Living in the Pages, Page 4

  His voice was getting higher and higher as he got worked up.

  "Massey, I think you need to give him something. Calm him down before he gets us caught."

  "I was thinking that as well, Sir," I answered as I slid the harness from my waist and slid the pack from my good shoulder. I took out the morphine and a needle. Relief quieted him just a few minutes later, but it didn't stop his tears.

  "Do you know his name, Sir?" I asked.

  "How about we drop the formalities. Like you said, this isn't a mission."

  I nodded.

  "No. I don't know his name. I know yours though. You're related to General Edward Massey, aren't you."

  "Yes Sir. He's my grandfather. Seventeen Masseys have walked the Gray Line."

  "That's quite a tradition."

  "I would say more of a requirement than a tradition."

  "You have siblings in the service?"

  "No Sir. I am the last."

  "I have two girls. Frankly, I'm glad neither was interested in following my footsteps. I can't think about my girls seeing the things I've seen. They aren't children. They are grown women, twenty and twenty-three, but they are still my little girls and if some fucker with a missile launcher did this to one of my girls..."

  I nodded.

  "How are you holding up? You didn't sleep earlier. It can't be easy towing this along, especially with your injuries."

  "Right now I am okay. I think we should keep moving while I still have strength. We don't have much food or water. If we are out here for a week or longer, I'm not sure what will happen."

  "We'll make it, Massey."

  "Yes, Sir. You have two girls to get home to," I said as I pulled the pack back onto my shoulder and the harness across my body. It should have been up across my chest, but the cracked ribs would not allow that so it was at my abs and waist. Getting moving was hard.

  And evidently, a bit jerky.

  The other man was mumbling softly about Kyle's blood. I couldn't help but wonder who Kyle had been. It seemed to me like it was some sort of raid that went badly and Kyle was not supposed to have been there. It hurt my heart to hear his grief.

  "You got a wife at home, Massey?" Colonel Richardson asked.

  I started to laugh. It was such a random question considering where my thoughts were. "No Sir, no wife."

  "Girlfriend?"

  Girlfriend. Hmm.

  "Come on, it's bad enough I have to sit here, at least make conversation. Humor me."

  "There is someone, I only just connected with her before I had to leave, so I don't think she thinks of me as a boyfriend, but I would very much like the chance to make her my girlfriend. I wasn't looking for a girlfriend. I still have a long commitment ahead of me before I can make that kind of life. I just can't get her out of my head."

  "Well, if she's the one treat her right. My first wife was the one. But I was a self-centered, immature jerk. I came home from my tours and I drank too much. I did whatever the hell I wanted. I made her life too hard. She was raising our girls alone for the most part. Then one day, that occurred to her. If she was going to raise the kids alone she didn't need my drunk ass making her life harder and she packed my bags. I was too full of myself when it happened to try to change things. But I still regret losing her. I will always regret losing her. However, I don't regret losing my second wife. She was crazy."

  "I still hope to go to Medical School when this is done. If. I don't think any girl would..."

  "What? Wait for you to finish? There are a lot of things in life that you can put off for a more convenient time. Love is not one of them. Life is short and it takes unexpected turns. Don't blow it. Did you promise her you'd come back?"

  "Yes, sort of. We sort of made a date."

  "You are one of three who has a chance to keep his word. That's got to mean something."

  "It's got to," I agreed. It had to mean something. I had a dream. I found a magic book. I lived through an ambush. It had to mean something. Didn't it?

  And that night I lay on the ground thinking.

  Amber thought her father was here.

  Colonel Richardson had two daughters who were college aged.

  It had to mean something. It couldn't all be a coincidence.

  I really needed to make him like me or there was no way he was going to approve of my dating his daughter.

  Was she his daughter?

  I sat up and looked out into the night. It was still a few hours before dawn. There were only a few stars as the moon swelled closer to full. I was worried about the brightness of it casting our shadows, but it was beautiful. Amber wouldn't see it for hours yet.

  I closed my eyes and I could picture her, the way she looked in the dream when she slid her hand over mine. I took out the journal and I wrote.

  'Amber? Are you there?'

  'Of course I'm here. I told you, I carry this notebook everywhere! How are you? Are you in pain? Are you still out there alone? I mean, not alone, but no one has come to find you yet?'

  'We are still alone. We traveled for a long time today, but we didn't get as far as I would have liked. I'm okay, mainly tired and hungry. I think I have too much anxiety to sleep. I lay down, but I worry about the others and every noise just seems threatening. The sound of the locusts is driving me mad. But that's enough about me. How are you? I hate to think that you are stressed out because of me, this. I feel so bad and yet, I don't know how to explain this really, but I miss you when I don't get to write. That's weird, right?'

  'No. No, it's not weird at all. At least, it's not weird to me. I don't want you to feel bad, Harris. If your words never appeared, I would still be this nervous because of my dad. At least when you write, I know someone is still alive. How are the others?'

  'Well, one is evidently feeling like himself. He's a high ranking officer, he's used to giving orders. He is clearly not used to having to rest. I put 150 stitches in his side and he was trying to order me to let him walk. I think we've come to an understanding. Living is the most important thing, more important than his pride. The other man, well, it's hard to say. He has head trauma, so sometimes he's awake, but he doesn't seem to be aware of what's happening. Can we talk about something else? Can you tell me something about yourself? Something normal, like your favorite song or book.’

  'Something normal! That's funny. That's a funny way to say it I guess. My favorite book when I was little was The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle. It was so colorful! He ate so much food! And in the end he was a beautiful butterfly. I loved it so much. I wish I still had it. I don't think I have read a book for enjoyment in the past four years. I love school, but when I am not in class, I just don't want to think about books.'

  'I feel that way about chin-ups.'

  'Ha! Good one! That's hilarious! I guess you won't be doing any chin-ups for a good while, not with a broken collarbone.'

  'Guess not. That's a perk! Probably not a great one, I'm not sure it's a good trade off. When I was small, my mother used to read me Goodnight Moon. I think the author's name was Brown. I didn't like it because when the book came out that meant I had to go to bed. But now I have nostalgic memories. I also went through a phase where I only wanted to read books about fish.'

  'Fish? Why fish? Did you like going fishing?'

  'No, we didn't live near water. I don't know, fish just seemed amazing to me at the time. I wish I could be near some water right now. Not a beach, though. I think I've seen plenty of sand. Someone needs to install a few dozen water fountains along this road.'

  'You're funny, Harris. I like that you still have a sense of humor. I think maybe you're trying to keep the conversation light for me, but it makes me happy that you can still have thoughts like that with all you're going through. I'm so proud of you.'

  'Amber, are you real? Am I just dreaming all of this?'

  'You're not dreaming. I pro
mise you. And you still have a lunch date to keep so you be careful.'

  'I live for that day. I really do. I need to rest for a while I will write again later.'

  And I wasn't kidding. I really did live for that day. I really believed I was alive because I made her a promise in the magic journal. I had to live. I would do whatever it took to keep that promise.

  13. Hendrix:

  The next days were exactly the same.

  So much so that it really just seemed to be one excruciating, continuous day, and I couldn't really even say for certain if it had just been a day, two days or a week.

  We traveled by night and hid during the hottest part of the afternoons. The Colonel and I split the watch, and I should have slept while he was awake, but I couldn't. Instead I found myself sitting beside the other man, listening to his stories.

  “Stillborn. She never told me everything. He was not supposed to be born for three weeks. I would have been home in time. I would have been home. I was coming home, Andi. I would have asked for leave if I had known. Why didn't you tell me? Why?

  She named him Johnathan. He never breathed. My son. I didn't even get to see him. The loss broke Andi. It had to be that. She wasn't there when the plane landed. Where is my wife? Where is she? Police. No. No! It's not right! It's not fair. She never had seizures before. Did she ever have seizures? She never told me. She hit a tree, they said. Where's the baby? Where is she? She was in the hospital. She was so small in the bed. Three weeks took my wife and son. What do I do now? A soldier is all I know how to be. Why did they all have to die? Andi...”

  He mumbled her name over and over. I gave him drugs; they eased the injuries, but clearly not his pain.

  And then suddenly he was looking at me. Actually looking at me.

  "Can you see me?" I asked.

  He blinked.

  "Can you tell me your name?"

  He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He'd been speaking for days, but when he was asked to speak, his damaged mind refused to give him words.

  "You're injured. I am trying to get you back to the camp. Try not to move. I am going to give you water."

  He drank and I broke off bits of a protein bar and fed them to him, but he closed his eyes without saying a conscious word. The things he kept locked away were inadvertently shared, but who he was still remained a mystery.

  Moving that night was the hardest thing I have ever done. The pain was taking over my body. My back was hurting from the pressure of the harness and the sheer weight I was towing. There was not enough food to restore my energy and there seemed to be less and less of me every hour.

  It did not help that I didn't have a clear indication that we were going the right way or how far we needed to go.

  Fear of failure upheld me. It was all I had to work with.

  That, and my wish to meet Amber.

  When I finally sat to rest, I took out the journal.

  Words were already waiting for me. I didn't know when she wrote them. It took me a long time to read them too; my eyes just didn't want to focus on the letters.

  I was losing track of time. Maybe I was sleeping. My body was awake, but my brain seemed to be shutting down.

  I drank some water. It wasn't enough.

  I pulled the pen out of the book binding and held it in my fist for a minute while my brain decoded how to hold it properly to write.

  This was not good.

  I could not let her know that I was struggling.

  'I'm here, Amber.' I started. It was hard to keep the words on the lines.

  'Thank God, Harris! I was getting really worried. You didn't write at all last night and I've been watching all day. Are you okay? Your words look shaky.'

  'I guess my hands are stiff from moving the others. I'm holding up okay.'

  'Are you just saying that so I won't worry?'

  'Maybe. I'm tired. My shoulder hurts. I have to get the others to safety. I have to. I'm doing my best. I'm just so tired.'

  'I know you're doing your best, Baby. I know that. Can't you just lie down and sleep for a couple of hours? I wish there was something I could do.'

  'You're already doing it. You give me the will to go on. I'm afraid to sleep. As much as I want to lie down and dream of you, I'm afraid I won't get back up.'

  'Tell me something about yourself, Harris. What's your favorite food? No, what do you order at that deli? Tell me what you would order if you were sitting there with me.'

  'Lemonade. I would drink so much lemonade. And the breakfast club. Not the movie. It's a sandwich they serve all day. It has eggs and bacon, tomato and avocado. I think there's cheese. It's warm and delicious, but when you are talking to me, I don't even taste it, because you're there. You're with me.'

  'I'll be there with you. I want to be there, Harris. I need you to rest and find the strength to keep going. We can have the breakfast club, even if it's not morning.'

  'Do you have favorite food?' I was getting sloppy. It was getting harder to write. I was also slumping toward my side.

  'I am a breakfast person too. I like eggs and pancakes. And bacon. I mean, who doesn't like bacon? I like chocolate. I really like chocolate. I like pineapple. I don't know. It's hard to say what my favorite food is when I am on the spot. An hour from now it will probably hit me and then I'll be like, I totally should have said that, but now I can't seem to think of anything.'

  'An hour, write it. Ok?'

  'Okay. I wish we could just write every minute, Harris. I know I should let you to get some sleep and recover a little, but I am always afraid that whatever I write will be my last words and I don't want that. I especially don't want my last word to be about food when every day I think about you and I think you must be amazing.'

  'If last words I saw were ham and cheese on whole wheat, my last breath would be happy. I’d laugh. It would be a joke only we knew. Us. You, me. It would be a relationship. I never had that. I like to hear the regular things, dream girl.'

  'I just fell in love with ham and cheese on whole wheat.'

  'I love you too. I have to stop now.'

  14. Kyra:

  His words appeared and it took a few minutes for them to really soak in.

  Was it really possible for two people who'd never met to be in love?

  I'd never been in love. People were complicated. That's probably the reason I studied plants.

  But I did love him. I wanted him to live so we could have that date.

  It seemed crazy that my days went on just like usual. It seemed impossible that his world could be so hard, so dangerous while mine remained unaffected. And yet my life was touched by his, we intersected in a way that was not even feasible. I couldn't have even imagined such a thing.

  But maybe it had to be this way, maybe the only way I was ever going to believe in love or commit to love, was with a miracle.

  Harris.

  I just wish I knew his real name.

  15. Hendrix:

  "How are you doing, Massey? You're not looking too good, Son."

  The honest truth was that I was not doing well at all. My head was swimming. My eyes were having a hard time focusing and my body was just plugging along of its own volition because I wasn't capable of giving it commands.

  I think I must have been standing there just staring at him blankly.

  "It's been a good number of days now. I need to stand up and walk a bit. My legs are starting to ache. We can take it slowly. Only towing half the load will be better for you."

  And this is when I knew that I was not myself, because my real self would have argued with him. This pseudo Hendrix just nodded dumbly. It was like in the movie A Christmas Story when the mall Santa told Ralphie he wanted a nice football.

  "He didn't want a football," I muttered.

  "What?"

  "Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."

 
The Colonel stood and stretched a little, but not too much because I was watching and he most likely thought I was looking for any signs of pain. Though I was not even sure I would recognize the signs if I saw them.

  We walked slowly.

  We were walking as equals for the moment and this was my chance to try to gauge whether or not he liked me. I wracked my brain to find something we could talk about that did not involve being a soldier or the fact that I might be interested in his daughter.

  Was she his daughter? Which daughter was she?

  I was wasting my chance.

  "So Ed Massey was your Grandfather, what about you father?"

  "His name is Ryan Massey. He was a pilot, and he flew supplies into the field."

  "I see. Who are you named after? You don't get a name like Hendrix without having a story."

  "No, Sir, you don't. Jake Hendrix was my father's best friend. He dove on a grenade. Saved a bunch of lives. Everyone called him Hendrix, no one ever called him Jake, so that's what my father named me."

  "Tradition and heroes."

  "A long line of losses along the way."

  "Well, you're a pretty damned good surgeon, Massey. You're going to be useless for a good while with that shoulder all fucked up. I can get you moved into medical to serve out your time. If you have to fill your commitment, it should be where you have the skills. There are never enough doctors."