“I’m heading to physical therapy…can you show me the way?” he asked, his head tilted at an adorable angle, like a puppy. I wanted to snuggle him. Of course, that would be a wee bit inappropriate, so instead I simply nodded and indicated which way we should go. We made our way slowly and silently, the fear of awkwardness pressing me into conversation.
“So, you never told me your name. I think I should know since you rescued me from certain doom,” I joked, and felt a warm sensation pulse through me when he rewarded me with a short laugh.
“Hardly a suitable rescue, but maybe someday I’ll be able to save you properly. I’m Sebastian.”
I blinked. Sebastian…I knew that name. Or maybe I didn’t. He looked up at me, waiting for me to introduce myself.
“I’m J,” I said, wondering if I should hold out my hand for him to shake. As we were already in motion on our way to physical therapy, I decided against it.
“It’s nice to meet you, J. Forgive me, but you look a little young to be rocking the hospital rotation,” he said, the open question dangling.
“I’ll be a senior in high school this year. This experience is meant to put me at the front of the candidate list for pre-med.”
“That’s very ambitious of you,” he said, and I blushed at how impressed he sounded.
“Well, what about you?” I asked. His eyes shaded over, as if he had forgotten for a moment why he was at the hospital, in a chair. We arrived at the door for physical therapy, and I stopped, still waiting for his answer. He rubbed his eyes with the fore and middle finger of his right hand.
“What about me…” he trailed off. “I’ll have to get back to you on that…at present I’m not really sure who I am anymore.”
I nodded and bid him farewell, heading back to my original route in search of Dolly and some busy work to keep my mind off of how I felt just looking at him. It was though I had already lost something, and desperately wanted it back.
And only he could give me whatever it was.
***
The next day I was approached by Dolly before I even had time to sit in my usual corner for data entry.
“You seem to have made quite an impression,” she said, her smile reaching her ears. I quirked my head and waited for her to elaborate.
“Sebastian would like you to join us for his physical therapy session today. He said, and I quote, ‘I think I can go farther if I have someone I’d like to get to.’ Do you have any idea what that means?”
I shook my head, bewildered, but not unpleased. There was so much more I wanted to know, and with school starting soon I would have my time at the hospital considerably cut short.
“Well, come on then,” she said waving me out of my chair. I rose and followed her to the physical therapy gym, where patients who had lost pieces of themselves tried to put their lives back together again. After the Boston marathon bombing, we had been swarmed with runners missing a foot here, a leg there. The problem wasn’t so much being able to walk as it was coming to terms with never being able to feel sand between your toes again. When Dolly opened the door, I was surprised to find Sebastian already there waiting for us. When he saw me, the cloud in his eyes lifted, and he flashed a smile of perfectly aligned white teeth.
“Ah, so glad you could join us,” he said grandly, as though he were the Great Gatsby and I had been invited to his elaborate party. I resisted the urge to curtsey, which was ridiculous. When was the last time anyone had curtseyed? I greeted him as professionally as possible and waited for Dolly to go over his training schedule for the day.
“We’ll have you do some stretches first with me, get your legs all warmed up and ready to go, and then we’ll have you on the bars to practice walking—sound good?”
I hung back while Dolly helped Sebastian out of his chair and onto a padded floor. Together they stretched, her holding his legs at certain angles, him wincing at the pain of reawakening muscles that had been unused for too long. Not knowing what to do and trying not to stare, I began to organize the equipment, which was entirely unnecessary because it was already in perfect order.
“Don’t you want to know what happened to me?” Sebastian called over, giving me a reason to join them without being awkward. I put down an elastic workout band and plopped down on a blue sofa.
“I wouldn’t want to pry…” I hesitated. He had closed down so quickly when I asked about him the day before that I was scared he would cut me out altogether if I tried again. The fact that he was inviting me in sent a tingle through me that I didn’t want to acknowledge. His smirk was bitter.
“Might as well tell you anyway. After all, you all are the ones in charge of my recovery right? It’s not like the General would want to talk about it…he’s been afraid to look at me since it happened. I think deep down he blames himself, which is stupid.”
I leaned in and put my elbows on my knees, at full attention. We learned very early on that when someone started talking on our watch it was because they needed someone to listen—needed to unload. I waited patiently for Sebastian to unweave his web and start the healing process, however long it would take. He sighed deeply, hissing in his breath as Dolly deepened the stretch across his leg. He then looked up at me, and I saw the weight of the world in his eyes.
“I was able to graduate high school early so that I could enlist in the Army, just like my father, his brother, and their father before them. We fight wars. It’s the family business.”
Dolly turned him to the side, pretzeling his body in a different direction. Sebastian ran his hand through his hair, and I watched black tendrils twine and toss between his large fingers.
“My mother was a beautiful woman from Qatar. My father fell in love with her almost instantly, though her family did everything they could to keep them apart. My dad is half Columbian, so he already knew what it was like to deal with a protective family—the people we know down there are very tight-knit,” he explained. I imagined a young woman, her head covered in a headdress, her beauty shining out from underneath, falling in love with the dashing foreigner in his uniform. Sebastian cast his gaze to the ground, his memories playing out.
“After 9/11 we were eventually all transferred to Afghanistan to stem the Taliban flow there. My sister, cousin and I never saw a day off the base. Part of me didn’t believe it when they told us it was too dangerous. I didn’t believe them until my mother left to try her hand at the local market and was murdered in cold blood. Not even a month later my uncle was taken by a landmine, his car blown right off the road.”
I wrapped my arms around my middle and rubbed my hands along their length. It was a strange time to be alive, where America was in the middle of a war that we knew so little about. Our soldiers were dying, but often most people didn’t really know why. We were told it was to stop the terrorists, and that was all. Being seventeen, I had tried to focus on my small life in my own corner of the world, mostly because I knew what it was like outside of my bubble. And I liked it better inside. Sebastian continued, though his eyes glistened and he had to clear his throat.
“By then I was filled with hate so deep it kept me up for days on end. The bitter taste of my mother’s death poisoned my food. I barely ate, preferring to fast on water as some kind of sacrifice to her. I graduated early so that I could be enlisted and handed a gun—I needed to kill the bastards who had taken my family from me. I had to protect my sister.”
Tears were falling freely now as he unleashed the burden he had been carrying. I wondered if we were the first ones to hear his story. Generally, men were looked down upon for showing emotion, though that seemed to be changing slightly with our generation. Still, I could feel his shame in weeping, though he could not stop himself. I fought the urge to rush to his side, to hold him until the pain melted away and he knew he could be safe here, with us. Instead, I pinned my arms firmly in place. Dolly pulled a tissue from a small pack in her pocket—always prepared.
“I trained hard, fighting to be the top of my unit. We were stripped
of ourselves and turned into soldiers, killing machines. When I first went out, I couldn’t tell if I was more scared or furious—all I could feel was adrenaline pumping through me, begging for an outlet. We were attacked a few weeks into active duty…I looked into the eyes of so many men, before I killed them. When you’re in the heat of battle, you just don’t think about what it is to take a life…you do it because you must, and because you’ve had it beaten into you. It was only a month before I took a bullet that grazed my spine and took out my legs.”
Ah, so that brings us to here, I thought. As he spoke of his time serving in the military, his tears had dissolved, his body grew tense, and Dolly had to remind him to relax his muscles more than once. He listened without looking at her, because his eyes were locked on mine, and they begged me to understand. I didn’t blink. Something in me did understand. Although I had always been terrified of guns, I had shot a BB gun once and hit the target dead on, like I had been trained. Although I had a good laugh about it with my friends, I didn’t pick it up again.
Sebastian sighed, releasing me from the death grip of his stare. He tilted back his neck and rubbed it with his hand, massaging the tension from his shoulders. I knew that for now, his story was done.
“That’s quite a lot to go through in just 18 years,” Dolly commented, laying both his legs out straight.
“That’s the understatement of the century,” I said, and to my relief, Sebastian laughed. Still, his smile never quite reached his eyes, and I realized that he was far more broken than I could have ever imagined. I wondered if he would ever close his eyes without fear. Without images of war pasted to the back of his lids.
“Well, let’s see if we can help you conquer another obstacle, shall we?” Dolly helped him back into the chair, and he wheeled over to the two long support bars, meant to train people back into walking upright. I made my way to the other end, taking my place as his final destination. I tried to squash the butterflies in my belly as our eyes met and locked. His muscles strained as he grasped onto the bars and heaved himself up onto his legs, standing perfectly still. His brow blossomed with sweat, his gaze intense as he focused all his energy into moving just one leg forward.
The thing with this type of recovery is that it takes time and patience…something the American mindset is not equipped for. We get instant gratification for everything in our lives, from food to movies to information. The hardest part of recovering from an illness is the willingness to slow down and allow time for the healing process to occur, and I watched the frustration and fury play out over Sebastian’s face as he tried over and over to kick one leg forward.
Finally, he made it one step…two steps…and nearly collapsed. Dolly caught him easily, guiding him back to the chair where he could sit and come to grips with the time it would take to make it through his recovery. He breathed heavily, avoiding eye contact with either of us. Kindly, Dolly put a hand on his, and he allowed it to rest there.
“The fact that you can move your legs at all is a gift…remember that,” she said, addressing the open disappointment in his expression. “If you ask more of yourself than you can give, you’re in for a long road.”
Sebastian paused, then nodded, finally casting a shy glance back at me. I smiled encouragingly, and was rewarded with a small nod. Dolly clapped her hands together.
“I think that’ll be enough for this morning,” she said, her tone brisk. “J, can you please escort Sebastian back to his room?” I nodded, waiting for him to get his bearings back and wheel over to me at the door. He pulled his Pelicans hat from a side pocket in the chair and slid it on.
“Interesting team choice,” I said, casting him a sideways glance. He smiled, a true, warm smile.
“It belonged to a friend of mine. We served together. He was a complete idiot…he would do things just to piss people off all the time. I’m pretty sure he picked this team as his favorite because they’re the worst in the league, just to choose something that no one else would,” he laughed, pulling the cap from his head and gazing at it wistfully.
“He died in the same raid I was injured in. I was trying to save his life when the bullet caught me, and I wasn’t able to get up again,” he whispered, so quietly I almost didn’t hear. We continued on in silence, and I stood awkwardly outside his room, not knowing if I should leave. He glanced up.
“I’d love some company, if you’re allowed,” he said, providing me with my answer. We made our way to his room, where we chatted about pop culture and music. I realized then that getting to know Sebastian would be one of the first meaningful things I would do with my life, and I sat at complete attention as he told me funny stories, keeping it light after such a tough session.
As great as the stories were, his lips were my primary distraction. I wondered just how they would feel against mine, and then mentally slapped myself for being so foolish.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A Dark Breeze Blows
I spent the next two weeks looking forward to our sessions, the school year closing in too quickly. From when we first started to the day before class, Sebastian had been able to walk a few steps, and we all cheered at the progress he made. Afterwards, I would sit with him in his room for a bit, chatting about what it was like growing up a world apart. I didn’t envy him the life of a military brat, and he didn’t envy me the quiet boredom of the country. I told him about my mother and how I wanted to go to Africa someday and see where she and my father had worked. He told me about life in the Middle East, how it was so different from us and yet so glaringly similar.
“There are the same types of people everywhere,” he declared on a rainy afternoon, the smattering of water against the window forcing him to raise his voice slightly. “You’ve got jerks and really amazing people, and the people who just want to get by every day. The human condition is so universal that war is really laughable when you think about it.” I gazed out at the rain-soaked forest, pondering.
“You’re going to school tomorrow,” he said, changing the subject. I nodded, making a face. He laughed.
“You should enjoy it while you have it, J. You never know what curveballs life will throw at you next,” he said, and I sighed.
“You’re right, I should be more excited than I am,” I admitted. “I just…don’t think I’m ready for the change that comes after this. I’m so excited to see everyone in class again, get a new schedule, learn new things, but then what? In the summer we’ll promise each other that we’ll be friends forever, but then college will come and drive us apart, whether we want it to or not.”
Sebastian frowned, his eyebrows pursing together in thought.
“Only if you let it,” he said sagely. “True friends stay with you until the end of time, so they say.”
“So they say…” I said, letting the subject drop. Our time together passed quickly as it always did, and before I knew it I was back home for the night, preparing for my first day of high school for the last time. My dad was sitting in front of the wood stove, reading a book on Obamacare. I padded my way down the stairs, shivering in my shorts and tank top against the air-conditioned room. He looked up as I headed to the kitchen to pack my lunch.
“Back to school tomorrow then,” he said, not looking up from his book.
“Yep,” I agreed. This was the same conversation we’d had pretty much since I walked my way to kindergarten.
“No B’s. With your experience at the hospital, high test scores, a perfect GPA and a solid entrance essay, you should be able to get into a great school next year. Only the best, J,” he finished, nodding in appreciation of his own speech, satisfied.
“Mmmhmm,” I agreed, filling little plastic baggies with a sandwich, some chips, and baby carrots. Always the best…always the same. No involvement beyond that. My father in a nutshell.
I fell asleep surprisingly easily, with the rain falling gently against the roof. I snuggled underneath my duvet, grateful for a bed, a shelter, and a full belly. I reminded myself of how many people l
ived without these basic things as I slid a bare leg across my cool white sheets and rolled onto my stomach, embracing the warmth of a dreamless slumber.
I parked in my usual spot the next morning, meeting up with Giselle as we walked our way to our favorite pre-class hangout spot. I waved to friends as we passed by, yawning. Didn’t adults realize that having kindergarteners go to school at noon and high schoolers go to school at seven a.m. was totally backwards? We need sleep too, people!
I was laughing at some ridiculous joke, giggling and glancing back at Giselle, when I ran into a brick wall.
“Ow, you bitch!”
Papers scattered all over the ground, and I stared at them in bewilderment, not sure who had just insulted me over a simple mistake.
“Excuse me? It was an accident,” I said, miffed. I bent to pick up the papers and noticed that the girl wasn’t doing the same. She was actually watching me, enjoying my efforts on her behalf. I could tell by her coloring and features that she was one of Sebastian’s relations, which immediately made me sad. I hated her already. I thought about throwing the papers back on the ground for her to pick up, and reminded myself that sinking to a bully’s level was the last thing one should ever do. Peevishly, I handed her the pile.
“You could do with some better manners,” I said, trying really hard to assume the best in her. She was tall and very skinny with clothes that were a tad too revealing. I knew she’d be called out and asked to adhere to the dress code immediately, her pink bra straps flashing from her bony shoulders. She raised a heavily penciled eyebrow at me, her eyes caked in black mascara, her lips glossed to death.
“It’s not my fault you’re a moron,” she said, flipping her hair and turning in the opposite direction. I stared after her, my mouth agape. Another girl, the other of Sebastian’s relations, came up to us holding her notebook self-consciously across her chest like it would somehow provide protection from the raging masses of teenagers.
Past Lives Page 19