Becca (26 page)

Dr. London smiled. “Yes,
I suppose you could put it that way.”

“What happens?”

“We’ll start with chemo
and see if we can piss it off again—as you say.”

“I’d rather kill it.”

“So would I, and frankly
I thought we had. We’ll start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I was going to
see Josh.”

“Well perhaps after the
treatment.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I won’t
start puking my insides out until after a couple of days of treatment.”

“Miss Smith, I
am
truly
sorry we’ve got to start over.”

“You? I’ve got a lot
going on, doc. I’m on the dean’s list at school, I’m in the drama club, I’ve
got my boyfriend back—and he needs me, doc. He really does. He just came back
from war, you know, and he’s all—he needs me. And you tell me now that I’ve got
this goddammed cancer back and I’ve got to set all that aside to take this
poison into me that kills the cancer and makes me feel like shit.”

“Honey,” Mary said,
consoling her daughter with a pat to her shoulder.

“Mom, I know it might not
be important to you, but Josh
needs
me.”

“I know you think he
does, but you’ve said he’ll be going to the VA—”

“What’re they going to
do? Just give him drugs and listen to him…but he needs more than that. He needs
me.”
She spoke to Dr. London now. “You’ve got to make it quick because I
want to be finished with everything as soon as I can so I can spend as much
time as I can with Josh.” She nodded emphatically.

Dr. London said, “We’ll
see if we can minimize the effects.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Becca
said, pointing her finger at him. “You know it’s going to screw me up.”

VII

“So,”
Becca said, “this is where it all began—I mean for us.”

Bert leaned back in the
chair. “Yeah…” He wasn’t smiling and his lack of emotion concerned Becca.

“So…um…Josh, this is what
you’re going to do with the rest of your life?”

“For now.”

She sighed heavily;
wanting to tell him of the latest developments but not sure if that would make
matters worse. She wondered also if he would even listen, or understand what it
meant. Would he even
care?
The cancer was breaking her spirit, but he
was breaking her heart. She sat down on the edge of the desk. “I talked to your
mom today and she said you’ve got an appointment with the VA next week. That’s
wonderful.”

Bert shrugged. “Yeah, I
suppose.”

“Well, make sure you tell
the doctors what you’re telling us.” She sighed. “Josh…there’s something I’ve
got to tell you.”

Bert merely shrugged and
said, “I’m sorry for—” He said suddenly, but didn’t finish. A car came into the
gas station and he went out to service it.

Becca remained on the
desk, watching Bert’s every move. He didn’t smile, didn’t talk, his shoulders
slumped. He was going through the motions. Everything she loved about him was
off kilter. The war had hurt him far more than physically. She dabbed at tears
that welled in her eyes as Bert walked back into the office.

“Still here?” he asked.

“Where else would I go?
It’s Saturday…no school.” She paused. “Josh—
Bertram
—I don’t
like
this.”
She desperately wanted to hold him and feel his arms around her. “Please, I
actually need a hug right now. You know? I need it
badly.
I don’t know
what’s going on inside that head of yours, but you’ve got to snap out of it,
okay? I
need
you.” She squeezed his hand and felt tears spill to her
cheek. When she wiped her eyes, she saw him staring at her. His hand came up to
wipe at her tears and he then looked at the moisture on his fingertips as if
not comprehending what he was seeing. “What’s
wrong?”

Now he looked at her
eyes—not her eyes but her tears and he took some more of them onto his
fingertips. “She…cried.” He shrugged and looked away. Then he looked back at Becca
as a car pulled into the station and stopped on the other side of the island.
“Have to…uh…got a customer.”

“
Wait a minute, Josh!”
Becca reached out to him, but he ignored her touch. “Who are you talking
about?”

When Bert came back
inside, Becca stood up and said, “What did you mean she cried?” She winced at
the pain that suddenly shot up her leg. Bert didn’t notice. “What did you mean?
Who cried?”

“What’re you talking
about?” He seemed genuinely puzzled.

“I’m not hearing things.
Josh...you’re beginning to worry me—no, you
have
been worrying me. Since
you got back. You don’t talk…you don’t…you don’t act like we’re anything. Now,
I remember you saying we weren’t anything—only that was a long time ago. But
we’re something now…right?”

“Yes, I guess we are.” He smiled weakly.

VIII

“Where’d he go?” Barb
asked.

Becca said, “I wish I knew. He just left.
His mom doesn’t know where he went. He told her he’d be back…” She fought the
tears, but lost the fight. Barb took her in her arms. “And
this,”
she
said, “
thing
is after me again.” She made a fist and hit her leg.

IX

“He’s
in a VA hospital,” Carol said.

“Oh
my
God!”
Becca shouted into the phone. “What happened?”

“I got a call from the VA
hospital in Atlanta. He’s been there the past week. He’s…well he was found
sleeping in the bus station and when the police asked him to leave, he flipped
out. Started screaming about killing somebody.”

“Oh…
no!”
Becca paused, stifling her sobs. “
Did
he?”

“No, honey, he didn’t.
The police held him for a while but couldn’t get anything out of him, and
couldn’t connect him to any crime, so they turned him over to the VA when they
found out he was a veteran.”

“How is he? Is he coming
home?”

“He’s being evaluated.”

“Hah. Evaluated. For
what? For how long? I want him
home.
” She said quietly. “I need him,
Carol. Right
now.”

“What’s
wrong, honey? Oh…don’t tell me—your cancer?”

“It’s kicking my ass,
Carol—sorry. But I’m not going down without a fight.”

X

“They’re keeping him for
a while,” Carol said.

“They didn’t say how long?”

“No. He’s had
some…episodes…”

“What the hell is an
episode?”

“How are you doing?”

“We’re not going with
radiation this time, Carol.”

“Oh, dear.”

“And we’re not going with
chemo, either.”

“I understand. Oh,
dear…I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well, Josh—Bertram—would have you
believe it doesn’t matter.”

XI

“Okay,” Becca said to Dr.
London, “I’m ready.”

Dr. London said, “I’m
going to leave as much—”

“Please,” Becca held up
her hand, “spare me the details. Just kill the bastard, okay? Make sure it
doesn’t come back Oh, and doc, one more thing before you put me under.”

“What’s that, Rebecca?”

“I’d like an old Chinese
guy standing by just in case.”

Dr. London chuckled. “I
promise you, Rebecca, that you won’t need him.”

“Okay, doc. I’m taking
your word for it.” She sighed heavily and blinked back tears, which nurse
Chambers wiped away with a tissue. “Let’s do it now before I change my mind.”

I

Becca stepped out of the
elevator and paused. The VA hospital had even a more intense institutional aura
about than Allegheny General in spite of its location on a hill overlooking
Pitt Stadium and the University of Pittsburgh. The atmosphere of despair and
sadness overwhelmed her. This place existed only because of war. The men here
had paid some kind of price for the privilege to be here—to
die
here. She
tried to keep her spirits up, however the locked doors on either side of the
nurses’ station made that difficult. Those doors led to the wards—Josh was
behind one of the locked doors. In the room on the left, a man and woman sat
holding hands, their eyes downcast and their faces displaying a kind of
hopelessness. The nurse at the reception desk regarded Becca curiously, as she
approached and smiled warmly when Becca’s face lit up with a smile.

“Hi,” Becca said, “I’m
here to see Josh Martin.”

“Who?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I mean
Bertram Martin.”

“Whom should I say is
here?”

“Becca Smith.”

“His mother had mentioned
that you would come by. You may see him.”

“I may see him. Are there
people who can’t?”

“Sometimes our patients
have problems with certain visitors.”

“He won’t have any
problems with me. It’s been six months and he’ll want to see me, I assure you. I’ve
changed. I hope he won’t mind. Nah, probably not. I know how he feels about
legs.”

“Pardon me?”

“I’ve got to get him out
of here. Is he getting better? When will he come home?”

“I don’t think you’ll do
any harm. Mrs. Martin seems to feel you’re just what he needs.”

“You’re damn right I am.
I am his fiancé after all.” Becca smiled. “I’m going to marry him as soon as we
can get him out of this joint.”

“I think his doctor would
like to speak with you.” The nurse dialed the phone and moments later, a
doctor’s name came over the speakers. “Maybe you’d like to sit down?” the nurse
motioned to the waiting area. “The doctor will be right out.”

“Why can’t I see Josh
first?”

“The doctor will want to
talk to you, Miss Smith. Please just have a seat.”

“What’s the problem? Is Josh
that bad?”

The nurse looked at her
quizzically. “That bad? I can’t answer that—but he’s not restrained now if
that’s what you mean.”

“Holy
crap.
You
mean he
was?
What the hell did they do with him Atlanta?”

The nurse said
soothingly, “The doctor will talk to you. Please, don’t stand. Have a seat. Excuse
me.” She answered a phone.

Becca sat down on a green
vinyl couch across from the couple. The woman regarded her momentarily,
offering a pleasant smile that masked her pity and curiosity. Becca would never
get used to that kind of look, but she learned to ignore them. She prepared
herself for the inevitable question, but the woman merely glanced at her
husband and then resumed her scrutiny of the floor.

Becca tapped her foot
impatiently. The wait to see Bert had been agonizing. He had made no calls and
sent no mail. Carol had only said that her son had returned to the Pittsburgh
VA and continued to “have problems.” He did not want to talk—not to his
brothers, the doctors, or his mother. He barely acknowledged anyone who spoke
to him. He would look, but not speak, he would smile and hold his mother’s hand
and let her run her hand through his hair, but he would not speak. Becca was
there now because Carol had convinced the doctors that he needed to see her,
since they had been so close before he had gone to Vietnam.

Ten minutes passed before
a doctor came into the waiting room and spoke to the nurse, who gestured at Becca.

The doctor shook her hand.
“I’m Doctor Morris, Bertram Martin’s doctor. I’m glad to meet you Miss Smith.”

“Becca,” she said.

“Carol Martin really
insisted that you see him.”

“She’s a smart lady. What’s
wrong with Josh?”

“You call him Josh. Why?”

“He likes that name.”

“Miss Smith—Becca, would
you come with me to my office?”

“I want to see Josh.”

“You will see him, but I
want to talk to you first. Would you like a wheel chair?”

Becca shook her head. “No
sir. I don’t use them.” She took up her crutch and followed Dr. Morris through
a set of doors and to a small office. She sat down in a chair in front of his
desk. “All right, what’s up?” She asked.

“Bertram has been
virtually non-communicative since he arrived.”

“Why?”

“We don’t know. We are
trying to assess that and treat it. He’s just unresponsive, and has been since arrived.”

“What happened in the
Atlanta hospital, why couldn’t it do anything?”

“To be honest, they just
ran out of room and decided to send him here. They did all they could, but…he
wouldn’t communicate. Being home, they thought, might be better for him.”

“How is he? I mean
physically?”

“He is fully recovered
from his wounds.”

“So, when do I see him?”

“Soon. Did he write to
you and tell you what happened?”

“No.”

“He didn’t mention his
wounds his mother said.”

“Didn’t know anything
about them.”

“Then you don’t know of
his heroics?”

“No! Josh is a hero?”

“He’s been recommended
for the DSC.”

“What’s that?”

“Distinguished Service
Cross.”

“That’s an important
medal?”

“The next highest is the
Medal of Honor.”

“Oh my God. What did he
do?”

“He saved his company
from imminent destruction—took command when the officer was killed and led his
men through a fight involving hand to hand combat, even after being wounded
twice. However, that’s just one incident. In another, he saved his platoon from
certain annihilation. We know what happened and so does he, but that’s not what
is bothering him. He said he could prevented the attack if he hadn’t been
sleeping when it started. In spite of the fact that he may have dozed off, and
men were killed, he ended up saving everybody else. He feels guilty that he
could not prevent it, and he feels guilty that he couldn’t save
all
of
them.”

“Oh, my God.”

“But that’s not the issue
we’re concerned with—there’s something else he’s not telling us. Something that
we don’t know about. You are very close to him I’m told.”

“Yes, closer than you can
believe.”

“He’s never mentioned you.
He rarely speaks at all. He’s just shut himself off from reality because the
last time he faced reality he was in a life and death situation. It’s a classical
reaction to someone being in combat and having others die—friends, or people
you are responsible for and you survive.”

“So what do we do?”

“Get him to talk and
we’ll know more.”

“He’ll talk to me, doc. If
he doesn’t I’ll smack him.”

Dr. Morris smiled. “Well,
I wouldn’t recommend that as a form of treatment.”

“Who’s talking about
treatment? I’ll smack some sense into him.” She smiled, but the doctor saw it
was to mask her worry.

“Do you call him Josh all
the time?”

“Yes.”

“Why doesn’t he like
being called Bert?”

“He doesn’t like his
name.”

“He doesn’t like
Bertram?”

“No sir. He doesn’t much
care for Leslie, either, which is his middle name. He likes Josh or Alexander.
He likes Josh because it has a nice ring to it. He likes Alexander…well, I’m
not sure, but I like that name so that’s why he likes it I suppose. So why are
we talking, doctor? I came here to see Josh. He needs me. After all, he’s going
to be my husband.”

“You’re engaged?”

“We will be as soon as he
gets out of here. He doesn’t know that yet. I think he loves me, but he doesn’t
know it—well, maybe he
does
know it, but if he’s not talking to anybody
right now he’s sure as hell not going to
say
he loves me. You’ve got to
get him out of here. Listen, I
know
he’s nuts, but he’s not crazy, and I
need him.”

“He’s a very fortunate
young man.”

“You bet he is. I’m a
prize. Say, maybe if I remind him that the back seat of my Mustang is still
waiting for us, do you think that will snap him out of it?”

Dr. Morris shook his head
in wonder. “I don’t know, but when you mention it to him, we’ll see what
happens. Miss Smith, you are quite a young lady.”

“I’m just me. Seriously,
Doc, I need him out of here. We’re salt and pepper.”

“Salt and pepper?”

Becca nodded. “I
adore
him. Do you know what that’s like to absolutely
adore
someone? Do
you know what it’s like to
crave
someone? I don’t mean like I can’t live
without him or anything like that, but like…I don’t know…like I’m
alive
when
I’m
with
him and with
out
him I’m just living. Does that make
sense? I can tell you, when he’s around me, I can breathe, but when he’s not,
I’m just…I’m just taking in air.” She realized her eyes had teared, and she
brushed them with the back of her hand. “Oh, doc, listen to me. I’m talking
nonsense. Hey, maybe I’m crazy. Maybe you need to put
me
in here. Okay? Put
me right in the same room as Josh. Don’t let me walk out of here.”

Dr. Morris smiled and
said gently. “You’re not crazy, Miss Smith. Love is a very powerful emotion.” He
cleared his throat. “Now, it seems you’ve had rough time yourself recently.”

“Who me? No.”

He smiled and shook his
head gently. “How recently?”

“Oh.” Becca chuckled. “Five
months, four days and four hours and”—she glanced at her watch—“ten minutes and
a few seconds, but I’m not counting.”

“You seem to have
adjusted quite well.”

“Yeah, well, what could I
do? It’s not like I had a choice.”

“Does he know?”

She shook her head. “No.”
Then she shrugged. “I’ve told him—I mean in letters. But he’s never responded.”

“It could have an impact
on him.”

“He’s not interested in
my legs. A leg is a leg.” She sighed heavily. “Okay, Doc, can we finish here so
I can see him? I’ve got to get him talking and if he doesn’t I’m going to knock
him silly.”

“I’ll go with you. Do you
need help?”

“No!” Becca said
emphatically. “I’m not a cripple.” She smiled and shook her head. “Well, maybe
I should look that word up in the dictionary before I say that. But no thanks,
doctor.”

Together they went out
into the hall.

“Did he ever say something
about a girl crying?” Becca asked.

“What made you say that?”

“Just before…I
mean…sheesh, months ago when I saw him last. He mentioned a couple of times
that ‘she cried’. That’s what he said, ‘she cried.”

“He’s not mentioned it.”

“And in Atlanta he said
he killed someone.”

“Yes, he made mention of
that to the staff there. But he wouldn’t explain.”

After a short pause,
Becca said, “You know, this is really weird; I mean it’s like I’m Van Johnson,
only I’m not the one that came back from the war.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t
follow you.”

“Oh it’s just a movie
about the war. Not
this
one—the big one. Van Johnson, Spencer Tracy.” She
shrugged. “Don’t mind me. See, I told you I’m crazy.” She stuck her arms out,
wrists together. “Put me in a straight jacket, doc and then put me in a room
with Josh.”

Dr. Morris smiled and
shook his head. “I don’t think there would ever be an occasion where you would
need a straight jacket.”

“There will be if you don’t get me in
there to see him in like the next two minutes.”

II

“I’ll go in first,” Dr.
Morris said. “Wait right here.”

Bert sat on his bed. There
was a TV in the room and he stared at it. Doctor Morris greeted him, and Bert
nodded, but did not speak.

“How are you today?”

Bert shrugged and stood
up.

“You’re mother has been
here and your brothers. You’ve had a busy month.”

Another shrug.

“Bertram, you have a
young lady visitor.”

Bert looked up; his face
showed the question he did not ask.

“Now she says you’ve got
to talk to her, and quite frankly, I think you had better, because she’s not
going to leave until you do I’m afraid.” Dr. Morris leaned closer to his
patient. “Josh,” he said softly. Bert looked at him. His eyes searched the
doctor’s face. “You like that name, don’t you?”