Light the Hidden Things

by Don McQuinn

"Well, sure, people have helped me from time to time. Nothing like this."

  "You've never let anyone get close enough. And you've never been in trouble with the law or anything. Have you?"

  Crow watched quick worry tighten her features. He hurried to reassure her. "There was the thing with Major when he was a puppy." He paused, shot her a nervous glance. "I wasn't always a happy drunk when I was chasing the stuff."

  She said, "Well, I'll bet you've met plenty of people who'd do exactly what the Pastor and I are doing. Look what Hector Garza did."

  He had to clear his throat. "Great guy. Did he tell you he was a corpsman? They do crazy brave things. Tell them that and they just say it's their job."

  "You're a lucky man." He looked surprised, and she went on, "You've known lots of great guys. Didn't you say you came to Lupine because some friend from back then liked the place?"

  "Yeah, Smitty. City kid. From Newark, of all places, and the best fisherman I ever saw. You'd have liked him."

  Once more he felt his mind disconnect.

  Semper Fi, old buddy. Ride easy.

  Lila. Paint-splotched clothes. Beat-up shoes. Do-rag losing the fight to restrain her hair. Cheekbones. Eyes. Graceful.

  He rose abruptly.

  Dizziness slammed him. He stumbled sideways, fighting for balance. Falling, falling, he crashed against a tree. Clawing hands barely kept him upright. Wrenching nausea threatened to embarrass him.

  Lila was with him instantly. "Sit down." She barked it, simultaneously helping him slump to the ground, back against the trunk. She fumbled for her cell. "I'll call 911."

  "No." He heard himself, metal on metal, "Stood up too fast. Dizzy. Give me a minute." He reached for her phone. She caught his hand and held it

  He looked into her eyes and hoped she saw into his, into him. Still a wanderer, still alone. Not seeking solitude now. Aching for union.

  Don't let me go.

  Soft hands, as before. Strong now.

  Hold me.

  She said, "I'm calling for help." She flipped open the cell with her free hand, winced at the power of his grasp.

  He scrabbled for a grip on the tree. The effort to rise pitched him forward on all fours.

  She gave a small cry and knelt beside him. Her hand on his forehead steadied him. She told him, "It's the concussion. I'm calling."

  He made himself kneel. His entire being screamed for him to lie down. He got to his feet. He wished he could smile at her. He knew if he tried it he'd puke. He said, "I'm okay. I better be still for a minute, though." It took two mincing steps for him to get back to the boulder. Vision wobbled as badly as his knees. He collapsed against the rock and repeated, "I'm okay," adding, "No call. I'll send them away." He lowered his head, staving off the nausea. The price for that was a bomb of a headache.

  Pain is a frame of mind. Control it or it controls you.

  Thank you, God, for all the grand opportunities You've dumped on me to learn that.

  Does it please You to turn a stray moment of pleasure into more pain?

  Lila watched color flow into his face. His breathing steadied. He raised his head, features gaunt. She saw his pain and her heart told her it came from a deeper injury yet. Without even thinking she said, "Tell me about the PTSD."

  His expression almost shattered her resolve. Even as that happened, though, she was realizing she'd spent hours preparing for those words, that look. Now that they were spoken, she was afraid. How he reacted would mean a new beginning or a final ending.

  He said, "Never mention that."

  He didn't tell her to go away. Relief brought hope. And confusion.

  His voice trembled. Anger? Fear? What's he telling me?

  Thank you, God; he didn't tell me to go away. We're still talking.

  The small prayer surprised her. She wasn't accustomed to that. The mental echo of it wouldn't go away.

  She hurried her response. "Garza said you have nightmares. I looked on the internet. It's not unusual. You can get help. It's nothing to be ashamed about."

  "Ashamed?" Anger widened his eyes, drew a taut, white line around his lips. It only made him look worse. His hand jerked toward the bandage. He stopped it halfway, used it to point accusation at her instead. "You think I'm ashamed? Of what? Having nightmares? Or should I be ashamed of being one of them? I'm proud of every minute of my service, everything I did." He acted as if he had more to say, but looked away. He was more contained when he continued, even though the words almost slurred. "I apologize. I know that's not where you were going. I over-reacted." A deep breath. "If I thought I couldn't handle things on my own I'd get help in a minute. I'll beat it myself. I'm stronger than it is."

  He was the image of fiery determination. Nevertheless, Lila sensed grinding sadness. Her next thought was terrifying.

  Something else is hurting him. It's not just the PTSD or the concussion. Whatever it is, it's what's beating him down. And he's not stronger than that.

  Lila knelt beside him. Tentatively, she raised a hand to his cheek. He was no more responsive than the rock at his back. She said, "I'd never believe you did anything shameful. We're not going to argue about the PTSD, either. The concussion's something we can agree on. Come back with us, please. I'm asking, Crow - let us help."

  He said, "You all are the kindest people I've ever met. Garza talks too much. He worries like an old woman."

  "On the internet it said..."

  "I don't care. Combat does things to people. Simple as that, okay? Most just get over it. Some have to wrestle with it. We all know there's help if we need it. The way I see it, though, is that in the end everyone has to kill his own dragon. "

  Lila said, "Not accepting help's the same as if help was never there. It's worse than that; it's rejecting the people who offer it. Rejection hurts, Crow."

  Watching him get to his feet was unpleasant. When he was gathering himself to walk she got to her feet, poised to assist whether he liked it or not.

  His voice was different. "If you mean to get back to Lupine at any reasonable hour you'll have to get moving."

  Lila intuited the sudden distance in his manner wasn't entirely caused by her unlatching the forbidden door to PTSD. It had something to do with the other, even darker thing.

  Rejection? Was that the thing burning him from the inside?

  Bitter disappointment washed over her.

  I was so sure we were finally reconnecting. Like what I felt on the bench, watching the river. You listened to more than my words. You heard my heart.

  Why did you turn away? Why do you always turn away?

  They were crossing a meadow by then. The ground was broken, rough. He picked his way uncertainly. Even so, he put a helping hand to her elbow.

  She stepped ahead, resentful of his touch. Her thoughts whirled.

  He'll see that as rejection. That word again. That's not what you want.

  What do you want?

  Striding fast, she felt exactly as she had when they turned onto the road to this place. The tears were there again, demanding. She railed at them, at herself. The attempt to help him was a failure, but it wasn't her fault. Then why this devastating ache inside her?

  How can I be feeling loss for something I never had?

  Pastor Richard's greeting startled her. She stumbled. Behind her, Crow reached to clutch the same elbow as before. She smiled thanks. He smiled back. His hand fell away. She wanted to turn away from the two men waiting for them, walk with Crow, talk about something. Anything. Be with him.

  Where'd all the sexual tension go? Why did his touch feel simply right, like that was what he was supposed to do? Like that's why he was beside me in the first place?

  What's happening to me?

  Does he have any idea?

  The Pastor and Jason leaned against the Pastor's car. The Pastor said, "Sophia's meeting Amber's school bus. Did you two decide anything?"

  Lila said, "Not really."

  Crow said, "I did. I'll be on my way to the Pacific coast tomorrow mo
rning."

  Turning to Jason, the Pastor said, "Can I ask you and Lila to give me a few minutes with our friend?" With a sidelong wink for Crow, he added, "A last try."

  Jason said, "Ms. Milam, would you like to walk with me to meet Amber's bus? We can hook up Major, take him along. That okay, Crow?"

  "If he knows he's going to meet Amber he'll pull your arms out of the sockets. Don't let him pop any stitches."

  Lila told Jason, "I'd enjoy that. And call me Lila," then, to the Pastor, "It's up to you. I tried to talk some sense into him." She darted a glance at Crow before finishing. "I struck out."

  Crow sent her a conspiratorial wink, hidden from the other men. She winced inwardly, suddenly self-implicated in his denials. Guilt hurried her away.

  The Pastor resumed quietly. "I talked to Hector Garza for quite a while before he left."

  "Talk is what Garza does best. What I do best is take care of myself."

  "What if you're not up to the job? You could get worse. Who takes care of you then? Have you even thought about how Lila will feel if something happens to you?"

  "Of course." A slashing gesture dismissed the questions. "I know it'd bother her. And you, too, padre. It took a special person to do what you did. Your friends back in Lupine are special, too. So let me ask you a question: If I do get worse - which I won't - wouldn't it be a whole lot tougher on you all if you had to watch it happen? I risked the lives of my young troopers so we'd avoid hurting innocent people. There's a fancy word for that - collateral damage. That's what you all are; collateral damage."

  "We are not. We're in the fight, the same as you. If we get hurt it'll be because we care. It's a risk we accept. "

  The shadow that crossed Crow's features came and went in an instant. It was enough, however, to warn the Pastor that he'd sent Crow's thoughts somewhere bleak. He took the conversation in a different direction. "Garza said you had some trouble with memory loss. He said it wasn't severe. Still and all, it's a treacherous thing, knowing it's hiding in there, waiting to strike when you least expect it."

  "Ever misplace your car keys? Put down a book and can't remember where? Does that make you a menace to society?"

  "That's not the way it is, though, is it? Misplaced car keys can't compare with a couple of misplaced hours. What's it like when you can't remember where the Airstream is? Does that bring on nausea? Headache? Both? Or do they just show up when they please?"

  Crow practically whispered. "Garza doesn't know about me... the Airstream. How'd you know? I didn't... I don't remember telling anybody."

  The Pastor draped an arm across Crow's unresisting shoulders. He said, "A shot in the dark, my friend. The point is, the problem exists."

  Spinning away, Crow threw off the Pastor's arm. "You were gaming me. So I forgot... Never mind. What this is really about isn't me getting better. It's about herding me in with the rest of the sheep, believing all that garbage about being saved, being forgiven, being blessed. It's not there, man. I know."

  "You don't believe that." The Pastor was mild. "Put religion aside. At worst, I'm trying to make you admit what you know to be true; this injury has its teeth in you. It could tear you apart. You don't want our help? Then go to the VA or PacMed. Don't just tell yourself it'll go away because you say it will. It won't. Neither will forgiveness, my friend."

  Instantly, Crow was transfigured. Everything about him signaled warning. Pastor Richards didn't move. Only the instinctive widening of his eyes betrayed his quick fear at Crow's sudden change. He said, "Someone had to say it. It doesn't matter if you count me as your friend or not. I count me as yours. A friend who understands the fear of an all-powerful being who threatens to forgive us when we can't forgive ourselves."

  Crow stared at him like a trapped animal.

  Amber's shout broke the spell. She came toward them with serious deliberation, making Major walk slowly. The dog looked at Crow as if showing off his friend. His movements made it clear Amber was right to keep him in check. His body was twisted, almost crabbed; he favored his left hind leg. As she joined them, Amber was saying, "Major smelled something in the woods on the way home. He pulled on the leash and then he yelped. Did he do anything to hurt himself while I was gone?"

  Kneeling to inspect the wound, Crow's smile turned to a puzzled frown. Lila said, "The flesh around the cut looks angry. Any chance there's some infection?"

  Crow said, "I think so. A little bit. I don't understand..."

  Amber's head was level with his. Guileless wide eyes probed his. "I asked Mom why he's not wearing his bandage or that collar thing that keeps him from licking his side. She said she didn't know, maybe the vet said stop. Did she?"

  Shock twisted Crow's features. His gaze swept from one adult to another. Lila and the Pastor were apprehensive. Sophia conspicuously stayed focused on Major. Crow rose, defiant. "No. I forgot." The facade crumbled as he spoke. He was pale, his normally rugged features suddenly haggard. Lila moved to touch him. He stepped away, saying, "I'll take him to the vet."

  "I'll get my car." Pastor Richards threw the words over his shoulder, already on the way.

  Amber hugged Major's neck. "Will he be all right?"

  Crow said, "Yes. I promise."

  Amber's tears glistened unshed. Her voice trembled. "You promised before. I have to go to school, Who's going to remind you? Will he die if I'm not here and you forget?"

  Lila said, "I'll remind him, sweetheart. Mr. Crow's bringing Major and we're going back to where Pastor Richards and I live. Everything's going to be fine. We'll work on it together."

  Crow told Amber, "It's best for Major if I do that," and Lila's heart soared at the conviction in his voice. Then he turned and she saw him face on. She saw his resentment. And a strange, haunted man who chilled her soul.

  Chapter 21

  Back at Lila's, Crow took over the final backing and filling to position the Airstream by the picnic benches and firepits. He paused before getting out, letting himself remember, relishing a surprising twinge of comfort at the familiarity. It only took a moment to shake himself free of that. When he stepped down from the pickup cab, Pastor Richards complimented him. "I don't know if I could ever learn to do that. I don't mind the normal driving, but parking? Scares me to death."

  "You did fine getting us here."

  Wryly, the Pastor said, "Very kind of you to not mention getting on the ferry."

  Crow laughed. "Ok, not a thing of style and grace. You didn't crash."

  "A man of the cloth deserves an occasional favor from the Almighty."

  The Pastor was surprised to see Crow's gaze flick away to where Lila was approaching. Decades of experience convinced him that Crow had made some kind of connection between the reference to God and the woman. Crow's expression also told him it was not without pain. He had no time to ponder; Crow was saying, "I still think I should have driven here. You saw; I had no trouble on the trip. "

  Undisturbed, the Pastor said, "That was the goal. All of this is about making sure you have no trouble."

  Lila joined them. Crow spoke to her. "Now that I'm here, let's be clear it's only because I put Major at risk. I can't stay if I don't earn my keep."

  Lila objected. "You're supposed to rest."

  "Doc Newton says I should live as normal a life as possible. You need help rehabbing your property. That's me."

  She touched his arm. "You don't need to do that."

  "I know. That makes it all the more important to me."

  "I can't..." Lila shifted uncomfortably. "What if something happens to you?"

  "It won't."

  She turned to the Pastor. "Make him listen."

  Crow said, "I already listened once. That's why I'm here. That's all the listening you all get."

  Pastor Richards sighed. He told Lila, "You're looking at a severe overload of obligation. Don't fight it. Save your breath for when he tries to do too much. I expect plenty of opportunities."

  Lila drew herself a bit taller. She held Crow's gaze. "Everything's ter
ms with you. You want terms? Here's mine: I'm the boss. I assign the job. You do it. Nothing more."

  He took off the Stetson, bowed his head. "Yes, ma'am."

  She partially smothered her grin. "And don't get smart with the boss. You don't leave here until I - and a good doctor - say you can. That's the deal, and if I make a deal, I stay with it if it kills me."

  Dismay fell on her as soon at his reaction. His eyes changed focus. He looked through her. She knew he was the thing that gnawed his soul. He recovered quickly, sending her a thin smile. She hoped hers was more convincing. Walking back toward her car, her thoughts flashed to the long trip home. It had given her time to think. Possibly too much. The primary concern was the presence that had twice found its way into her mind.

  She liked the gender-free word presence, despite her conviction the unnamed visitor who spoke to her was a woman. Ghost conjured fear. Alien sounded all flying saucer-ish. She wrestled with paranormal and decided it just didn't fit. Rather, for something that was so out of the ordinary, the whole experience seemed way too normal. That was the larger surprise of the matter. Instead of eerie wisdom from another world, this woman seemed only to be saying that one finds the one's path through values, rather than cool logic alone. She also seemed to suggest that the path had many branches, some of them terribly wrong and never clearly marked.

  Lila was utterly certain the presence was deeply involved in Crow's condition.

  She was terrified of finding out what that involvement was and desperate to learn.

  Why would a woman do such damage to a man?

  What did the he do to deserve it?

  Ask yourself what you need most to know, fear most to learn: Was it his wife?

  The possibilities inherent in the last question birthed a tiny, vicious thing in the darkest corner of her mind. And still she wanted to help him so much it was a physical ache.

  The Pastor's worried, "Crow? Are you all right?" spun her around. Richards was moving to make sure Crow stayed upright.

  "I'm ok, Pastor. A little dizzy. It's gone now." Crow shrugged himself clear of the Pastor's reach and stretched. "I think I better get some sleep, though. It's been a long day. I'm sorry you all had to stay over last night. My fault, having to get Major to the vet. You all should have been home yesterday."