by J. Darling
“How was Nate this morning?” Bev asked.
“He was in good spirits,” she answered, “behaved as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, and was happy when I told him I was meeting you for breakfast.”
Then Kris asked, “What did happen?”
Linnie and Jake took turns explaining what they’d witnessed the day before, both at Walmart, and during the night. Then Linnie provided them with details of what happened at the cabin.
“I know he isn’t sleeping much,” Bev added. “When he was at our house, he was up until the early morning hours before it’d be quiet.”
“Yes, your right,” Linnie answered. “He is having trouble. He admitted as much to me, but refused to discuss why, then let it slip that he’s feeling anxious. I think it extends to the level of panic at times too. I just can’t figure out what yesterday was all about. He didn’t want us to go to St. Croix, he wanted to go to Rice Lake. It didn’t seem to matter that it was Walmart, well at least not until we got there.”
“It’s interesting,” Steven said, “because he was kind of like that with the truck, not going there to pick it up when it was ready, and come to think of it, the day we went to the collection center in Minneapolis, he had an episode where he was in a kind of trance. I initially thought he’d fallen asleep, but when I went to rouse him, his body was rigid, not relaxed. I had to really shout and shake him to get him to come out of it, and once he did, he startled me when he jumped and shouted out in a panic. He was visibly shaken, kind of disoriented, looking around, and appeared somewhat confused.”
“It seems to me,” Linnie’s dad said, “that Highway 8 is the common thread. Walmart’s on Highway 8, Johnson’s is on Highway 8, and you need to travel twenty miles on Highway 8 to get to Minneapolis. There must be something about Highway 8 that he’s avoiding.”
“Nik, would you mind getting my laptop from the car, and doing an internet search to see if we can figure this out? Linnie asked.
“Can you do that now? Connect to the internet somewhere else?” Steven asked.
“Yeah, it’s new, but all the coffee houses in Chicago have it. We’d go to them to study all the time.” Linnie answered.
Nik returned eating a doughnut. Opening up the laptop and booting it up, he explained, “They don’t have Wi-Fi here, but they do a couple doors down at the bakery. I bought a doughnut and asked for the password, they gave it to me, aaaand it looks like we can pick it up here. Great!” He started typing.
Their food arrived, and they’d all begun eating, when Jake said, “I know something’s going on with Nate, but I can’t even say I know what PTSD is really. I have an idea, but has anyone had time to look into it?”
Linnie looked at Bev. “You want to try that one?”
“It’s a common reaction to life-threatening events, or trauma, that can worsen, or refuse to go away over time,” Bev explained. “According to the U.S. Department of Veteran Affairs it can happen in several ways. One way has the person reliving the traumatic experience over and over. Another has them avoiding situations that remind them of an event. A third way has them in a state of extreme vigilance, also known as hyperarousal. While a fourth way is when there are negative changes in thoughts and feelings.”
“So,” Bev continued, “flashbacks, nightmares, night terrors, which are different than nightmares by the way, avoidance of situations or conversations, distrusting fearful behaviors, anger, shame, guilt, difficulty sleeping, it’s all part of the package, and expected to some degree in our returning troops, but when the symptoms interfere with everyday activities, with work, and with a person’s relationships, it’s time to get help.”
Kris jumped in. “Does anyone know why he was in five years, I mean isn’t it usually four? He said he joined right when he left here, but it’s been a little over five years.”
“Yeah,” Jake answered. “When we were moving furniture, he told me they wouldn’t let him out. They followed the stop-loss policy, making him stay active till they decided he was done. They claimed they needed his specialized abilities as a Ranger, and sent him back over. He was pretty bitter about it, which I understand, but that may explain some things too.”
Steven cleared his throat. “Linnie, have you felt threatened by his behavior? Are you concerned for your safety?”
“No, I haven’t felt or seen anything threatening. Yes, he became angry, angrier than I’ve ever seen him, but I never felt like I was at risk for physical harm. Mostly, he’s been overly protective and gentle. It’s like he said, when these things come upon him, he just wants to be close to me, so close that I feel his body tremble. Jake and I have a system in place, one that allows me to alert him should I need help.”
Placing a napkin on his empty plate, Karl said, “What I want to know is how to treat it. How does he get rid of it?”
“There’s no getting rid of it, Daddy. It will always be there, but we can improve his coping mechanisms. That means a lot of talk therapy, counseling, and medication. He needs to talk about what’s in his head, and we need to get him sleeping. I know part of that inability to calm, the heightened anxiety, is brought about by an imbalance of chemicals in the body, so I want to see what we can do there. I’m going to call Jules and get her input, see what the consensus is on the pharmaceutical end of things.”
“Where does he go for all this counseling and stuff?” her father asked.
“The closest VA clinic is in Rice Lake. They can do basic stuff, and make referrals, but an actually PTSD program is at the VA in Minneapolis.” Linnie answered.
“That’s going to be tough to get to if he won’t go on Highway 8,” Jake answered.
Linnie nodded, “Guess we better get used to going through Grantsburg then, it’ll add an extra half an hour each way, but if we have to go that route to avoid Highway 8, then we go that route.”
Linnie noticed Nik sitting quiet as a church mouse, which was highly unusual. “Nik, you find anything on the computer that can explain what’s going on?”
“Yeah, I think so. I looked at a few different sites. Essentially, there’s only one way for our troops to get into Iraq, and that’s through Kuwait. On top of that, there appears to be only one main road from Kuwait through southern Iraq. So, only one route, and only one road, which makes anyone on it a sitting duck.”
“The kicker is, it starts out as Highway 80, and then branches off into Highway 8, and is a main way into Bagdad from the south. The two roads are associated with the terminology ‘Highway of Death’ due to the number of casualties in the Gulf War, and apparently, was once again used by our troops reentering Iraq in two thousand three. You may or may not want to see these. They’re images taken of Highway 8 after the fighting.” Lifting the computer, he passed it on. They all took turns looking. If a picture was worth a thousand words, then there was nothing left to be said.
CHAPTER 13
“Jules?” Linnie was so happy to hear her friend’s voice.
“Linnie, where are you? Are you on your way back?”
“I’m at home, and no, I’m not on my way back.”
“I’ve missed you,” Jules said, then asked “Is everything going okay? You haven’t heard from Purdy have you?”
“No, thank goodness, but there’s some other news.”
“Tell me, what is it?”
“Nate’s back and…well…we’re an item again.”
“Oh my, that is news, for sure. Are you happy? Is it okay? I mean, what happened? Gosh, I don’t know if I should be happy or sad,” she said, sounding perplexed and a little ambivalent.
Over the course of a half an hour, Linnie brought Jules up to speed. “So, as you can tell, a lot has happened in two weeks, with more to come, and well, I wanted to call you because I really, really miss you, and because I need your help, and well, because I really need my best friend right now.”
“I’ll help the best I can. I do have to say though, I knew you wouldn’t be coming back. There was no reason for you too, you can have what y
ou had here, anywhere. So why come back here?”
“You, Jules, you were the reason.”
“Oh, Linnie, you’re very special to me too.”
“Special enough to come and spend Thanksgiving in Luck, Wisconsin, with me?” Linnie asked expectantly, with a lilt in her voice.
“Ahhh…well…ummm…”
“Say yes, please. I want to see you, and I can’t come visit you right now with the way things are. You’re my best friend, you’re the sister I’ve always wanted. Please say yes, please. I don’t want you alone during the holiday.”
Jules was silent. Then said tentatively, “Maybe, well, yeah, I suppose I could.”
“Yaaaay! I’m so happy! It’ll be fun, I promise. You’ll see,” she said, trying to reassure her friend.
“You know why I’m so nervous.”
“Yes, I do, but honestly, the guys are harmless, and you’re nervous and unsure because you’ve never spent time around males. It’ll be okay. Trust me, they’re a protective bunch, and even though they like to josh around, they’ll take you under their wing and watch out for you. Plus, I’ll be here, so you won’t be alone. I promise.”
“We’ll see,” Jules said unconvinced.
Linnie chuckled at Jules uncertainty. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I need your pharmaceutical opinion. What can we do from a medication standpoint to help Nate?”
“Let me research it a bit. I’ll find you the most up to date information out there, and either email it, or send you the links for credible sites.”
“That’d be great, I’d appreciate that. How about in the short term? It’ll take time to get him an appointment, and we still have the issue of getting him to agree to get help. Is there something we could try to bring down his anxiety, and help him sleep in the mean time?”
“Well, there are the ever popular and always controversial, vitamins and natural supplements. You know, some people swear by them, while others don’t,” Jules replied.
“Yeah, I don’t know much about that stuff, and up here in Luck, there won’t be a wealth of resources to help me out. Any suggestions? He’s having trouble getting to sleep, and staying asleep, because he’s anxious. I’d like to start there.”
“Hmmmm, heightened anxiety, panic, likely sustained due to the amount of time he was enlisted, resulting in a reprogramming of the brain and its feedback mechanisms. So, probable changes in serotonin, norepinephrine, GABA, dopamine, melatonin, as well as cortisol levels… Well, the theory is that melatonin supplements will help people get to sleep, but don’t necessarily keep them asleep, however, many of the benzo’s we give for anxiety, are designed to mimic GABA, which helps to decrease brain activity, and would, in theory, help keep him asleep.
“I suggest you start by trying melatonin and GABA supplements in the short term, until you can get him into the clinic. None of this stuff is properly regulated, and the verdict is still out regarding their true effectiveness pending more studies. I would look for natural supplements over synthetic, and I would throw in a multivitamin, should he be deficient in other areas. Many of these supplements need the aid of other substances to be synthesized effectively.”
“That helps. It gives me a starting point, and I really appreciate it. I’ll head in to Walmart and see what I can find. It’ll be my best source until I can get into Minneapolis. Get me the date of when you’ll be coming for Thanksgiving, and plan to stay a while. I’ll pick you up at the airport, and we’ll go from there. Sound good?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in touch. Take care, Linnie.”
“You too. We’ll talk soon.”
**********
Nate couldn’t settle. His skin felt tight, his neck and shoulders tense, and his hands kept clenching and releasing. Anxious, he was anxious. Another day with no test results. He’d been edgy and irritable all day, and it was carrying on into the night. What happened yesterday, he wondered. He’d lost it. He couldn’t go on Highway 8, he just couldn’t, and then when he’d finally found his way through to the back of the Walmart lot, he thought the panic would be over, but instead, was confronted by another problem. He couldn’t go where there were so many people unchecked. Why? Because anyone could come in and bomb the place, or start shooting. Then he’d had to go through all their bags, just in case someone had slipped an explosive inside.
He hated that Linnie had been all the way across the store without protection, but he couldn’t go in. Without the support of his squad, he’d had to stay to the perimeter of the store with his back to the wall, scanning and watching. He needed to start lifting weights again,” he thought, that had always helped him before. He’d lift, and lift, and lift, till he couldn’t pick up a straw, and then he’d be able to sleep. He hated the nightmares, the flashbacks. Why couldn’t they stop? He wanted them to stop. He didn’t want anyone to know about all this, but after yesterday, they probably think I’m crazy.
His heart started pounding, and he didn’t feel like he could breath. He needed to calm down. He needed to close his eyes and take some deep breaths. He did, and his eyes popped wide open. He couldn’t. He had to. But…but…as soon as he closed his eyes, and took a breath, the explosions started. He could hear them plain as day, except it was nighttime in his head, and he was in the black. All he could see were flashes of light accompanying the battle ahead, as he stood awaiting orders.
An informant had provided information regarding the whereabouts of a group of insurgents, after they’d publicly executed a man. He, and his squad, were assigned the task of infiltrating the home during the dead of night. They went in fully expecting a fight, and weren’t disappointed. Two men, using children as shields, began shooting upon penetration. They were immediately shot dead, the children left alive. Continuing through the home, they found a mass of huddled women and children, but no men. Unconvinced, they continued their search, only to turn up a hidden tunnel under a shower basin in the bathroom. Fighting ensued. Unable to advance beyond the bathroom door, because of gunfire and grenades launched from the hole, they retreated and regrouped, in and around the surrounding buildings. Calling for an airstrike, they waited.
KABOOOM! The earth shook. FZZZZZ, thud, BOOM! The walls rocked. RAT-A-TAT-TAT…TAT-TAT! Bullets whistled overhead. Then a light airy TING nearby. He was running, runni… BOOM! Thrust in the air, then thrown to the ground, the air was forced from him, unable to be found. Dazed and confused, he rolled to his back, noting a burning tingle throughout, followed by a deep ache, he quietly tried to put out. Unable to breathe, he began to cough, feeling blood splatter on his face with each reflexive hack. He heard yelling, shouting, and a frantic call for medics in the near distance. He was suffocating, he knew that now, his chest resounding with a signaling smack.
Looking beyond what lay on the ground, he reached to the heavens, twinkling stars were all around. Lord God, please don’t take me, please let me live to stare upon her once more, please… His vision dimmed, his head grew light, he lie there staring at the starry night, sand raining down in heaven’s goodnight. I have to live…for…her.
Opening his eyes, he turned his head. She was there, lying next to him, and he knew he’d lived. He hated closing his eyes. He hated closing them in the dark. He hated the quiet of the sleeping house. He was bone tired, and weary, having stayed up the whole of last night. He needed sleep, but he was jumpy and shaky, and he needed to get up. He needed to do something, but he didn’t know what.
“Promise me the next time you’re up in the middle of the night, you’ll wake me.”
“I promise.”
“Linnie.” He rubbed her shoulder. He felt bad doing this, she’d only been asleep a couple hours. “Linnie, please wake up.”
Opening her eyes, she blinked a few times and focused, then reached for him, hugging him close. “You having trouble sleeping honey?”
He nodded, feeling empty.
Kissing him, she gave him a squeeze, then said, “I’m glad you woke me, come with me.” Getting out of bed, she held out her han
d to him.
Taking it, he followed her.
“You fell asleep before I did. Do you want to tell me what woke you up?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled, “just feel edgy, can’t settle down.”
“Hmmmm, well there are some things I do when I can’t sleep, so let’s see if they can help you too. Sit at the table, it’ll just take a minute or two.”
Going to the cupboard, she pulled out a pan, poured in some milk, added other things, and then put it on the stove to heat. After a few minutes, she poured the contents into two cups and handed him one. “Let’s start with this.”
He took a sip. Not bad, he thought. It was pretty good actually. “What is it?”
“Milk with some honey, vanilla, nutmeg, a little of this and that. Would you be willing to take some supplements to help with sleep, I have some.”
He was leery. “What do you mean by supplements?”
“Like vitamins.” she answered.
He wasn’t sure how that would help his problem, but okay. “Yeah, I guess.”
Getting her purse, she pulled out some bottles, opened them, then handed him some tablets.
Studying them, he asked, “What are they?”
“Melatonin, and a multivitamin, and in here—she held up a little bottle—is GABA. It’s a liquid, and you only need a couple drops.”
“Is this stuff okay to take?”
“People take this stuff all the time. What do you have to lose? If it works, great, if not, then we don’t do it again.”
Taking what she gave him in one gulp, he opened his mouth and she added a couple drops of the liquid. Okay, not bad tasting, he thought, as he washed it down with his milk.
“You want more milk?”
He shook his head no.
“Come.” She held out her hand again.
Taking it, she led them back to their bedroom.
Standing next to the bed, she looked up at him, and trying to give him words for his feelings, she said, “Often times, when I’ve had a particularly trying day at work, I can be like you said, edgy, wound up, wanting to lay down and go to sleep, but when I do, I feel like I have to get up and move around. I call it the rattles, because I’m up rattling around in my skin. It’s kind of weird, because most times when I get like that, it’s because something big went down at work, and I just want to be held, nothing else, just held. It comforts me, helps me to know I’m okay, that I’m safe. I could do that for you, hold you, if you think that would help.”