Bayview Heights Trilogy (23 page)

But it felt good, too. A lot of things did
these days. As he scanned the room, he looked carefully at each
student, no longer threatened by the fact that he cared about them.
He watched Johnny writing in his journal. Some of them he’d come to
care about more than others.

Cassie joined them.

Cassie.

He had to consciously quell his physical
reaction to her. It was class time, he told himself. He couldn’t
afford to remember what her nimble hands had done to his back a
week ago, or what her feminine curves had felt like sprawled across
him on his couch. Memories of that night had all but ruined his
skiing trip with Kurt. Mitch grinned as he recalled his brother’s
teasing.
Man, I beat you down the slope four times. Where are
you?
For most of the four days, Mitch had been back on that
couch with Cassie. Only his commitment to Kurt had kept him from
returning early.

As it was, he hadn’t been able to see her
since he’d gotten back—he’d had an engagement Wednesday with the
police department and she’d been busy last night. But they had a
date tonight.

The classes, too, had gone easier than he’d
expected. The kids were curious during the discussion of the book,
but respectful of his feelings and didn’t push.

They’d asked how real the book was....

“Other than the lack of swearing, the book is
very real. Especially its emphasis on the bugs, the heat and the
wetness.”

Fascinated, the kids listened intently when
he’d told them about the snakes. “There were thirty-two varieties
in Nam. Thirty were poisonous, especially the two-steppers.”

“Two-steppers?” they’d asked.

“Yeah. If one bit you, you only got to take
two steps before you keeled over and died.”

“Hey, man,” Youngblood had yelled. “Think we
can plant one in Bosco’s room?”

“Okay, everyone, let’s put the journals away
and get out
Fallen Angels
.”

Mitch picked up the book.

“Today we’re going to read a really gruesome
part of the story. Anybody who thinks they can’t handle it can go
into Ms. Caufield’s room, skip these few pages and read ahead.”

Of course, no one volunteered to leave.
Though she was serious about excusing them, her caveat was the best
way to keep them glued to their seats.

“Open to page one sixty-eight.” They did, and
Cassie began to read aloud. She got through two pages before Mitch
started to sweat. This couldn’t be...how could anyone know...he
breathed in and closed his eyes. He could block out the printed
words but not Cassie’s voice as she read the account of a child
who, when an American soldier had picked him up, had exploded in
the man’s arms. The boy had been mined by his brainwashed
mother.

Bile rose in Mitch’s throat. He hadn’t
realized he’d moaned until he noted the silence. When he opened his
eyes, Cassie knelt before him. “Mitch, are you okay?”

He stared at her.

“You look sick. You’re sweating badly.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t.
Twelve pairs of eyes were on him. He took several shallow breaths
to calm himself.

He had to get out of here. Of all the
atrocities he’d experience in Nam, this was the worst. What she’d
just read aloud...

“Mitch, is it the story?” She hesitated when
he covered his face with his hands. “Look,” she said to the class,
“I’m going to take Captain Lansing out in the hall. You can read by
yourselves. Johnny, go get—”

“No.” Mitch’s sharply uttered word stopped
Cassie and any action that had begun in the room. “No!”

“But Mitch, you’re obviously upset.”

He looked up at her, then at the kids. His
vision blurred a bit when it landed on Som. The Vietnamese girl.
He’d seen those eyes...those eyes had...

“I--” He stuttered out the words. “I saw
this.”

No one moved.

Finally, Cassie clutched his arm. “I’m so
sorry.”

And then it tumbled out. A story he’d never
told anyone, not Kurt, not the counselors, no one.

“I’d been in Nam a year when some new staff
was hired at the hooch. They were all South Vietnamese. The
government thought it good PR to let the natives we were defending
make some money off us.” He looked at Som again. “There was a young
boy there; he was fourteen, quiet, unassuming, like all of
them.

“One day, I came back to my bunk and saw him
looking at a radio Kurt had sent me. I’d left it on my bed,
stupidly, because everything got stolen over there. Anyway, Tam...”
Mitch stumbled over the name he hadn’t spoken in twenty-seven
years. “That was his name, Tam. He was smiling. I’d never seen the
kid smile. I thought of Kurt—and me—and the TVs we had in our
rooms, the stereos we took for granted. I gave Tam the radio.
Slowly, he began to talk to me. He was orphaned, his immediate
family wiped out by a raid on his village. He lived with his
uncle.” Mitch looked around the room, his eyes landing on Johnny.
“He was so bright, like you Johnny. And he had the same dream of
becoming a doctor. After several months of talking to him, I began
to think I could help him. My father was a doctor, Kurt wanted to
be a doctor and had the road paved for him. Why couldn’t Tam?”

Mitch drew in a deep breath. “I began to make
some inquiries about how I could get the boy back to the States. My
parents would be able to sponsor him, would be able to help.
Apparently, I was overheard—I think it was a phone call I’d made to
the embassy. Anyway, it got back to his village—his uncle, we later
found out, was anti-American. He hated us, as a lot of Vietnamese
civilians did.”

Mitch looked down at the book, feeling his
throat closing up. He couldn’t finish—yet he had to. Now that he’d
started, he had to get it out. “One beautiful sunny morning, on
Tam’s day off, I went into the village with the good news. I’d
found a way to get Tam home. I decided not to wait until I was
discharged, because it looked like the war was ending and I thought
I’d have a better chance of getting him out while we were still
there. As it turned out, I was right. The U.S. pulled out five
months later and no natives were able to get out of Nam for a long
time.”

Cassie asked, “What happened to Tam?”

Mitch’s vision blurred. “I’d told him I’d be
there in the morning. They knew...they knew what I’d come for. He
was standing by a hut. I remember wondering why he seemed so sad.
When he looked up and saw me, he started to run in the opposite
direction. I didn’t know why then. He got about ten feet when...”
Unable to get the words out, Mitch drew in a deep breath. “He...he
blew up...right before my eyes. His little body flew all over in
pieces.” Mitch buried his face in his hands. “In pieces,” he heard
himself sob out.

He felt Cassie’s strong hands on his
shoulder, squeezing him. After a long time, he opened his eyes. He
saw her eyes brimming with tears. The oddness of that registered
somewhere in his muddled brain. Then he looked beyond her. All the
kids had gotten up and formed a half circle around him. Not one was
dry-eyed. Mitch was the first to speak. “I haven’t been honest with
you guys,” he said. “I didn’t want to work with you because you
reminded me of him.” His gaze rested on the teary eyes of Som, then
on the bright eyes of Johnny. “Especially a few of you.”

They stared back.

“And, about me saving those five men. It
wasn’t bravery. It wasn’t heroism. Truthfully, I didn’t care if I
died.”

More aware now, he heard Nikki sobbing. “I’m
not saying that to upset you. But it’s what happens, Nikki. It’s
what I was trying to tell you. I went crazy after I saw what they
did to Tam. Four soldiers had to hold me down—I was going for my
gun, I wanted to shoot whoever had done this to that child.
Eventually they had to sedate me. But I found a way to cope with
it.”

No one asked him how.

He raised his chin. “I shut down. I didn’t
let anyone in. Unlike your dads, Johnny, Nikki, I was more
successful—I could do it most of the time.”

“Until you started working with us,” Johnny
stated.

Mitch smiled at Johnny’s insight. “Yeah, you
guys have a way of breaking down walls.” He rubbed the moisture
from his cheeks and took in a deep breath. A few of the boys turned
away, self- consciously hiding their reactions. Some of the
females—including Cassie—were still crying. Huge fat tears were
coursing down her cheeks.

Mitch became aware of a commotion in the
hall. Class had ended. Cassie noticed it, too, because she stood
and went to her desk. She returned with tissues; by then some of
the kids had circled closer.

Som leaned over and hugged him. He closed his
eyes, willing himself not to cry more. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she
said before she backed away.

In turns each of the kids made contact—a
grave look, a thank you, a squeeze on the arm. Johnny’s face was
haggard. He came up on his knees and hugged Mitch, too. Over the
boy’s shoulder, Mitch saw Cassie openly sobbing.

Nikki was the last one. After a meaningful
hug, she said, “Thanks, Captain, for telling us this.” She drew
back and smiled at him. “You got us now, you know, even though you
don’t have Tam anymore.”

Mitch’s throat felt tight. He couldn’t
respond, but squeezed her hand before she left.

The room was mercifully still when the kids
were gone. Mitch was dimly aware that this must be one of the days
when the tenth-graders went to gym. Drained, he let out a sigh and
looked at Cassie on the other side of the room.

Her face tear-stained, she managed to say,
“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

She held up
Fallen Angels
. “This was
a bad idea.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.
I’ve never told anyone that story. I needed to get it out.”

“Maybe.”

“And—you know—I didn’t even realize until
today, that at the time I saved those men, I didn’t care whether I
lived or died.”

Cassie just stared at him. “What can I
do?”

He stood and stretched. “Nothing. I’ll find a
way to cope. Maybe I’ll go back to the counselor.”

“You’re still coming over tonight, aren’t
you?”

“No. I’ll be worse tonight.”

Her eyes filled again. “Please, Mitch, come
over tonight.”

He shook his head.

Her chin jutted out. “I won’t take no for an
answer.”

Crossing to her, he touched the wetness on
her cheek. “I’ve never seen you cry. How long has it been?”

“More than twenty years.”

Gently, he brushed his thumb over her mouth.
“I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll wait for you tonight, Mitch.”

“Don’t. I’m not coming.”

The last vision he had was of her standing in
the middle of her room, her face tilted up, her cheeks wet, saying,
“I’ll wait.”

o0o

AT FIVE O’CLOCK that afternoon, Cassie was no
longer crying—but she was still upset. She’d raced right home after
school, hoping Mitch would come over early. To busy herself, she
cooked. She put together homemade chicken soup, baked bread from
dough she’d had frozen and made chocolate chip cookies—all food to
soothe the soul. When that was done, she built a fire and
alternately prowled in front of it or snuggled in an afghan on the
couch.

At six-thirty, when the doorbell rang, she
flew to it.

Seth Taylor stood on the porch. Behind him a
blanket of snow covered her lawn and sidewalk, and big fat flakes
filtered down from the sky. “Hi. Can I come in?”

She nodded and struggled to keep her
disappointment at bay.

“It’s nasty out there,” he said, shaking the
snow off his boots and shrugging out of his coat. “A real winter
storm.”

“Oh.” Cassie led him into the living
room.

“I heard what happened today,” he said, when
they were settled on the couch. “Are you all right?”

“Who told you?”

“The kids were buzzing about it. And Zoe came
to see me after she’d talked to you. She’s worried, but she’d
already made plans to leave town for the weekend.”

Cassie gave him a weak grin. “You’re both
good friends.”

Reaching out, Seth squeezed her arm. “Big
news, that Ms. Smith cried. Even when you were a kid, I never once
saw the tears.”

“His story was awful, Seth.”

“I bet it was. I know a lot of veterans.
Since my lottery number was high, I wasn’t drafted. But some of my
friends were.”

Cassie stared out the ice-encrusted window.
“I’m so worried about him. We had a date, but he said he wasn’t
coming.”

Seth angled his head. “A date? I suspected
something was going on between you two.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say he was very protective of
you.”

“I wonder where he is.”

“Have you tried to reach him?”

She nodded. “I called his house twice. You
think I should try again?”

“Yeah.”

At her principal’s urging, Cassie telephoned
Mitch’s home. No answer. Next she called the police station. Hal
Stonehouse said Mitch had left work about four. He’d seemed
unusually quiet today, Hal told her. Was anything wrong?

Finally, she called Kurt. She sipped the
coffee Seth had retrieved from the kitchen as she waited for
Mitch’s brother to come on the line.

“Lansing.”

“Kurt, this is Cassie Smith. We’ve never met,
but I’m a friend of your brother’s.”

“Yes, Cassie. I’ve...heard your name.” There
was amusement in his voice, before awareness dawned. “Has something
happened to Mitch?”

“No, no, I don’t mean to alarm you. I was
looking for him...” She stumbled when she started to tell him what
had happened in class. Her eyes stung. Somehow she got out a brief
version.

“I haven’t seen him. But I’ll make a few
calls and get back to you.” He took her number and hung up.

Cassie turned to find Seth donning his coat.
“I’m going to drive around town and look for Mitch. I’ve got a
commitment at eight with my son, but I’ll call or stop back.”