A Battle Raging (21 page)

The light from the living room was the only illumination in the small room. But he didn't need any light to see. He curved around the night stand to find the edge of his bed. The bed was small in measure, not meant for "guests", just him.

He
reluctantly but gently pulled from her grasp so that he could slide her off his lap onto the bed. He began removing his clothes and she did the same.

Soon they were both on the bed with him
lying astride her. The strength of his arms allowed this and he could tell from her expression in the half lit room that this surprised her. He didn't explain but leaned in for a kiss, recovering the solace she'd given him in the other room. He felt her hands wandering down his back to his buttocks. Just a whisper of a touch, yet he felt it. Loved that she knew how to touch him, wished that she could touch him forever.

Just as before, her hand wander
ed to his shaft, caressing it into an erection. His body responded to her touch, to her fingers holding him. It was so natural and he could wish that he had known her before everything, before all of this. Would love to have been able to maneuver their sex in a way that any able-bodied man could. But looking into the glint of her eyes, he knew it didn't matter to her one way or another. She wanted him and for right now that was enough.

Maya
eased him inside of her and shifted her hips upward against his in a rhythmic motion, wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to move in and out. When his first physical therapist had told him that he still had the capacity to enjoy sex, Zach had been sure the man was wrong. And his subsequent sexual fiascos with his former girlfriend Alicia had seemed to bear out his gloomy self-prophecy. But no longer could he doubt.

Maya moaned and just the sound of her pleasure increased the rising
surge of his own. He leaned in to capture her lips again, tasted just a tinge of wine on her tongue, hungered to taste more and deepened the kiss, swallowed her breath. It sustained him.

She ran a finger lightly along the rim of his ear, setting off another wave of pleasure. She knew his zones, knew how to get him off. Knew to touch his left nipple, pluck it between her fingers. Tease it. Another surge.

Her fingers moved around his upper torso, his ass, teased, caressed him even as she took control of their rhythm, grabbing her own enjoyment from him. He loved that about her.

Love.

It'd snuck up on him. Began its insidious track into his heart that first day. So surprised at how beautiful his teacher was. Hadn't known how to act, what to say to her.

Couldn't believe she was here beneath him
now, loving him with her body, expelling the ugliness of that day, of his life.

Trying to breathe something new in him.

Still, he felt himself moving to a denouement, a finalization of their short but sweet love story, something he'd never even hoped for himself, that had surprised him.

He felt the desperation in her motions, squeezing him inside her, forcing his pleasure to move throughout him…even to his lifeless legs that for the moment felt as though they blazed.

She pushed into him on an orgasmic wave, crying out in the darkness of his room, making him come against all odds, against his own gloomy predictions about his shortcomings.

He collapsed on her then shifted
his upper body to allow her to breathe. He felt her arms and legs wrap tighten around him, keeping him in her luxurious prison.

A better prison than he deserved.

"Maya, I have to make this right," he said breathlessly in the half darkness, more to himself than to her.

"How?" she asked softly.

"I have to let them know…what I did…"

She shifted now, releasing him to rest her upper body on her elbow as she looked down
at his face. Her body was still pressed up against his.

"Who?"
she asked.

"There's a chain of command I have to go up…and around. My unit…they lied for me, protected me.
I'm going to try to keep them out of it, if I can. Any way it goes, it's going to be a mess, but there's no way I can live with this. I just can't sit on this."

"No, you can't," she agreed. "And in this case, the
truth will set you free. At least it will set you on the road to freedom. And…his family deserves to know."

"It's going to be nothing but shit from here on end. I don't expect you to stay around for it. And I'll understand," he said with finality.

The ensuing silence pierced his heart. But he had offered her her freedom so he couldn't turn around and blame her when she took it.

The arm came around him and she nuzzled her face in the crook of his
neck.

He
felt her breath against his skin as she said, "I'm not going anywhere. Besides, you still owe me an assignment. Otherwise I'll have to flunk you."

A tear trailed to his pillow as he smiled
in the dark and as his arm tightened around her.

It was the
last ten minutes of the last day of class and everybody was showing their projects. Everyone had chosen their own object to sketch and then had to tell the class why they'd chosen that particular subject to draw. Because she had allowed them extra minutes to comment on their work, they were running over time. Not that she cared. She wanted them all to have their chance. And everybody save one had turned up for this last class.

Zach wasn't there –
not that he'd said he would. And she hadn't wanted to press him on it. Not with everything that was going on. He'd contacted the brass last week and informed them about what had really happened on his mission. He'd told her there was an official inquiry started and that he and all of the Marines who'd been there that day would be questioned before a judicial panel, even though he'd tried to cover for them. Much as they had done for him. Beyond that, he wouldn't say much more. She expected that it couldn't be easy to "rat out" the men who had protected him. There were going to be repercussions down the line for years to come.

Right now
Mary had just finished up her presentation. As always, the woman's hair was just a little windblown (although there was no wind today) and her lipstick just a bit smudged. She took her sketch back to her easel.

"
What a wonderful representation of your grandmother's cameo, Mary. I especially liked how you brought out the minute details with your shading. Now, last up is Bob Borneo. It's show and tell time, Bob. Let's see what you have for us today."

Bob detached the sheet from its easel and walked it to the front of the class.
He held it up for the rest of the class to see.

The personal object
Bob had chosen was an unusual one. The sketch depicted a plain carburetor. That he'd lugged the car part to class to draw was something. For all its plainness, Bob had drawn it to perfection on the canvas. She couldn't wait for him to tell why he'd chosen this particular subject.

"I know…
" he began, "…not very artsy. But this is something very personal to me. You see this is the carburetor from my father's 1955 Chevy Bel Air. It was the last car he bought and the only one he ever let me work on. I remember us tuning this carburetor on late summer nights here in Seattle. I don't know why this carburetor always stumped us. I didn't really get it going until after he died. I let that car sit for years. But after today, I'm determined to drive that car like my father used to do. So, teach, I hope you find it acceptable for my final project."

Maya nodded.

"I like the lines and shading. You really got the technical down and you've imbued it with something more. And knowing the story behind it, it's a fine choice for your final project."

Bob was on his way back to his seat when she heard another voice from the door.

"Is it too late to present my final project?" Zach asked as he wheeled in and made his way down the aisle of easels to where his easel stood empty. In his lap he held a folded up sheet, the same size as the sheet hanging on an easel.

She shook her head. "No, it's not too late. We haven't wrapped up
quite yet, Mr…I mean, Zach."

Her heart skipped just a little. He looked…good. And not just his usual handsome self. There was something else about him. Something…freer. No
strain, no stress, no shadows of anger, as there had been that first day so many weeks ago.

He bypassed his easel to wheel around to face the class. He sat there for a second holding the folded sheet, looking as though he was at a loss for what to say.
Then he cleared his throat.

"Before I show you my final project
, I have to apologize first for missing so many classes. For not taking the class as seriously as I needed to. You see, this wasn't just a hobby or anything like that. This was a required part of my therapy. I'm…a former Marine…and I suffer from what's known as post traumatic stress disorder. Which means that much of my life after the service has been rather shitty psychologically. And this…the wheelchair…is because of being shot in the back by an insurgent who caught me by surprise. I was told…by my psychiatrist…who's no longer with us…that part of my problem is that I had these demons that I wasn't facing. And he was right. I was hiding from something that I was afraid to face. He thought that I should confront those demons, and draw them. And this class was supposed to help me do that. But I was an ass…and I resisted both my psychiatrist and May…Ms. Temple here. And so, a lot has happened since that first of class. And last night, I finally decided to face my demons or rather one particular demon…and put it down on paper. So, here it is."

He slowly unfolded the sheet in his lap and held it up.

"This here is the demon that I had to face. To me, for a long time, he was something hideous, something that needed to be hidden away, stashed deep inside me. Only now am I'm able to face him."

There were murmurs of confusion and Maya craned her neck to look at the drawing.

It was a portrait. Or rather a self-portrait. The drawing was a close up of Zach featuring his torso and face. He wore a military jacket and helmet and in his hand was some sort of automatic gun. Something fierce and intimidating.

"I know it's not exactly a still life,
as required, but this is what I needed to draw, the thing that has scared me so much over the years. The demon deep within. Me. With the power of life and death in my hands…the power to take someone's life. I don't think I've ever come to terms with that and for good reason which I can't go into here. But I hope Ms. Temple will consider this picture suitable for my final project."

Maya felt a catch in her throat and fought back tears.

"Yes, Zach, this is more than suitable. I think…I hope…the class agrees."

More murmuring…and one or two claps.

"So, class, I want to thank you for a wonderful term. You've all improved so much and I'm so proud of each and every one of you. So, that wraps up Introduction to Still Life Study. And I hope you've gotten something lasting out of it. Maybe I'll even see you in some follow-up classes. Thank you everybody."

The class, including Zach
, applauded and Maya felt a glow of accomplishment. Something warm and good. She let at least one tear drop before wiping it away.

Most of the students started filing out of the studio, except Zach. And Bob Borneo.

The older man seemed to signal to his partner, Jess, with a nod, then said something to him. The man left the class as Bob walked slowly toward the front.

Maya thought that maybe he wanted to tell her something either about the class or maybe
ask about taking a future class.

But instead, the man stopped in front of Zach and pointed to the drawing, still unfolded and laying in Zach's lap.

"That's my demon, man. Right there. Different face. Decades apart. But the same, man. The same. I heard what happened to you on the news, what happened at your doctor's office. Just wanted you to know that you're not the only one. I have that PTSD shit too. Have for years now. And that demon right there man…in that picture…is the one that I've been facing for forty years. Remembering…it's hard. There's just so much…" He broke off, shaking his head, and if possible, looking even more grizzled as though he'd aged by a decade in those few minutes.

"Yeah," Zach said
.

"'Nam, man.
'Nam," Bob uttered softly, sadly.

Maya looked at her student with renewed interest. It hadn't occur
red to her that he was military, too.

With those words, nothing else needed to be said between
him and Zach. Bob turned and walked off, his shoulders hunched. But then he seemed to straighten up as he walked through the door, as though steeling himself for the world outside.

It seemed that
more than one demon had been exorcised that day. And more would have to be faced in the days to come. Days she would look forward to and in some respect dread. This was a whole new avenue for her. But new avenues were rife with possibilities. And that was a good thing.