5 Years After (Book 2.5): Smoke & Mirrors

by Correll, Richard

  Then what is it? Why are you constantly back at square one? It’s just the way things are, he knew that was a weak answer. Is it the time of the season, the time of your life? The questions started to sound like hurtful accusations. He wanted to stand up and fight back. Brett dried his hands on the wash cloth and stole one more look outside at the night.

  “I’ll be back, I’m just gonna go for a walk.”’ Brett slipped on his shoes and whispered to his mom, she responded with a nod of her head and eyes averted.

  Was the corner of his eye playing tricks on him? He thought his father reclining in his Laz-e-boy opened his mouth to speak before he closed the front door. The night air offered up a chance to retreat into another place. The street lights illuminated a pathway through the darkness, one light at a time. He could walk forever through Galveston this way. Perhaps he would be swallowed by time and emerge anew to start over. A group of kids were slowly walking home on the sidewalk across the street. Everyone their age seemed have the same shuffle, the similar gait in their stride. The head was down, sometimes covered in a hoodie or with headphones on their ears, listening to music or some form of escape from the life they had found themselves in. The shoulders were beaten down, like they were expecting to be struck by an invisible blow. How many times did life beat these kids up today? It was a strange question. But it was one he could relate to.

  As he passed under a street light, Brett examined the curvature of his shadow. The shoulders had almost become rounded in their defensive posture. His hands shoved hard in his pockets out of frustration and disappointment. The kids passed him by on the right. It was like mimicry.

  *

  The sleet became flurries that spread itself thin on the ground like salt. They used to call it corn snow for some reason that was long since forgotten. At times, figures approached out of the fog, Brett considered his ammunition shortage and wisely diverted his course or kept his distance. The flurries seemed to impede their sense of smell and vision. They did not seem to come closer and remained mere specters on the wind.

  Two days later he could feel his eyes become shallow on his face. It was a symptom of being beyond tired. Brett had only stopped to quickly crack a can of spam and eat the contents with his freezing fingers. The jelly like fat around the meat was consumed with equal relish, anything to stem the fire of hunger. The sky was clear now and he could see them coming from farther away, by the time he had finished the spam, they appeared among the trees and scattered houses, his scent was still fresh on the earth.

  There was no pause or hesitation in their direction. They could sense him before even coming close to his line of sight. To them, he was just there. They knew it. Brett took a few minutes and watched them cross some streets in an industrial park. It was strange to watch individuals come together and begin to pack closer and closer on their straight line walk in his direction. A few on the edges would slowly turn their heads, watching for movement or threat. Satisfied that this land was now prostrate before them, the eyes turned toward the wind and scent of their fresh prey. Brett was a half mile, a mile away from them and he could still make eye contact. The eyes made him frigid cold. So this is what the rabbit feels like in the hunt. He turned away and moved on.

  He managed to replenish his stock of ammunition through the deadly carelessness of others. Brett was aware his M16A3 had the same 5.56 bullet as most other automatic weapons. They were easy to find, scattered on blood stained streets by fools who had acquired courage from an AR-15 and then found themselves over whelmed. Their carcasses were stripped clean to the bone by the piranha hunger of the hostiles. The weapons and cartridges lay about the bodies and spattered pavement. The new masters had deemed them useless. Weapons, tools and anything of human origin was seen as old, outdated and past its usefulness. Sometime, there was a momentary curiosity in their puss colored eyes. Briefly, they would hold an object for a second longer and regard it with an almost dream like interest. The eyes would become far away in an almost déjà vu recollection. Then, something else would cross their mind and the thing that was once part of their lives would drop to the ground. The memory had faded. The past remained in the past.

  Desperate for sleep he devised a plan, Brett crossed and criss-crossed his path through a suburban neighborhood on a day the wind swirled about in several different directions. He finally came to a bungalow with a small bedroom upstairs. Brett piled furniture between the door and an adjacent wall with furious, desperate abandon. It was like the last few minutes of a fish before he was landed. He stepped back to check his handiwork.

  Brett labored slowly like he was underwater, checking and rechecking the pile. Is it firm? I just want to sleep, he heard himself plead. God damn it, he shook himself hard for a few more minutes of concentration. Can they get through? Is it firm?

  Yes, you’re safe, at least for tonight. He had been on the road for over a year.

  The dreams were like shattered glass on a sunny day, each shard reflecting a different spectrum of his life. He was walking through a world of dark and gray. A twisted thing with hardened tentacles that were once tree limbs was the only break in the landscape. Although he did not look down, Brett knew he could not see his feet for the enveloping fog. This is death. This is what it feels like…..

  His senses seemed clearer now. There were answers to deep philosophical questions that were at his fingertips all at once. He understood all things but seemed to care less about his new found awareness. Time was no longer linear. It was all at once and forever. He could feel the warmth of other souls hold him closely. It was a new sense of alive. He was a willing part of something much larger and more beautiful. He felt like a single star among a super cluster of others. Everything he had ever felt, done or lived seemed to be happening at once. But it was like music in the background, a part of the rhythm of this place but not overwhelming.

  Maggie………..

  He stretched out among the limitless. There were many others here that he knew, all that watched were aware of him and yet unobtrusive during his search. There was a moment of clarity in the landscape of this eternity. She’s not here………

  “She’s not here.” He heard his voice whisper as he was suddenly awake. The room was dark and quiet. It was a stillness that almost felt like it would be eons long. His ears listened for the slightest sound while he tried to understand the meaning of his dream/reverie/vision or whatever it was. This is death, she’s not here.

  His eyes fluttered again and the cold silence kept watch.

  *

  “Maggie,” he uttered the name in surprise.

  It had been six months since he had given up job searching and joined the army. Since then, the odd letter and even a Christmas card had arrived from Maggie. Brett had been walking down a hallway and had blundered into a group of officers. The one with now shoulder length red hair left him stunned.

  “Soldier!” A voice blistered his ear drum, his body became rigid and at attention. “You do not speak to your Lieutenant until spoken to!”

  “I got this,” Maggie’s voice was confident and demanded attention. The man with the loud voice stepped back respectfully when she approached Brett.

  “Private, this is the army now, am I clear?” Maggie didn’t have to raise her voice, respect had been earned. They let her handle it her way.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Brett’s eyes were in stare forward mode.

  “Good.” Her reply cut him off. “You speak to your senior officers when you’re spoken to, am I clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Brett automatically replied. Maggie let a few seconds pass as she stared at his face.

  “I don’t have time for the disciplinary paperwork.” She then turned to her fellow officers, “This didn’t happen, people.”

  “Yes, ma’am…..”

  “Didn’t happen, ma’am……”

  “Yes, ma’am…...”

  “Don’t let it happen again. You are dismissed, private,” Maggie returned her attention to Brett. He had not mov
ed an inch. “Mind what I said, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Brett replied. Maggie had done her best not to make an issue of their new situation. It all had to be taken with a grain of salt, he reasoned. She was gone down the hallway a second later and Brett was left with his new reality.

  A month later, Brett was sipping on a tall boy watching the cowboys lose on Monday night football when electric fingers touched his shoulder. It was like awakening adrenaline that felt fresh and invigorating running from his shoulder to his heart. He turned toward the sensation.

  “Hi.” Maggie smiled.

  “Oh,” Brett put the beer down and started to rise. “Good evening, ma’am.”

  “Relax,” Maggie held up a hand and pointed toward his bar stool. “Siddown, we’re off duty.”

  “I just…….” They both spoke at once.

  “I…..’ They tried again.

  “You first,” Brett finally stopped laughing.

  “I wanted to make sure you weren’t pissed about what happened a month ago.” Maggie spoke straight forwardly. Brett could not help but muse how beautiful Maggie was now that she was out of reach. Her eyes sparkled like bright emeralds and her mouth was something he could watch all night.

  “No, it’s all good.” Brett smiled and let the feelings flow away. The things he wanted to articulate were all gone now. They were like photographs that were best kept in the attic. If not, they could move you to tears. He washed his regret down with a slow pull on his tall boy.

  “Congratulations on making Corporal.” Maggie had her hand up, waving to the bartender. “I need to buy you a beer.”

  “Thanks, I’m just having a private party.” Brett smiled at her. For a second he wondered about the air conditioning, their eyes met and she shuddered.

  “Yeah,” She broke eye contact with a deep breath. Maggie looked at all the empty bar stools beside them. “Nice friends you have.”

  “Well. “His voice was almost apologetic. “I keep to myself these days.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Maggie’s voice trailed off for a second. Brett greeted the news of her situation with relief. It left him with an almost glimmer of hope he tried to keep under control. Maggie jerked a thumb at Brett’s bottle when the bartender arrived and held up two fingers. He nodded and she had the money on the bar. “I’m buying.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Maggie smiled at him and he couldn’t help but notice she inhaled slowly while watching him. This is gonna take some work from both of us, he thought.

  Maggie tore her eyes away from him and drifted her attention to the television on the wall. “Wow, is it just me or do the Cowboys suck?”

  “Now you’re getting on my nerves…” He grinned slyly and Maggie responded with a beautiful wide smile that made the rest of his week.

  *

  The world had changed but the seasons maintained their slow progression. The rain in spring produced water that was clear and drinkable. The air had freshness to it. Even the occasional freak snow storm produced pure white flakes. They glistened in the sunlight like it was laden with crushed pearls. Anytime he found old canteens, he stocked up. He found he could go a day without food as long as water was plenty. He soldiered through the mud, amazed his army boots still served him well.

  Brett was suddenly aware of the crows. They were far away at first. Then the warning came closer and closer, it was a primitive communication web that still served its purpose. Suddenly, the trees came alive around Brett. It was shocking to be aware of so much life that had been so close by. The sky blackened for a second and he looked up.

  The first thing he saw was the wings of a ragged V formation of Canada geese. Then, just underneath and passing them was an eagle, hawks of all kind and a cloud of sparrows and smaller birds. Brett had grown up on a farm in Saskatchewan before his family had moved to Texas. He could easily spot the nuances of nature. The birds of prey had a sky full of targets and they flew right past them, this was headlong flight, panic.

  A sapling snapped in two nearby and sent the crows scattering in a black cloud, bats in the trees abandoned their nests in the middle of the day and swooped through the upper branches. Brett turned toward the commotion and a massive body collided with him. Brett’s world was off kilter as he crashed into a bush and briefly saw stars in front of his eyes. He rebooted his senses. Brett was lying flat on his back looking up at a gigantic black bear. She was collecting one of her cubs in her arms and looking over her shoulder. The eyelids were wide open. The bear reared up and tried to walk quickly while cradling two smaller forms. A family of deer flashed past at top speed, they stumbled briefly on the uneven muddy ground and flung themselves up the trail. Three timber wolves with tongues hanging out of their mouths appeared on the ragged pathway and ran by Brett without a second glance. For a minute, Brett thought they were after the deer. But the warnings of the crows were gone now, he could hear the wolves……..whining.

  Brett checked his shoulder as he stood up slowly. It ached badly, it was a deep bruise but he doubted there was any damage. The first thing that caught his eye when he stood up was the forest had come alive. Small animals of every shape and size were like a raging tide in one direction, fire? He tried to smell for smoke or see any telltale sign in the skies. If it was a wildfire he had better find shelter. His rifle was back on his shoulder, a rise in the forest and a clearing in the distance might tell him what was going on. Thankful for no broken bones from the bear, he found the top of the rise and turned around.

  They were tightly packed and rubbing shoulders while they advanced through the knee high field of weeds and grass. It was a slow, ponderous wall of destruction. It took a minute to judge the depth and length of what was approaching. A few stopped and began furiously digging into the earth. Anything that had sought refuge in a lair appeared and was quickly enveloped by the tide. There was no hiding, no defense. The forest was being wiped clean of life. There were no territories, no safe havens and no chance for the left behind. As they progressed across the field more came up from behind. Thousands, Brett chanced a guess, perhaps hundreds of thousands. He turned and watched his step in the uneven pathway. Brett joined the panicked migration.

  *

  It was as natural as gravity. Maggie and he spun about each other in tighter and tighter circles, each action by one causing a reaction in the other, bodies at rest becoming bodies in motion. They would see each other while working out, Maggie and he taking turns on the punching bag. The weight room always allowed a few moments of conversation and casual side glances of appreciation at the shape they were in. Maggie was magnetic to be around, strong, confident and clearly enamored with him. She knew exactly what to say make him push harder, go farther and hold his head high. The failures of civilian life fell away like an animal shedding its skin.

  He stepped out into the day refreshed. Confidence was like a battery charge, the more you had the farther you could go. For the first time in years he felt limitless. He started playing the guitar again, caressing the strings with agile fingers. It felt like he was re-acquainting himself with an old friend. Every time a few cords came together, it felt like he had unearthed his own soul, long since lost amid the wreckage of time.

  Maggie would listen while struggling with the paperwork of her new position. She said it helped her concentrate, feel centered. It occurred to Brett while he was working through a favorite classic country song that feeling needed and useful was the most perfect thing in life. To feel important didn’t matter, to feel that you had a positive impact on someone close created a sense of belonging that was fuel to his soul. It helped create the good in you. It was the ground wire that kept the electricity of life flowing in your heart and the lights on in your eyes.

  Maggie was also fire. There was just something about the fierceness of her spirit, the independence in her walk that drew him closer. Brett was unsure of what Maggie found in him that kept her near, there was a look in her eyes when they were talking that was close to adm
iration. He dared not ask about it, it might go away. It was a slender thread that held him up high and gave him purpose. Even if its’ true meaning was a mystery.

  As two bodies whirled closer and closer collision was inevitable. It just happened like all the other times. Her gaze would linger for a few minutes after he made her laugh, Maggie would slowly bite her lip and Brett would feel that explosive rush that only Maggie could provide. Was it chemistry, animal magnetism or the spirituality of sexual climax? It was always the same……….

  Touch me there…….

  Kiss me there…….

  God, put your hands on me now……..

  Skin warming skin as the soul floats along the sweet river of afterglow. God, that was……words would fly away from any possible description. Just allow the moment to sit in your soul, sleep came easily and stayed the entire night. Her skin on his skin felt like a natural extension, a part of him that had somehow been lost had found its way home. There were lying on a double bed in a hotel room, she was asleep with her head on his chest, it was so perfect. They lay that way all night, hoping that the world would forget about them and move on. Maybe this could be the new forever.

  Forever doesn’t happen anymore.

  “I need you to be okay with this.” Maggie weeks later, sitting on the bed with her hands clasped tightly and resting on her lap in an almost desperate prayer. “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

  “I’m okay, really.” He lied.

  “This is just something I have to do and I…….” He could feel her tear in two. One side was career and other, the part of life that had so many wonderful complications. It was so easy to be straight and narrow, the larger picture would be tossed away for now. It would wait patiently in the attic of your soul for that one day when you had grown up enough to face yourself and come out and play,

  He took the long bus ride back to the base as he came to grips with his new reality. It felt like a part of him had just been wrenched away, never to be seen or felt again. Maggie had always said she envied Brett for his sense of direction, knowing what he wanted. But what happened when those goals fell short or were simply dashed by the crashing waves of other circumstances? It was Maggie now who had control, direction and life in hand.