick, making sure he was okay. He held his salute, but he looked like he wanted to crumble into a ball and make it all go away.
The five Veterans lowered their salutes, and Mick followed suit.
Mercifully, Dr. Lambert took the reins. “Mick, these fine young men have obviously sustained combat injuries, just like you. The difference is that they are getting help through the Wounded Warrior Project.”
Sensing where this was going, Jenny sent a text down to John. Please come up here. You need to hear this.
“They obviously have injuries you can see,” Dr. Lambert continued, “but they also have wounds that you can’t. Don’t let the fact that you escaped visible scars lead you to believe you have come back from the war unharmed. Any of these guys will tell you that the emotional burden is just as bad as the physical one.”
“It’s worse,” Everett said. “The injury, I can get used to. It’s the nightmares that nearly drove me to suicide.”
Jenny wiped her eyes, which could no longer contain her tears.
“You can’t be expected to go it alone,” Dr. Lambert said. “Nobody can. That’s what the Wounded Warrior Project is for. It helps you redefine what is your ‘new normal’ so you can become a well-adjusted member of society again. We’re not claiming that we can cure you of your nightmares. We’re not suggesting that you will ever go back to the person you once were. What we can do, though, is teach you coping strategies to help you deal with your situation and make it so you can live a fulfilling life in spite of what’s happened to you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without the Wounded Warrior Project,” Darren said from his wheelchair. “My disability was one thing, but the depression about the disability was another. They helped me realize that my life wasn’t over just because I’m in a wheelchair. It’s just different now. I’ve got a good job, and I’ve been successful at work. I have to admit, one of the things that upset me the most was that I wouldn’t be able to play sports anymore, but they’ve gotten me in touch with a bunch of other guys who also came back in wheelchairs, and we’ve got a basketball league going. This winter we’re even going to arrange a ski trip. It’s been a lifesaver…literally.”
“Project Odyssey is a good place to start,” Eddie said, resting his hands on his cane. “It’s like camp, essentially,” he added with a laugh. “We’re given physical challenges that, at first, it seems like we wouldn’t be able to do. Like, how am I supposed to climb a rock wall when I can’t see? But the others there won’t let you give up. They support you and push you, and the next thing you know, you’re at the top of the rock wall, and everybody’s cheering for you. It’s an amazing feeling. By the time you leave there, you feel like you can do anything.”
Jenny heard a gentle knock on the door, so she discreetly opened it for John. He silently walked in, not disrupting any of the events that were unfolding.
“I agree,” Dr. Lambert said. “It’s the best place to start. Then, once you leave there, they help you establish goals and make sure you accomplish them. They can give you job training if you need it, and they can provide you with a case manager that will follow you as much or as little as you need.”
“Actually,” Jenny began, “I believe this is my cue.” She took a step forward, guiding John by the elbow to come forward. “Mick, this is John, the guy I told you about who arranged this whole thing.”
Mick walked toward John and shook his hand, “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Glad to help.”
Jenny cleared her throat. “Mick and John, it seems to me that both of you could actually use a project to work on…something to keep you busy and something meaningful that will give you a reason to get out of bed in the morning.” She drew a nervous breath. “I’ve taken the liberty of putting a few things into motion. First, I have rented a two-bedroom townhouse that you two could share. I figure you guys can keep an eye on each other. John, you can make sure that Mick is doing his best to put one foot in front of the other each day, and Mick, you can make sure John stays clean.”
Both men looked astonished.
“Make no mistake about it, though,” Jenny continued. “This is no free ride. That’s part of your salary. I also have been working with the folks at the Wounded Warrior Project the past few days, arranging for you two to be employees, of sorts. They’re not officially hiring you to work for them, but I am. I will provide you with the townhouse, a salary and some insurance, and in return you two will help out some of these guys who are returning home and need modifications to their houses. The first guys I want you to help are Darren and Eddie.”
With a glance over in their direction, Jenny noticed the two Veterans now shared in the look of bewilderment.
“Darren’s house needs to become wheelchair friendly. He’ll need handicapped ramps, a chairlift and a few other things to make getting around easier. Eddie will need some items in his house to become vocal, like a talking thermostat, remote control, wall clock…that kind of thing. Mick and John, I’d like the two of you to be project managers, overseeing renovations for Darren and Eddie and others who come home needing modifications. The people at the Wounded Warrior Project told me they would give you the names of Veterans in need, and I will supply the budget for the overhauls. Now,” she added, pointing her finger in their direction, “just because it’s my money and not yours doesn’t mean you can go spending frivolously. I want you to shop around, finding the contractors who can do the best job for the least amount of money. No half-assed project management, got it?”
John appeared to take to the idea immediately, a flattered smile splayed across his face. He gave one emphatic nod, announcing, “Yes, ma’am.”
Fully realizing that Mick had not agreed to the arrangement, she focused on John to relieve some of the pressure that Mick must have been feeling. “And you,” she added, walking closer to John. “You will be subjected to random drug tests. Whenever the guy comes knocking, you will pee in a cup, and—so help me—if that thing comes back positive, you will be back in rehab faster than you can bat an eye. Am I making myself clear?” Jenny surprised herself with just how forceful she was being, but she was so tired that she didn’t have the energy to be polite.
Fortunately, John seemed to be amused by her take-charge attitude. “Crystal,” he replied with his smile still fully intact.
“Well, then,” she said, “I’ve got the keys to the townhouse in my diaper bag, but that’s downstairs. Remind me to give those to you when we head out of here.”
Maria stood up and took a few steps toward an expressionless Mick, placing her hand gently on his arm. “So what do you say?” she asked him. “Are you willing to do Project Odyssey?”
“You won’t regret it, man,” one of the Veterans said, although Jenny didn’t know which one. She was too busy focusing on Mick’s reaction, desperately afraid that he would continue to say no.
Maria smiled lovingly at him. “Elyon would want you to…candy ass.”
With that last remark, he hung his head and smiled. “Yeah, I guess I’ll give it a shot.”
Relief washed over Jenny as the room took on a definite air of triumph. The five Veterans finally relaxed, heading casually over to Mick to introduce themselves more personally. Jenny thought that this would be good for Mick; he could get to know them as people and see more than just the scars the war had placed on them. Perhaps, through their example, Mick would realize that he could actually overcome the setbacks he’d endured since his time in Iraq.
One thing Jenny did notice, however, was that she hadn’t seen Lucy in a long time. While she knew the dog couldn’t have escaped, she still got nervous as she
looked the room around and didn’t see her. Eventually, her eyes landed on the black tip of Lucy’s nose, which barely stuck out from under the chair.
She let out a little laugh based on both relief and cuteness overload. There was one of the most dangerous dogs in the world, according to some, hiding under some furniture because she was afraid of the people in the room. While the scene melted her heart, Jenny did acknowledge that Mick had his work cut out for him if he wanted to get this dog socialized.
In a sudden moment of realization, Jenny remembered she had left her baby downstairs with Mick’s mother, and there was a good chance he was getting hungry at this point. Quickly explaining her situation to Dr. Lambert, she headed out the door to go to the lobby.
While she walked, she checked her phone, noting she had a voicemail. Placing the phone to her hear, she listened while she headed down the hall.
Jenny, this is Charles Littleton. I spoke to Jason, my other step-son, and he said he’d be willing to submit to a DNA test. He’s scheduled to give a swab later today. His mother still doesn’t know about this, and I’d like to keep it that way. Anyway, I just wanted to keep you informed. Thanks. Bye.
She drew in a deep breath. While this intervention seemed to go smoothly, she was well aware that she still had work to do.
Among other things, she had a body to find.
Chapter 19
“I’m exhausted.”
Jenny plopped down in the recliner at home, having fed the baby at the hotel and having gotten John and Lucy situated in their new townhouse. Mick had stayed at the hotel, where he was catching up with his family and new friends. Jenny had agreed that Mick could stay there until he had his turn at Project Odyssey, and then he would join John and Lucy at the townhouse.
“You should be tired,” Zack noted from the couch. “It was a busy day.”
She turned to him. “I think it was successful, no?”
“Sure looks that way.”
She let out a giant yawn. “I think I need a nap. If the baby wakes up while I’m sleeping, do you mind getting him?”
Zack didn’t say anything; his silence spoke volumes.
“Should I take that as a yes or a no?”
He simply shrugged; pouting was implied.
Oh, dear. She didn’t really want to ask him what was wrong; controversy was the last thing she wanted to deal with at the moment. She did, however, want to be able to take a nap and know that Zack would get the baby if he cried, and the only way to do that was to figure out what was bothering him.
Reluctantly, she posed, “What’s the matter?”
He took a while to respond. “It just seems like you’re expecting me to do the things you want from me, but you haven’t made any attempt to do the things I want from you.”
She didn’t understand at first, but then it clicked. She rubbed her eyes. “Is this about sex?”
“I thought we’d reached an agreement,” he replied. “You told me you wanted me to help with the baby more, and I said I wanted to start having sex again. I’ve been upholding my end of that bargain.”
Jenny thought back to the two times that she could recall Zack helping with Steve, wondering if he genuinely felt like she now owed him something. She was starting to get angry, which ticked her off even more. She didn’t want to be angry. She just wanted to sleep.
Trying to remain civil, she said, “I can’t have sex yet.”
“It doesn’t have to be sex. You could do other things.”
No thought in the world seemed less appealing. “Okay, though, here’s the deal. I’m too tired to do anything sexual. The reason I’m so tired is because I’m doing the vast majority of the work with the baby.”
“I’ve helped.”
“Twice,” Jenny remarked. “You’ve helped twice. Considering there’s been about two million things this baby has needed, the fact that you’ve helped twice doesn’t exactly mean you’ve been doing your share.”
“It’s more than you’ve done for me.”
“Oh, dear God. I’m going to bed,” Jenny said while standing up. “I’ll just get the baby when he cries.”
Zack said nothing as she left the room.
As she headed back toward the bedroom, she marveled at the prospect that Zack believed that she was the one not upholding her end of the bargain. It was like he felt like he deserved some kind of trophy because he had taken care of the child twice.
She was getting irritated again.
Consciously pushing that idea out of her head, she acknowledged her anger would inevitably get in the way of sleep, which was her primary goal at the moment. She lay down in her bed, thoroughly exhausted, and drifted off within minutes.
Jenny sat inside the truck, trying to keep warm. She watched an older woman stagger around under the lights of Hammond Park’s parking lot, hardly dressed for the weather.
See that? It’s another one. There’s clearly something wrong with it. It’s weak, and it needs your energy to stay alive.
Jenny considered driving away, but she was there for a reason. She didn’t want to have to go without her week’s supply of weed. Instead, she reached over and locked the door, hoping this—being, whatever it was—would leave her alone.
It wants to steal your soul. It’s going to suck the life right out of you, if you let it.
Jenny wished she was invisible. She sunk down further in the seat, trying to blend in with the car. It was futile, though. The being saw her and started walking in her direction.
You asshole. You called it over here. Now it’s going to kill you. Nice going, you stupid piece of shit.
The being knocked on the driver’s side window of the truck. “Hey,” it said. Its half-closed eyes and slurred speech proved that its soul had been sucked out. “Let me in.”
With wide eyes, Jenny found herself unable to speak. She willed the being away with all of her might.
The pounding on the window continued. “Open up! It’s cold.”
It’s not going away. You’re going to have to kill it…before it kills you.
“I’ll treat you right,” the being said. “Twenty dollars.” It leaned against the truck window.
Jenny remained motionless, glancing at it with just her eyes. It seemed small—small enough to handle. It also seemed impaired, unlike some of the others in the past. She could take it easily.
She said nothing, but she reached down and pressed the unlock button. Hearing the click, the being seemed to snap to attention, walking around the truck to the other side. It climbed in and closed the door, immediately letting its head flop back against the seat. It appeared to already be half-dead.
That’s because it has no soul.
A faint crying sound permeated the truck, which Jenny soon realized was her own son in his crib. She raised her head off the pillow, confused, trying to discern reality from vision. As she mechanically got up out of bed, she processed that she had been sitting in the parking lot of Hammond Park in this contact. Heather Bowes must have been frequenting that area before she died.
And her body must have been somewhere close by.
As Jenny picked up the baby and brought him out to the living room, she snagged the laptop so she could do some research while she fed him. After getting Steve situated, she began a search on the computer, only to find a headline glaring at her.
Blood evidence found in truck may be linked to murder of Longfellow student.
“Oh, Jesus,” Jenny whispered as she picked up her phone. Her brain wasn’t even fully awake yet, but there she was dealing with this issue.
The man on the other end picked up after two rings.
“Hi Charles, it’s Jenny Larrabee.”
“Hey, Jenny.” He sounded solemn. “I think I know why you’re calling.”
“Sadly, I bet you do. How did the press even find out about this?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, “but this isn’t how I wanted my wife to find out.”
Jenny closed her eyes. “She saw it?”
“She did.” Charles let out a sigh, followed by a long pause. “She’s upset by it, but I think it’s because she’s had a chance to process the whole thing, and she’s coming to the realization that Aiden may have done these things after all. She’s also upset that I didn’t tell her that I was cooperating with the police, but that’s another story.”
“I’m sure the way she found out about it didn’t help.”
“It certainly didn’t,” he replied. “I had planned on sitting her down and telling her what was going on once I had some facts. The press beat me to the punch, I guess.”
Jenny shook her head. “Poor thing. How’s she handling it?”
“She’s tearful. It’s a lot to come to terms with, you know?”
“I can only imagine,” Jenny replied emphatically. “Do you think she’d be willing to talk to me? I have the feeling she might take comfort in hearing what I have to say…actually, what Aiden’s had to say.”
“It can’t hurt. Would you be able to come out here to talk? I don’t think she feels much like traveling.”
“Of course,” Jenny said reassuringly. “My baby is eating right now, but I can head over after that if it’s okay.”
“That sounds good,” Charles replied. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Belinda Littleton’s appearance left little question as to what she was feeling. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face pale. Jenny shook her hand as she entered the Littleton’s home, taking a seat awkwardly on the couch. Grateful to have Steve as a distraction, she picked him up out of his car seat and focused her attention on him for the moment.
Charles spoke first. “Thanks for coming out here today.”
Jenny smiled in return. “It’s the least I can do.”
Belinda sat on a chair as she dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “Charles tells me you have psychic powers and Aiden has been talking to you.”
Psychic powers. Jenny had never considered it to be a power before. “Yes, ma’am,” she said nonetheless.
With a tone that fell somewhere between bitter and factual, Belinda replied, “I had a difficult time believing that at first.”