The Music Trilogy

by Kahn, Denise

  Max looked at her. “Why didn’t you call him Snowstorm or Snowball?”

  “Because he’s beige.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “And he is the handsomest cat you’ve ever seen, cuddly and loves me unconditionally.”

  I can be that cat, Max wanted to say. “Sounds like perfection.”

  “He is.”

  Max was easy to talk to and she hadn’t had a ‘real’ conversation in a long time. Talking to the wounded was for their benefit and she loved it, but it was nice to talk about herself for a change. She told him more about her parents and her background, her travels around the world, her love of music and the Singing Pub.

  Max realized how much in common they had. And he was sure his parents would like her too.

  “I would love to go to that pub, it sounds like a great place.”

  “It is. It’s a lot of fun, and sometimes you wouldn’t believe the amazing voices that come up on stage.”

  Max suddenly pictured her on that stage, his mother singing next to her as Sam, her daughter-in-law, played. Her daughter-in-law? How did that enter his mind? But Max didn’t ‘freak out’. It’s a sign, he thought, this is the woman I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. “I would love to watch you play there sometime.”

  “Well, when all this is over it’s a date.”

  A date? In how many years? “It’s a deal and a promise,” Max said quickly.

  “Let me put the guitar in my room, it’s too hot out here.”

  “Yeah, it’s not good for the wood.”

  Sam picked it up. As she did she heard a rattle. “That’s a strange noise,” she said. She shook it and again it made a slight noise. She turned the hole toward the ground and shook some more. Both Max and Sam jumped back when they saw what fell out of the hole and then he slammed his boot down hard.

  “You killed it!” Sam exclaimed, as she saw the dead scorpion.

  “Ah, yeah! Those little shits are dangerous.”

  “I know, but…”

  Max realized that Sam was upset. “What would you have done with it?” He asked.

  “I probably would have picked it up with something and thrown it far away.”

  “And have it sting somebody else?”

  “Well, no, I would have hoped he was scared enough and would go far away from the camp.”

  Max wanted to laugh but he didn’t. “And the scorpion has a brain too.”

  “Max, stop, the poor thing. I kind of feel bad for him.”

  “So I gather my knight in shining armor spiel didn’t work too well.”

  “Oh, my savior,” Sam said theatrically, putting a hand to her heart, “you pulled me away from certain death, and all with a slam of a combat boot and a Kevlar vest.”

  Max laughed and took her hands. He held her close to him. Sam couldn’t move, couldn’t pull away from what she was sure was an invisible magnet inside Max’s body. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I was just worried for you.” Max’s nose was almost touching Sam’s.

  “I know, I know, I’m just being a little girl,” she whispered with the tiny bit of air she could hardly produce.

  Max’s cheek brushed against hers. Sam held her breath. “No, your heart is just so gentle, never change that, it’s one of your greatest assets,” he whispered softly. Their lips came together, in a camp surrounded by desert and war, by wounded and misery, yet at that moment they were in paradise.

  “I’m just going to put the guitar away in my room. I’ll be right back,” Sam said.

  “May I join you?” Max asked.

  Sam looked into his violet eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, and took his hand. Max followed into her room.

  It was dark, with only a faint whisper of light coming in through the shades, but it was enough for him to see her sculpted perfection when he gently helped remove her shirt. His body wanted to take her right then and there, but his heart told him to take it slow. He wanted to savor every moment with her. Sam pulled off his t-shirt and her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the chiseled torso. The small mounds of the muscles in his chest, the even smaller ones of his stomach reminding her of symmetric ripples and beckoned her fingers. She lightly kneaded them until Max unhooked her brassiere and pulled her closer to him, crushing her exquisitely firm and full breasts. Her arms came up around his neck and he stared into the liquid jade of her eyes. He desperately wanted to swim in that tantalizing color. He made a mental note to find a wild and natural pool somewhere in the world so he could do just. His mouth came down on hers as he remembered the sweetness of that first kiss. He slightly parted her mouth and made his tongue dance with hers as he lightly let his fingers discover her back and hips. Sam was doing the same thing with her hands and they both pulled off the rest of each other’s clothes. Max picked her up, appreciating her superb figure, and gently laid her down on the bed. Sam caressed the back of his neck and continued down his back. Max closed his eyes, grasping for control as mini electric currents ran through their bodies. His mouth found hers again and then continued exploring by kissing, licking and nibbling down her neck, her breasts, her stomach and to the flower of her womanhood. Sam shivered as Max’s fingers and tongue played with her most sensual and sensitive areas. Her body took on a mind of its own and tightened and tensed from the pleasure and heat Max was making it produce. Little flames formed deliciously under her skin as her heart raced faster. She held his body closer to hers and sensed the fire he was experiencing as well. She arched up towards him and he swiftly and gently made them one single body. Sam gasped at the swiftness and the exquisite fullness of Max’s manhood. She moaned in delight as they rhythmically moved and kissed each other deeply until their passion culminated into their ultimate crescendo.

  A little later they left Sam’s room and sat on the steps right outside. They were careful not to hold hands or to show their feelings. Fraternizing among the ranks was very much frowned upon.

  “INCOMING!” Someone yelled as they all heard the whine of the mortar descending towards them. They ran for cover and Max threw himself over Sam protectively. She felt him slightly jerk up as the ground exploded a few feet away from them. Max then slumped back down on top of her. The sand from the blast covered them and Sam started coughing. Between the dust and Max’s weight she could hardly breathe. Why wasn’t he moving? She thought and then recoiled as she realized that Max might have been hit, or worse. She quickly pushed him off of her and checked him out. She didn’t see any blood anywhere except for a small gash on the back of his head. She didn’t think it was too bad, but Max was out cold. “Max! Max! Can you hear me?” No answer. She shook him a little. “Max!” she tried again.

  He started to stir. He looked around and remembered what had just happened. “Are you alright?” He asked quickly.

  “Am I alright? You’re the one who’s been hurt. You’ve got a gash on the back of your head.” Sam helped him to sit up.

  Max touched the back of his head. “No big deal, just a little cut,” he said, lying to Sam.

  “Let’s get inside so I can stitch it up,” she said, helping him.

  “You’re going to do it?”

  “You want someone else to do it?”

  “No, no, I want you. I mean, yes, that’s fine. No, what I mean is I don’t want anyone else to touch me and yes, I would like you to stitch me up.”

  Sam looked at him and smiled. “Okay, that’s clear now.”

  “Good. Did anyone else get hurt?”

  “Nothing serious, scrapes and cuts. Happens all the time.”

  “What happens all the time?”

  “These damned mortars. I don’t know how they do it, but they manage to get one through every once in a while.”

  “That’s not right. This is a hospital.”

  “This is war, Max. We’ve gotten used to it.”

  “Great,” he moaned.

  Max’s arm had been around Sam’s shoulder and when they arrived inside he didn’t want to take it off. “Uh, Max, y
ou can sit down now.”

  “Oh, right,” he said, and reluctantly let go.

  Sam found the supplies she needed to fix the cut and he watched as she efficiently prepared for the suturing. She washed her hands, went up to Max and started cleaning the area where he had been cut. Her body was close to his and her breast was practically in his face. He put his hands on his crotch as little Max had no conscious and wasn’t being very polite. He also closed his eyes. Watching her arms stretch the shirt back and forth wasn’t helping at all. He felt the pinch of the needle and winced at the unexpected pain, but he didn’t utter a word. After a few minutes Sam announced that she was finished.

  “How does it look?”

  “Looks good.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Are you asking if you are going to have a scar?” She asked.

  Max meant can you work on me some more? And any part of my anatomy would be fine. “Uh, yeah.”

  “If you do you’ll barely see it. I think I did a pretty good job. I’ve done a few of these before.”

  Max touched the gauze on his head. “It’s a work of art, like Spanish lace.”

  Sam laughed. “Por su puesto. But of course.”

  “Sam, I have to leave and I don’t know when I’ll be able to get back here.”

  “That’s alright.”

  “What do you mean?” Max asked, not understanding.

  “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

  Max thought he had been hit by a baseball bat. “But why? Do you think I want you for just your body?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t, so please explain.”

  “I don’t want you anywhere near me!”

  “But why? Did I hurt you when we made love?”

  “No, I want you out my life, and that’s final! And we didn’t make love, we had sex.”

  “That’s bullshit, Sam! I’ve never made love in my life.” Sam looked at him. “That’s right, today was my first time.”

  What was this man saying? Sam had never been so excited with any other man. Max was an artist in bed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’ve had my share of sex, and I won’t deny that I enjoyed it, but I never made love to a woman before.” He took her hands. “You did that, Sam, you showed me the perfection between a man and a woman and that could only happen if you love the other person.”

  “Oh, please Max, just stay away from me, stay out of my life.”

  Max was getting angry and frustrated. “Sam, what are you saying?”

  “Go away! And don’t come back.”

  Max had never been so upset in his life. It was also the first time a woman rejected him. He wanted to punch a few holes in the wall with his bare hands but he restrained himself with all the control he possessed. He took a couple of seconds to think and calm down. “I will abide by your wishes under one condition.”

  “And what, pray tell, would that be?” She answered harshly.

  “I just want the truth. I want to know why you don’t want me.”

  “Because I kill people.”

  Max stared at her, expecting just about anything, but certainly not that answer. “Are you telling me you’re a serial killer?”

  “No, Max, but everyone I ever cared about died.”

  Max smiled. “Does that mean you care about me?”

  Sam had tears in her eyes. “Yes, you son-of-a-bitch, I do.”

  “And what makes you think you are the one killing off these people?”

  “I’m a jinx.”

  “And did this start when you came to the Middle East? Do you think you are an al-Jinni?”

  “Damn it, Max, I’m serious, everyone dies—my parents, Robert, you almost got killed today…”

  “Sam, please! I got a little cut on my scalp. Do you really think you were the cause of that? Didn’t you say that those mortars creep in every once in a while?”

  “Max, I’m serious, get out.”

  “I will, Sam, but only because I have to go. I’ll be back.”

  “Please don’t.”

  ♫

  IRAQ

  CHAPTER 33

  Max was leading his team down the small, main street of the town. He didn’t like it. The streets were too narrow and the men were too close together. The town was supposed to be deserted, but none of the Marines believed it. Maybe it was a sixth sense, or maybe a smell. What they knew for sure was that someone was watching them. Max saw a dead dog in the middle of the street just ahead of them. Another victim for the annals. War was anathema to animals, and to zoophiles as well. He almost missed him, as he was the same color as the sand he lay on. And then, just inside the canine’s mouth, a thin wire. Colin, who was next to him, saw it at the same time they heard a click. They knew they would be dead in a split-second so the two buddies jumped toward the explosive at the same time, their only thought for the brothers they swore to protect. Max a few inches farther ahead as he was quicker and lighter, Colin just behind him. As they soared together toward certain death they saw their young lives flash through their minds in a nanosecond—their families, their lovers, their Marine brothers, the good times, and in Max’s case he even caught a glimpse of Colin’s rendition of Amazing Grace at Parris Island.

  The explosion lasted an instant and it propelled Max and Colin toward the sky. Blood, dirt, debris, M16’s and pieces of camouflage fatigues flew out and up from their bodies and from the ground below them. They landed hard a few feet away, broken marionettes in a cloud of brown and red dust. And then there was silence. For these two brothers of different color, of different faith, of different upbringing, of one same heart, there was only darkness.

  The ten Marines that Max and Colin had just saved shouted as they ran toward the limp figures, their yelling a reflection of their feelings.

  “MEDIC! GET A MEDIC!” Honey screamed.

  “They dead, they’re fucking dead!” Stapleton howled.

  “They saved our lives, oh, man they saved our fucking lives.”

  “Goddamned fucking heroes.”

  “Music Man, you can’t stop playing music, man!” Stapleton whined.

  The men reached the bodies.

  Debris still smoldered on Colin’s motionless, bloody torso. One of the men quickly brushed it off.

  Honey put his fingers to Max’s blood covered neck and face, dreading having to tell his Marine brothers that there was no pulse. Between the blood, dirt and shirt he wasn’t sure he was in the right spot. He wiped some of the grime away and tried again. And there it was, barely, but he found it. “I’ve got rhythm! I’ve got Music Man’s rhythm!” He blurted out in delight.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Another of the men asked.

  “His pulse, Music Man’s got a pulse!”

  “Haferty is alive as well!” Stapleton yelled.

  “How the fuck is that possible?”

  The medic arrived on the scene and answered: “Maybe because both of them went in together.”

  “What does that mean?

  “Look at their wounds. As they jumped they collided. This guy,” he said, pointing to Max, got the explosion in his upper leg, the big one, in the shoulder. If it had been just one man it would have been a full impact, but because these two went in together it probably bounced them out of the full blast just enough. It might just have saved their lives. Maybe they’ll survive. Now one of you help me.” All ten of the men were on their knees in an instant. “Just one of you will be fine,” he repeated, appreciating the brotherly affection and unity of this group. The medic bandaged Max’s leg, encased it in a splint and attached a white paper to his flak jacket: Blast to left leg. He did the same to Colin’s right shoulder.

  “There is a God, and today He didn’t want any part of these two beauties,” the Gunnery Sergeant said, “but we sure as hell do, so let’s get them to the CSH NOW! Move! Move!”

  “Yes, Sir, Gunnery Sergeant, yes, Sir!”

  �
�

  COMBAT SUPPORT HOSPITAL

  CHAPTER 34

  The hospital had been exceedingly busy. There were more casualties in the prior three months than since the beginning of the war, and it wasn’t letting up. The pace never slowed. The medical teams were always working, trying to save as many combatants as they could. And their percentage was amazing. They managed to save over ninety percent of the casualties coming through their doors. The wounded also owed their lives to the Air ambulance helicopters who would bring them in, sometimes just fifteen minutes after they were injured. Some remained only a few hours and would return back to their unit. Others, more severely wounded, stayed no longer than forty-eight hours. Once stable they were flown to the military hospital in Landstuhl, in Germany.

  Sam and Chantal were on call. They waited for the casualties to arrive. As soon as they heard the chop, chop, chop of the helicopter blades they rushed out with the dollies. Airmen lifted Max and Colin out and handed them over to the nurses. Sam and Chantal moved them quickly so that the steel bird could fly back out and get more casualties. They too were in and out of the CSH continuously.

  The two women did not expect the casualties to be the men they loved, and as professional as they were they gasped when they saw who they were, and lost their breath when they saw their injuries.

  “Max!” Sam cried.

  “Sam…” he stammered.

  “Damn you, Max del Valle, didn’t I tell you that I’m no good, that every person around me that I love dies! I told you, I told you to stay away from me!”

  “Not… dead… I’m alive… I live for you…” Max whispered as best he could through the blood streaming out of his mouth.

  “Oh, Max,” Sam said pushing him toward the operating room, “prove me wrong, Marine, prove me wrong, you son-of-a-bitch! Don’t you fucking die on me!”

  “Yes, Ma’am… whatever you say… And Sam…”

  “Yes, Max.”

  “I want that… piece… of shrapnel.”