The Music Trilogy

by Kahn, Denise

  He stared at the liquid jade of Sam’s eyes. He had never seen such a beautiful color, and he was sure that the rest of her face was just as exquisite.

  “I wish I had that guitar with me. It would really help the wounded.”

  “Really? How so?”

  “Oh, I can’t really get into it now. Too much work to do.”

  “But could you tell me about it some other time. I’m into music myself.”

  “Are you?”

  “I am.” Max wanted only to stare and to see the rest of her face. “Are you, uh, almost finished with Hamid?” What was it about this woman? Max never had such a reaction to anyone before.

  “Yes, why?”

  “I thought maybe you’d like a coffee.”

  “No,” she said flatly.

  “A soda?”

  Sam untied her mask and took it off. Max looked at what he believed was the most stunning face he had ever seen. His heart skipped a beat, and his eyes turned violet. He thought his chest would explode. Never had he reacted to a woman in such a way, and he wanted her. Oh, how he wanted her! She took off her gloves and threw them in a bin and the young man’s heart sank down to his feet—she was wearing an engagement ring.

  Colin, who witnessed the little tête-à-tête hadn’t said a word. He quickly understood the look in Max’s eyes and knew better than interfere when the guy had his sights on a girl. “Well, we have to get back,” the big man said. “It was nice meeting you Sam, and thanks for what you did for Ham. Oh, and I’m Colin by the way.”

  “No problem, nice meeting you too.”

  Colin started to leave when he noticed a nurse, Chantal, coming out of an OR. She removed her mask and surgical gown. He gasped at the beauty of the woman and knew without a doubt that she was just as beautiful inside. There really was such a thing as love at first sight, he thought. He would have to visit the CSH more often, they both would.

  ♫

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  CHAPTER 25

  Davina Walters’ manager, Jacques Laffitte, was on the telephone, his instrument of choice. He conducted business all over the world for the singer’s concerts, bookings, interviews and anything that was needed. He was a master at his craft and had made both himself and the singer very wealthy and world famous. Of course Davina had the talent and Jacques was just as good at his endeavors. They had an unbreakable understanding—he ensured that everything went smoothly and she just needed to focus on her music. It was a pact they made twenty years ago when they first started, and would always be in effect. They loved each other as the closest brother and sister could. Monique, Jacques’ wife, and Davina had been best friends since school and their friendship was as solid as concrete. Jacques and Alejandro had also been best friends since their days at the Sorbonne and the four were closer than blood relatives.

  Davina walked into one of the guest cottages on the estate she kept exclusively for the Laffittes. “Jacques, how is everything coming along?” She asked as soon as the man hung up.

  He looked up at her and shook his head. “You’re a little crazy, you know that.”

  “Tell me something new, mon ami. Anything less than ‘a little crazy’ would simply be boring.” Davina always spoke French with Jacques. Although he was fluent in several languages he was most comfortable conversing in his mother tongue.

  “As far as entertainment it is a brilliant coup! Everyone is excited—the press is delighted, the television shows are thrilled, even the military is happy.”

  “The military?”

  “Yes. It will boost the troops’ morale.”

  “I see. But they are making sure that no one knows about Max.”

  “Oh, yes, that is one of the best kept secrets. They won’t even tell us where he is.”

  “Do you think he’ll be at the concert?”

  “They won’t say, but I have a feeling that they’ll arrange it somehow. What you’re doing is very brave, Davina. That would be the least they could do for you.”

  “Well, to be honest, it was a way to see Max, but it’s become much more than that. It’s my way in helping the war effort, not just the proceeds from the documentary and TV specials, but as a support for the brave men and women who are putting their lives on the line for the ones they love—for us, their families and their country.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Are you ready, though?”

  “Absolutely. Actually I think it’s going to be a lot of fun because I won’t be the only entertainer, and all of us will be on the same plane.”

  “Good. Tomorrow’s the day, at first light we are supposed to be at the base.”

  “Yes, that’s fine. I’m just sorry Alejandro won’t be able to join us,” Davina said. “He would have wanted to be present and see Max. And you know how he hates missing any of my concerts.”

  “Yes, I know only too well,” Jacques answered.

  “It’s a shame we couldn’t use our own plane, but the military said it would be too dangerous.”

  “This is the ‘crazy’ I was talking about. You can still reconsider, Davina. We are, after all, going into a war zone with interesting effects like grenades and machine guns. And I have clauses of every kind protecting us.”

  Davina laughed. “Oh, Jacques, if the military was half as good as you are a strategist the war would be over in a couple of months.”

  “Yes, of course, but unfortunately my forte is in entertainment law, not military maneuvers.”

  ♫

  COMBAT SUPPORT HOSPITAL

  CHAPTER 26

  Five minutes after the call the HH60L Black Hawk helicopter ambulance was in the air. Tyrone, one of the youngest pilots in the military, was racing just a few hundred feet about the plateau of sand toward his destination and the injured. He spotted the smoke flare and in just a few seconds the chopper was on the ground. Soldiers quickly lifted the two critically wounded into the helicopter’s cargo area and the steel bird with red crosses painted on its nose and sides lifted off just a couple of minutes after its initial landing. The interior could be configured to transport personnel, cargo or wounded soldiers. Any one of these configurations took no more than two minutes and the flight medic had already converted the area with the litters he needed. As soon as the injured were on board he immediately hooked them up to the supply of oxygen that was housed in the door panels and started working on their injuries. The helicopter was well equiped, enabling the medics to perform anything from major treatment to minor surgeries. Tyrone made sure the ECS, the environmental control system, was at a comfortable temperature, as the cabin could reach up to 170 degrees Fahrenheit.

  Tyrone flew them to the combat hospital. He reflected that it was a Black Hawk, very similar to the one he was flying now, that had rescued him on that fateful day during the hurricane that killed his parents and destroyed his home. But it was also due to that circumstance and the Coast Guard crew that he found himself in the position of flying an aeromedical evacuation aircraft. He loved his job as a military pilot and he loved his bird. The instruments were state of the art and could guide him in inclement weather, through storms and during night rescues. He also loved that he was in a war zone where he could some good. His crew on board felt the same way and they all worked well together, so much so that they could almost read each other’s minds. Tyrone flew into the CSH compound, landing gently, albeit kicking up dust. The medical team on the ground was waiting, and as soon as they opened the door they immediately took the wounded into the hospital. Tyrone saw his sister and Sam ready to take his precious cargo. He saluted and blew them a kiss, and they returned the gesture. The sister and brother were proud of each other and had come a long way since the devastation in New Orleans.

  The medical team took the wounded soldiers into the ER. Chantal and Sam were among them.

  “Hey, Devereaux,” the doctor handling the patient they were working on said.”

  “Yes, Doctor?”

  “Tyrone, he’s your brother, right?”

  “That�
�s right.”

  “Well, young lady, I want you to know that he is one of the finest helicopter pilots I’ve had the privilege to fly with. And that’s saying something ‘cause I’ve ridden with some of the best and I’ve been doing this since Desert Storm. He’s damn young, but he’s a natural. He has the feel for it. I’m sure glad he’s on our team.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be sure to tell him and I know he’ll be very honored at your compliment.”

  “And deservedly so. Now let’s try to save this boy’s arm.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  He opened his palm face up and before he could say “clamp” Chantal had already placed it there. Even under the mask the doctor was smiling. “You Devereaux kids are damn good at what you do. Keep it up!”

  “Yes, Doctor, thank you, Sir.”

  That week the CSH treated over two hundred wounded. Many returned to their units in less than seventy-two hours and were happy to return to their buddies. About one hundred were MEDEVACed to Landstuhl with Hercules C130’s converted into flying care centers. Sadly ten percent did not survive. Sam never anticipated how hard the first death hit her. She and her team tried to save as many as they could with all the knowledge and skill they possessed, but when one of them died it left them empty and frustrated. They were sure a little piece of their soul died with each one of the deceased. They all tried to distance themselves, well that was what they were supposed to do. But having worked on the injured bodies and being covered with their blood left them exasperated and disconcerted when those young lives ceased to exist.

  The pace reached a ridiculous level with every member of the medical staff, from the highest ranking officer to the soldiers that just finished boot camp, working day and night with hardly any sleep. And even though they were totally exhausted, they were the consummate professionals and damn proud of the work and the lives they saved.

  Sam even continued after the grueling medical attention of the operations and the care giving. She would visit the recovering wounded, sit by their side, hold their hands and sing to them. Some were conscious, others weren’t, but deep down she firmly believed that with music she could reach and help each and every one.

  ♫

  BAGHDAD

  CHAPTER 27

  In the frenzy that was war Colin and Max were able to get a few hours to themselves. They both knew what they wanted to do and they borrowed a jeep from the motor pool and headed for the CSH.

  “So, what’s happening with gorgeous Miss New Orleans and you?”

  “What about you and Sam?”

  “She’s engaged.”

  “Well, that could change. And if it doesn’t you can always be friends.”

  “Yeah, right. I don’t want to be friends, Haf, I want to be the air that she breaths, the music she hears…”

  “Oooh, this boy’s got it bad.”

  “Man, I’ve never felt like this about any woman before. There’s just something about her.”

  “I know what you mean. I feel the same way about Chantal.”

  “Yeah, she’s a really great girl, and an absolute beauty. Good job, Haf.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “If you say anything I swear I’ll make fucking shish kebab meat out of you.”

  “No man, it’s cool.”

  “I think she’s the one, Music Man.”

  “Wow, really?”

  “Dead fucking serious.”

  “And you just met.”

  “From the moment I saw her, you know the day with the kid.”

  “The day we brought Hamid in with his arm injury?”

  “Yeah.”

  Max looked at his buddy and couldn’t help thinking that this colossus of a man with the tender heart deserved all the bliss in the world. He was happy for him. And he wanted to be as happy—with Sam. “That’s great news, Haf. And don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

  They arrived at the CSH and parked in front of the tents where Sam and Chantal worked. They jumped out of the jeep and went to find the girls. One of the staff directed them to the right ward. As they walked in Hamid ran up to them. Colin grabbed the boy, picked him up and lifted him high above his head as if he were a mere feather.

  “Hello Colossus, hello Max.”

  “Hello Hamid,” they both said.

  “How is your arm?” Colin asked.

  “It’s getting better,” Chantal said, as she came up behind the big man.

  Colin whirled around and put Hamid down. “That’s great news,” he answered, as shy as a school boy.

  “Hey Hamid,” Max said, patting him on the back. “You’re doing very well.” The boy stared blankly at Max, not understanding a word. Sam, who had been watching, came up and repeated Max’s phrase in Arabic. Hamid gave Max a huge smile. Max looked at Sam and his body went up a few degrees. His hands and back started to perspire. “Hi Sam,” he barely managed to say, “how are you?” Max had never, ever been at a loss for words when it came to women.

  “Pretty good, it’s a bit of a slow day,” Sam answered.

  “That’s always excellent.”

  “Mm, I agree.”

  “I have an idea. What are you and Colin up to?”

  “Not much. We have a few hours off. What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, since you have a jeep how about we go into Baghdad and deliver Hamid to his aunt.”

  Max jumped at the opportunity to spend some time with Sam. “Sounds great.” He turned to his buddy. “Hey, Haf, the four of us are going to Baghdad to drop Hamid off.”

  “Is Chantal coming?”

  “That would make it four, Colossus, now wouldn’t it?” Chantal said walking up behind the big man.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Chantal turned to Sam. “Road trip?”

  “Yeah, Hamid’s Aunt’s house.”

  “If you want to wait for us in the jeep we’ll be out in ten minutes. Just have to sign him out.”

  “Okay, Sam, we’ll be waiting,” Max said.

  “This is going better than I could have imagined,” Max said to Colin.

  “I’ll sit in the back with Chantal and Hamid and you can have Sam next to you in the front.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  The women walked out with Hamid and got into the jeep. Max was in the driver’s seat and Colin lifted Hamid and put him next to him in the back seat. Chantal joined him and Sam sat next to Max. He noticed her ring and tried not to the think of its meaning.

  They left the CSH compound and headed into Baghdad. It was only a few miles.

  “Hamid told me his Aunt’s house is very close to where you found him. Do you think you can get back there?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Max answered.

  Colin and Chantal were talking in the back as if they had known each other an entire lifetime.

  “The other day you said something about helping the wounded with music and that you wished you had that Spanish guitar. Can you tell me about it now?”

  “Oh, the power of the music. The most powerful weapon in the world.”

  “My mother says that!” Max exclaimed.

  “Smart Mom.”

  “That she is. So tell me, what is your version of this weapon?”

  “Well, scientists are finally proving, something that has been common knowledge since the beginning of time that the influence of music can help heal people. This is what I’ve been doing with some of the wounded that come through the CSH, especially the ones with PTSD or TBI.”

  “TBI?”

  “Traumatic Brain Injury. The brain is amazing. It is still so mysterious and we know just a little of what it does, but what I do know for sure is that somewhere in there it recognizes music, not words. It’s easier to remember notes that form a melody.”

  “And the sounds are much prettier than the spoken word.”

  “Right. Words are more complicated. They have sounds as well but it’s too precise, not
to mention that there so many languages and dialects that no two sounds are the same. But in music you have seven sounds and they are always the same, now there’s the universal language everyone should be speaking.”

  “Would make communicating between nations a lot easier.”

  “Exactly. And as far as I know no one has ever gone to war over music.”

  “Hey, instead of dropping bombs from the sky we should drop notes.”

  “Wouldn’t that be interesting? Here take a C or an F, or as they say in other countries a Do or a Fa.”

  “And if there’s a whole bunch of them it would be a song when they hit the target.” Max was enjoying himself and found talking to Sam easy and pleasant. And of course the subject was dear to his heart.

  “You see, Max, the brain can understand or remember a tune. This in turn helps the injured person with communicating when nothing else can. For example, the other day I had a guy come in with a piece of shrapnel imbedded in his brain from an IED.”

  “That’s fucked up.”

  “Yes, and he couldn’t speak any more. The poor man was perfectly healthy otherwise. I started to sing to him.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was able to hum back to me. I sang him a lullaby that he knew.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing.”

  “It is, and I know that I could help even more if I had a guitar. There’s just something about it that somehow pushes a so called button in the brain. I think maybe because it’s a musical instrument that everyone knows.”

  “This is really fascinating, and I think you’re definitely onto something.”

  “I’m not the only one who sees this. There are more and more people studying these effects and getting great results, but it’s not out there enough. We need to push this more.”

  “Sign me up.”

  Sam smiled and Max thought his heart was slowly melting. “Consider yourself signed up.”