Time of Gifting

by Taki Drake

  Jarvis rushed back to Naomi with her camera and another small bag. When the young soldier insisted on helping, Naomi had him start to the back and find her the pouch of extra chips that she always carried. Pulling one of them out, he handed it to the woman who had opened her camera in the meantime. Quickly, Naomi copied the loaded chip onto the other and ejected the copy.

  Jarvis happily carried the copy chip over to the Corporal and then carried the camera and small bag back into Naomi’s pouch.

  Once again, the murmur of conversation among the eavesdropping audience went on and on. Every once in a while, Mary would hear a derisive or nasty-sounding comment in the general discussion background. The constant sniping sound was ratcheting up her anger again, and she began deep breathing to calm down.

  Returning to his earlier line of questioning, Corporal Simmons asked, “I believe I understand what you found, but what does not make sense to me is how did the dead body and the injured Afghani get back here.”

  Looking at him blankly, Mary responded, dumbfoundingly, “We brought them here, of course. We thought it would be too difficult to carry them because they outweigh most of us individually, and we were already pretty bruised and injured from the explosion. But Pam pointed out that we could probably use the motorcycles, and it turned out that she knew how to ride one, and so did Connie.”

  Connie chimed in again, saying, “I drove one of them, and we sat Jumal up behind me, tied to my waist. Naomi sort of perched against his back, so he did not fall down and pull me off the bike. Pam drove the other one, and we put Haji’s body facedown across the passenger seat. Since he could not feel the discomfort, we piled the weapons and other things on top of him and tied everything down. Mary walked because she was being macho and insisted it was not very far.”

  There were sounds of muffled laughter from their audience, and Mary blushed slightly, remembering how adamant she had been.

  Corporal Simmons started to ask additional questions when the team he had sent to investigate the bus returned. They informed him that the bus had clearly been hit with some sort of explosion and that there was no sign of matching damage embedded in the road above. This seemed to indicate something significant to the Corporal, who asked them several other low-toned questions that none of the women could hear.

  He seemed unhappy with their responses and sent them off with further orders to explore other approaches and report back. The NCO fired off quiet commands to two other soldiers, and Mary watched as they headed off with Pam to inspect where the women had concealed the weapons and motorcycles.

  Chapter 18 – No Simple Out

  Turning his attention back to Mary, Corporal Simmons said, “I just need to get this straight because I am having a lot of trouble wrapping my head around this. You are on a bus that blew up and ended up rolling down the hill and smashing against many different things. Your driver was severely injured, and so was one of the women in your group. All of you sustained damage.

  “One of the people in your group is a sharpshooter-ranked self-proclaimed gun nut and identified specific models that were firing, even though the rest of you only noticed some strange noises. When everything settled down, you triaged your injured, extracted everyone from the explosion site, and began to set up a camp.

  “Then, you set off on a scouting trip with a single pistol and fended off a bird with a ten-foot wings spread. You took forensic pictures of a battle site, searched two dead bloody bodies, and brought their belongings and other distinctive items with you. After which, you grabbed two foreign-made motorcycles and used them to transport your injured escort, as well as the body of the dead one, and all of the weapons you had found.”

  Looking at her almost piteously, Corporal Simmons plaintively asked, “Is that an accurate summary?”

  Looking at him and feeling totally unsympathetic at this point of the day, Mary reminded him, “You forgot establishing a campsite, building two shelters, scavenging items off the bus, and taking care of our wounded.”

  The nervous laugh erupted from the NCO’s mouth, and a susurration of wonder erupted from the avid audience. Once again, Mary’s fragile hold on her emotions fractured, and she flashed into a rage, demanding, “That is materially correct. What is offensive is the fact that to you, this is unbelievable. No, we did not leave the dead body of our comrade, of the person who had been watching and caring for us for weeks out there for the vultures to pick his eyes out. Yes, we did what we could to survive. No, we did not abandon the young man that had possibly died trying to protect us.

  “How could you believe that we would do anything less than what we did? Where did you think the principles of your service came from? Do you think they sprang full forged out of weapons or drill instructors? I tell you now, no! They did not.

  “These tenets come from your mothers and fathers. You drink them with the milk of your infancy and are surrounded by them as you grow up. These are the principles that make us who we are, and the thought that middle-aged or old, female or male, we would do anything less is an insult to us, our culture, and our beliefs.”

  Mary stopped breathing harshly and waited in complete silence. Eventually, Corporal Simmons answered tentatively, “Ma’am, I apologize if I sounded incredulous. I did not mean to insult you or the rest of the ladies in your group. I hope you will forgive me. None of us mean to offend you, and I hope you understand that.”

  Wordlessly, Connie and Geri had come to their feet and moved to stand behind either side of Mary, their hands resting on their friend’s shoulders. Spastically, Mary nodded in acknowledgment but did not say anything.

  Carefully, Peter Simmons said, “I think the best thing we can do right now, ma’am, is to call for medevac. We need to get you out of the area, and we are not really set up to handle civilians, especially those that are injured. We can expect a helicopter to pick you up sometime in the next few hours, so you just have to hang on a little while longer. They will have better medics and facilities for dealing with injuries than we do.”

  Mary thanked him and watched while he moved over to where one of the other men had set up their radio. Turning to the rest of her group with a sigh, she said, “Well, we will need to get organized to leave, but let’s wait until we know the schedule and how much we can take with us.”

  Talking quietly among themselves, her friends didn’t notice that Mary did not seem to be as relieved as they were. Her intuition told her that they were not going to be able to take the easy way out. Although the trip had started out so smoothly, her intuition kept telling her that something would go wrong, and it had.

  Evidently, the difficulties were not at an end since Corporal Simmons came back to them with an annoyed look on his face. Following standard procedure, he had radioed for medevac. Instead of the usual 2-3 hours that they expected for response time, he found out that a combination of the growing conflict in the West and an encroaching weather front with high winds meant that getting the women out of the area by helicopter was not going to be an option in the near future.

  Adapting his approach with impressive speed, the Corporal then deployed his men to establish a perimeter of sorts and set up watches. He refused with courtesy and respect the offers by several women to help with the sentry duty. This was undermined to some degree by a snort of disgust from the man whose appearance so reminded Mary of Matthew.

  The Corporal also radioed his platoon commander to report the situation. After some discussion on the defensibility of the camp chosen by Naomi, the decision was made to maintain their location until the rest of the platoon could join them.

  The rest of the unit had arrived soon after Corporal Simmons had explained the situation to his platoon Sergeant. It seemed to the bemused women that they were surrounded by an army, even though Geri had only counted forty-one men. They just take up so much space, Mary thought to herself.

  Mary wasn’t sure whether it was the guns or the uniforms, perhaps even the laser focus of their actions that seem to suck up all the availab
le space and air around them. The familiar sense of power and purpose brought tears to her eyes, reminding her of both her husband and son. Then her coping mechanism kicked in, and she began to organize.

  Lieutenant Hampton was the platoon commander. He was a studious-looking man of average height with a quiet self-assurance that comforted all the women. The man spent some time talking to Mary both by himself and with the platoon Sergeant in attendance.

  Mary had gone into more detail with him than she had with the Corporal, explaining that their trip was organized around a therapy group comprised of new widows and bereaved people. The overall group was much larger, but this tour had been arranged for those who liked textiles and the techniques applied to fiber arts. They were at the end of their second week of a three-week trip, which had gone very well up to this point.

  Platoon Sergeant Brown had taken over the group examining the bus. He told Mary that the bus had been sabotaged. An explosive device had been stuck to its bottom and was probably designed to kill them all.

  Mary was aghast and felt the chill of danger wash over her shoulders. When she told the two men that the only time their bus had been unattended was when they overnighted in the village, Lieutenant Hampton promised to pass that information on to his commander.

  From her son’s remembered discussions with his father, Mary knew how important it was to have centers of resistance and covert attack identified. She was just sad that the rage and need to lash out had been so strong in someone that they carried out an attack on a group of helpless women.

  The women heard the Lieutenant instruct his communications person to get a status on the possible medevac. Mary knew that it was prompted by his concern over Jean’s condition and Connie’s cuts. The man appeared to be distressed over the rough conditions they found themselves in and made every attempt to make things easier.

  The officer’s attitude was slightly different toward Abdul and Jumal. Although he was courteous, the man did not express the same level of concern that he showed to the American group. This bothered Mary at some level, one which she was not eager to explore.

  The group leader knew that she was not the only one who picked up Lieutenant Hampton’s bias when Geri had quietly informed her that she, Patty, and Pam would make sure that all of their invalids would be watched by them in shifts. The stress on the word “all” reassured Mary.

  While she was sitting there, the Corporal who handled the communications for the platoon reported to Lieutenant Hampton that there was no change in the medevac timing. The platoon could not continue with their assigned patrol and projected return to base until the women could be moved out of the area. And that transport had to wait until a helicopter was made available.

  The Lieutenant looked at the platoon Sergeant and shrugged his shoulders. In response, the grizzled noncom said in a quiet voice, “Sir, that puts us very short of supplies. I do not think we have any choice but to put everyone, including the civilians, on scant rations.”

  The two men walked off, discussing different options, so Mary stood up and headed back to the rest of her group. It certainly seemed to her as if they would be staying in their temporary camp for the next day or so.

  As the head of her group, Mary knew that it was her job to update them as she found things out. The woman dreaded having to tell them that they were going to have to stay one more day in the dirt and primitive conditions. It was just one more day of feeling at a loss, unable to get comfortable or make any plans. In this situation, they were at the mercy of others who had many priorities, none of which included an accidental group of newer members.

  Mary’s friends took it better than she had thought they would. Nobody had a major meltdown. No one had hysterics. In fact, Pam and Patty offered to help with food preparation. Promising to make their offer known to the soldiers, Mary found her knitting bag and began to calm herself down with her craft’s familiar motion and cadence.

  Quietly sitting in the sun, back against a convenient rock, Mary knitted and listened to the conversations and noises around her. She heard several of the soldiers complaining about having to be away from their base for Christmas Eve.

  Oh, dear Lord! she thought, Tomorrow is Christmas Eve Day!

  In all the excitement, Mary had lost track of the days. By now, their tour leader would realize that the small group that had gone off on the textile side trip was late. She wondered what the company was doing about finding them and thought about the scheduled celebration and Christmas Eve meal that they would miss.

  Something needed to be done! Mary thought to herself.

  Chapter 19 – Christmas Eve

  Christmas Eve day dawned sunny and a bit chilly. The women had spent several hours clustered together in their original campsite the previous evening discussing their situation and feelings. The soldiers had seemed just as happy not to have to interact with the women any more than necessary.

  The seven friends were just pleased to have a calmer day than the literally explosive previous one had been. Using the techniques they had learned in the grief support group, the women talked about their feelings and reactions in a loose circle that included the invalids in the tent and their attendant.

  The talks were not just a rehashing of the horrific explosion and its aftermath. Mary had reminded them of the date, and the women were just as determined as she to do something for the platoon since their absence from base camp for the usual holiday meal was because the women could not be left without support.

  Different options were discussed, and eventually, they came to an agreement. The tasks that needed to be completed for their plan kept all of them focused and busy. Mary laughed to herself, thinking that it was another coping mechanism replayed. Just as the women had avoided falling apart by setting up the camp, they were now using the tasks designed to create Christmas for the soldiers to prevent any depression or sadness from overwhelming them.

  There was some intermingling between the two groups, although it was minimal. The women had been invited to share the supplies the soldiers had. When Mary had tried to demur, the Lieutenant had said firmly, “None of us are going to be comfortable if we are eating and you are not. Please allow us to do this minor thing for you.”

  The group leader had recognized that tone and knew that any argument she could bring up would be shut down, so she agreed gracefully. Going back to the rest of her group, Mary had sighed dramatically and told them that the officer was intent on them sharing in the troops’ food supplies. When Patty and Pam raised the expected protests, Mary had closed down the discussion, saying flatly, “This is for their comfort, not ours.”

  Resigned to meals that were far worse than anything they would have done, the women made a point of going through the chow line and thanking the cooks politely. They sat down as a group and a part of their meal, transferring the remainder of it to carry back to their own campfire.

  Mary always made it a point of carrying back a serving for whichever of the women was watching their invalids. As she was waiting for the serving to be put in one of the plates they had purchased during their shopping spree at the spice market, the group leader heard Patty and Pam complementing the two young cooks on something in their meal that had been done well.

  The group leader was aware of a flush of pride in her friend that she would take the time to educate with praise instead of criticizing and condemning. I wonder how these two young men would react if they knew that the person critiquing their meal is a Michelin-rated chef? she thought to herself.

  After the meal, they returned to their camp area to continue preparing for the Christmas surprise. Patty would take portions of their leftover meals and either incorporate them in some of the things they were trying to make for the celebration or put them together in a tasty soup. At first, the chef had been worried about the lack of stock, but Naomi volunteered a surprising talent.

  Blushing hotly in gratified embarrassment, the longtime Girl Scout leader offered, “I taught the badge that awarded Woo
dland Hunter skills, which included snares. I set some and check in a while to see if we get anything that we can use for stock.”

  When Mary could fight past her astonishment to talk, she managed to choke out, “That would be wonderful. I am sure that Patty can do something with any animal that you catch that is not poisonous.”

  When the snares proved successful, they had two desert hares to use for a soup base. Naomi moved slightly out of their camp to skin and clean them, returning with the butchered meat, but only one hide. The look of surprise was so plainly displayed on her face that Mary immediately asked, “What happened?”

  The former Girl Scout leader said in a slightly stunned voice, “I got caught by the young man patrolling that area. Instead of protesting or running to tell his Sergeant, he asked me shyly if he could have the guts and entrails that I had removed. Of course, I said yes, but I wonder why he wanted them. He seemed so happy that I cannot imagine what he is going to do with them.”

  Mary shrugged the comment off and made sure that the people cooking got the prepped meat before shooing Naomi over to their latrine and wash area. The woman was busy scrubbing off as Patty happily skewered the hare pieces with sticks and seared them in the fire before adding the browned meat to the pot of hot water and spices she had waiting. The contented chef was humming while she worked, which brought a smile to Mary’s face.

  The group leader knew how conflicted Patty had felt about cooking and realized this trip would help her friend move past the block grief had placed in her creativity. Feeling the weight of someone else’s gaze, Mary looked up to meet the brimming eyes of Patty’s twin, Pam. When the woman mouthed, “Thank you!” Mary was conscious of a flush of accomplishment.

  The women had stayed pretty close to their own fire, trying to minimize any disruption of the soldiers' routines. Sometimes Mary just sat and watched as the men switched duties or gathered in clusters for mysterious consultations. They all seem to keep themselves busy with activities, but their actions were very different from the tempo around the women’s fire.