When I caught the young man’s gaze, I motioned toward her with a nod of my head. “Is she going to be okay?”
“We’re doing all we can, sir,” the medic reassured me.
I exhaled painfully, looking up at the roof of the chopper only to find Kevin’s big mug hovering over me like a concerned parent. A scruffy, balding, endearing, pit bull of a concerned parent.
“Was,” I gasped, “afraid you wouldn’t find us.”
“Saw your smoke signals,” he grinned. As I felt the welcome sting of another injection, my eyes instinctively closed. The forceful blast of cool wind washed over my body, even after they lay the medical blanket over me. The medication coursed through my veins and I began to relax, to drift away, no longer caring if I lived or died. Only—. I turned back towards Henry, his face contorted with emotion as the despair of the past year spewed out in tears and painful wailing. He dropped his head to his wife’s chest, weeping, her arms listless and limp by her side.
My eyes stayed on her. I was unable to hide the wetness and hurt evident in their depths. “Please, no—God,” I breathed out, the whisper disappearing into the wash of the blades. “Please don’t take her, Lord.” I had no reason to believe he even heard me, much less cared that I was calling out to him now—after everything. And, yet, I pleaded anyway. Please, don’t take her, Lord. Please—don’t…
Chapter Fifty-Two
I awoke groggily, weak and momentarily disoriented, but breathing with less effort—albeit with a little more pain. The smells of my sterile, sanitary surroundings grew acrid in my mouth. Slowly, I opened my eyes and searched. It would be nice if I were in a hospital stateside, but more than likely, I was in a hospital room at Bagram Airfield. A sleeping soldier snored softly in the other bed of our shared room. My weary eyes continued scanning before landing on the unkempt, unshaven body slumped in the chair by my bed. I tried to move, and in doing so, provoked an uncomfortable, gnarly sounding cough. The lump beside me moved, slowly opening his eyes.
“Hey, Cap.”
My hand found the bed remote, and I attempted to elevate my head slightly. “What time is it?”
“Eighteen hundred, sir. You’ve been out of it since yesterday.”
My mouth felt like cotton—dry and annoying. “Abraham?”
“Doc says he’ll be fine. He’s sore as hell, but he’ll be okay,” Mikey shook his head. “If it weren’t for the vest…”
Our eyes locked on one another and I exhaled painfully. If it weren’t for the vest….
“He keeps asking about you.”
I nodded, further attempting to clear my throat. My heart began to race as I tried to get up the strength to say the words. “Mary Beth?”
Mikey exhaled nervously, exacerbating my fear. “It was touch and go, but it looks like she’s as hard to kill as you are.” He smiled. “She hasn’t woken up yet, but Doc said when she does, she’ll be fine, too.”
I averted my stare, hoping he couldn’t see what I was feeling. Relief coursed through my body with each pulse of my heart. Suddenly, my relief turned to sadness as I remembered Mullah Akhssed’s son lying there in the snow. If he didn’t already know, the mullah soon would, that his eldest son was dead. However, it would be some time before he knew the truth: that Rafi died protecting Mary Beth. Not to mention that his youngest son was also injured while helping me. My soul ached for the small, kindly man and his family; my heart broke for them. I turned to Mikey, but before I could say anything the nurse walked in.
My friend, and subordinate, stood and stepped away from me, wringing his cap nervously in his hands.
“You’re back,” the RN quipped. She checked my vitals, occasionally glancing my way. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.”
The aging Army nurse chuckled. She leaned over me, pulled back my blanket, lifted up my hospital gown and checked the gunshot wounds—ignoring the multiple abrasions, lacerations, and burns scattered over my body. I raised my arm to oblige, spying new dressings taped across a sizeable multicolored bruise high on my side.
“A fraction of an inch lower and it would have collapsed the lung,” she informed me. “You don’t know how lucky you are, soldier.”
After a quick glance at Mikey, I nodded. “Yeah,” I exhaled dramatically. “I really do.” I winced as she pressed closer to the entrance wound before focusing on the point where the bullet exited my body. An inch lower and—. I was lucky, all right. I’ve known men with lesser wounds that bled out. When a bullet cuts through the human body, it crushes, displaces, and destroys whatever is in its way. It will rip bone and muscles and organs, and any other tissue it encounters, until it meets enough resistance to stop. Or—as in my case—doesn’t. I turned to the nurse. “When can I get out of here?”
“I’d tell you to relax and give yourself time to heal, but you being a soldier, I know it wouldn’t be soon enough.” Her hand glided along my arm and then she patted my hand with a wink. “I’ll tell the doctor you’re up, Sweetie.” And with that, she was gone.
I turned to Mikey, and he shrugged awkwardly. A moment later he sighed and scratched his head. “I’d better go, Sir.” He nodded towards the doorway. “Let you get some rest.”
I scoffed.
He grinned slyly. “Yeah, well. At least pretend, okay. Make ‘em think they are doing their job.” Mikey smiled, added a mischievous wink, then turned and walked out the door.
And then, I found myself alone. Again. Twiddling my thumbs. Second guessing things. I glanced at the monitor that regulated my IV and gritted my teeth, contemplating. A moment later I slowly moved to the side of my bed, tentatively swinging my legs over the edge as I considered what I was about to do. This time, there was no Abraham to prop me up. If I went down, that’s likely where they would find me when they returned. I used the side rail to balance, while I slowly stood. There was no shakiness, no sweating, and most importantly, no falling; as had been the result last time I attempted something I knew better than to do. I grabbed the pole to which I was leashed to and walked with it in tow to the open doorway.
My room was located at the end of a long hallway, well away from the nurse’s station that I spied at the other end of the corridor. A door creaked as it opened to the room beside mine. So, I leaned back, trying to be inconspicuous. Sheepishly, I peered out. I saw Henry step into the hallway, take off his glasses and rub his eyes. My nurse followed him out, slowly stepping away from the room.
“I think you should try and get a little rest. There’s an empty room right around the corner by the nurse’s station that you can use. Maybe get some sleep.” She patted his arm. “You’re not doing yourself, or her, any favors sitting here worrying. She needs you healthy when she wakes up.”
Henry rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and then scratched his unshaven face. His beard was shorter since we’d first met, trimmed to a rough scruff. His itch caused me to scratch my own. They didn’t see me spying on them, as they turned and walked the other direction, away from me. I stepped into the white-walled hallway and immediately felt the cold on my backside. I retreated back into my room and reappeared moments later clad in the green boxers and Army t-shirt I borrowed from the sleeping soldier’s tiny closet—one sleeve draped uselessly over my arm with the IV drip.
I gingerly walked on the cold linoleum floor to the room next to mine and quietly opened the door, peering in. And there she was, looking perfect and peaceful. I stepped inside dragging my temporary life support with me and closed the door. My heart beat faster with each step as I drew near. The sun shone through the window, highlighting her dark brows and curls. Quit! I kept telling myself. Stop looking at her that way!
Two days. Mikey said it had been two days. From the moment I handed her to him, I knew Henry had stayed by her side. Watching over her. Praying over her, too, I suppose. I, had also prayed, on the chopper. Begging for her to live. And, she had. Now, I stood over her—watching her. Measuring every breath. Wishing I could reach
out and touch her. Only—I could never touch her again. Mary Beth looked like she was merely sleeping nestled in the clean white hospital sheets. There wasn’t a scratch on her that anyone could see.
I leaned over as I pulled up the chair beside me, sitting so close that I could hear her soft breaths. I thought of all the things I should have said, the things I still wanted to say. Only it was too late. Tentatively, instinctively, innocently, I lay my hand on the bed beside her. And then, against all better judgment, my fingers crept towards hers, encompassing them before I finally felt her soft skin against mine. With my eyes on the door, I took her hand, a finger at first, and then two. Soon I held her whole hand in mine, caressing it. I looked up at her. She was so beautiful that it hurt.
My rough, scarred hands traced every crease in hers, memorizing every flaw, every freckle of her delicate features. And as I gently caressed her hand, I suddenly felt her squeeze lightly in return. I looked up just as the nurse entered to check her vitals.
“She squeezed my hand,” I exclaimed.
“That’s just an involuntary reflex, sweetie,” she smiled down at me.
“No, she took my hand,” I insisted.
“Her fever’s gone,” she added calmly, dismissing my excitement. “So, that’s a plus.”
Mary Beth stirred. The surprised nurse reached over and shook her ever so slightly. “Honey?”
Slowly Mary Beth opened her amazing eyes.
The sweet nurse grinned. “Hey, Sleepy-head.”
Mary Beth looked around, disoriented. “Where am I?”
“The base hospital,” I answered, releasing her hand.
“I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake,” our nurse added, heading for the door.
Mary Beth rubbed her eyes.
“Can I have just a couple of minutes first, please?”
The nurse looked at me, confused, and then nodded sweetly before closing the door behind her.
Mary Beth rubbed her face. “How long have I been here?”
“Two days.”
She narrowed her eyes, looking pensive. Thoughtful. “I don’t remember—,” she began, then quickly looked up to me. Her hand instinctively went to her throat, and she rubbed as though reliving the pain. She suddenly looked up at me. “Rafi?”
Slowly, I shook my head.
I watched as a tear slid down her cheek. Her hand slipped from mine as she wiped it away, staring at the wall.
“Abraham?”
I sat on the bed, putting my hand on hers again. “Abraham’s fine. A little banged up, but it’ll make for a helluva story when he gets back. I know he’ll be so excited that you are awake.” I forced a smile. “And Teddy, among others,” I breathed out.
Mary Beth glanced past me at the twin monitors and down at my arm before meeting my gaze again. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Thanks to your incredible nursing skills.”
She closed her eyes groggily.
“And, of course, your wonderful bedside manner.”
Mary Beth grinned faintly.
I exhaled, refusing to show the overwhelming emotions that filled my heart. “I just stopped by to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” Slowly, her eyes opened, again.
“They are releasing me today,” I—exaggerated. “Then I’m shipping out. Seems the Army is done with me here,” I flat-out lied.
Mary Beth looked at me, confused before looking away, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. I could see the hurt in her eyes. “So,” she blew out her question, her voice shaky, though she tried not to sound hurt. “Where are they sending you?”
“I’m not sure yet. Home—and then they’ll probably send me to some God-forsaken place.”
“Drop you off by helicopter?” she joked.
“Yeah, with my luck,” I chuckled, then winced and coughed, looking away, unable to face her.
“Well, that’s good. Right?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, averting her stare.
“So, what’s next for Eddie Roark?” She asked, attempting to sound brave.
“I’m sure I’ll be debriefed, and assessed, and reviewed, and whatever else the Army does in this situation.” I somehow couldn’t face her, as I dug myself deeper and deeper.
Sensing that something wasn’t quite right, she persisted. “Eddie?”
I owed her the truth, only when I faced her, I couldn’t say it. “I’m sure a proctologist will be involved.” I continued. Deflection. When I turned to her, I forced a smile.
Mary Beth furrowed her brow, trying to read my response, I’m sure.
“I get the feeling there’s something you aren’t telling me.”
I kissed her hand, grinning bigger. “Of course not, Miss Glass-half-empty.” I’m going to hell!
Mary Beth managed a satisfied smile.
I was grateful that she was too medicated to comprehend what I was, and wasn’t, saying, and how I was saying it. Or rather, more trusting than I deserved. Either way, she stopped prying.
“Hey, I left something for everyone with Mullah Akhssed. I was hoping you would make sure Denice and Abraham get theirs?”
“Did you leave something for me?”
“Of course, I did,” I grinned. “You’re my nurse. You saved my life.”
“Oh, please. You’re too mean to die,” Mary Beth said weakly.
“You’re probably right,” I looked down, wringing my hands.
“Is there something you’re not telling me? Am I dying or something?”
“Oh, please.” I teased. “You’re too mean to die.”
That beautiful smile on her face grew at the corner of her lips then she reached for my hand. “Eddie, I—,” she began.
“Shhh,” I said, brushing back her hair. “You need to get some rest.” I bent over her, confident that her nurse had alerted Henry and he’d be racing in at any moment.
“But—,” she began.
I leaned over and kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger there a moment longer than I should have. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I whispered against her skin in an attempt to change the subject.” “I promise.”
I felt her nod against my neck. And as I slowly stepped back, I looked in her eyes one last time, memorizing them again. Memorizing everything about her.
And then, I did one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life.
I walked away.
Epilogue
The snow melted early, and the pass was soon bustling again with traffic to and from the mountain villages. The Taliban started their spring campaign early, minus a few men and vehicles that were lost in some insignificant battle that no government on any side would admit to, or really cared about.
Abraham had spent only three days in the hospital, mainly because, until Teddy arrived, no one knew what to do with him. I had to convince the nurses that if they didn’t release him to Teddy and Henry, that he’d be lost in the system somewhere. So, they made a few calls, bent a few rules and let him stay. I even got him moved to a room next to Mary Beth’s.
It was as hard to tell him goodbye the second time as the first, especially when he made me promise to come back one day. I thought about him every day—more often than I thought about Zahra’s Kabuli Palau rice and her mantu dumplings, or about smoking the hookah with Mullah Akhssed. Even more often than I thought of the wild eyes of his young son which had once given me pause, until I watched him become a man, standing up against his own countrymen for what was right.
More often than I thought of the roll of toilet paper that I bequeathed to Denice or the expression that she would have worn when Mullah Akhssed gave it to her. Or the chess set that I had handcrafted for Abraham every day until I left, wondering if it meant as much to him as he did to me. More often than I thought of Henry’s face when he thought he’d lost his wife, or when he knew he’d found her again. Or the mud walls that many of us had built together, and how just a few drops of vaccine broke others down.
&nb
sp; It took my falling out of a helicopter to find that sometimes it’s the simplest of things in life that break down the greatest barriers between countries—between faiths. Between peoples.
My life was forever changed in that little mountain village in Afghanistan. By the people, by the kindness of strangers, by the heart of a missionary. And it can only be found in my final gift to her—one that couldn’t begin to describe how much she meant to me. The purest tribute, scratched out on a plain sheet of folded paper, thanking her for her many gifts to me. Just seven letters. Versed in unmistakable colloquy.
No words…
The End
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