Gooseberry Island (12 page)

David had been home for six weeks when he pulled into the market, preparing to locate everything on his mother’s grocery list. As he approached the store, he spotted a young teenage boy walking out; he was holding a brown bag. An older man approached the boy and reached out his hand. David gasped and his dizzy mind immediately raced back to Afghanistan and the horrific beating of the young Afghan boy:

There was movement three hundred yards out on the street below.
Unusual,
David thought. It was a teenage boy, maybe fourteen, carrying a burlap bag and hurrying home before dark.
Never seen him before,
David thought.In a flash, a man—a Taliban fighter—jumped out of the shadows and grabbed the boy’s arm, pulling him to the street and spilling the contents of his sack. As the teenager yelled for help, another Taliban soldier emerged from the darkness. The boy screamed louder, but not a single soul came to his aid…

It only took a few seconds, but the whole scene played out in sequence in David’s mind—both men yelling and slapping the boy as he screamed for help, the slaps turning to a vicious beating until finally the boy was dead. He could almost hear Command say “Negative” again after he asked if he could intervene. He felt the anguish in his soul threatening to overwhelm him, but it was quickly replaced by a burning rage.

His eyes filled with tears, David returned to the present and started for the man in a mad rush. He was three steps from the shocked stranger when reality clicked in.
It’s the boy’s father
, he realized.
He’s…he’s okay
.

David’s body convulsed. He’d forgotten he was home, and the reality of it slapped him hard in the face.

The man pulled the teenage boy close to him; both of them were frightened by David’s sudden charge toward them.

“Sorry,” David said, though it sounded more like “Sigh.” Trying unsuccessfully to smile at them, he turned on his heels and hurried back to the Mustang.

For the next hour, David sat alone in his car, trying to calm the physical effects of his anxiety. Once he’d reined that in, he spent another two hours beating back the depression that always followed in anxiety’s wake.

He wasn’t sure whether the abyss existed within his heart or mind, but he knew that he was now filled with a great void—nothingness. There was no light there, only darkness. There was no hope, only despair. In time, he’d learned to embrace the silence, as the screams and whimpers of faceless victims became echoes that returned again and again, pushing the line of madness. Yet, the solitude was relentless, enveloping, merciless.
It would have been better had I never existed
, he thought, fearing another moment more than cashing in and leaving it all behind.
No love
, he thought,
no peace
. His memories were slanted in such thick negativity that his entire past would have been better off erased.
And no one knows I’m dying inside
, he thought, inviting another wave of panic attacks to crash onto the shore of his weary mind.

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to calm the short labored gasps.
Just ride the wave
, he told himself.
Just ride the wave
.

But in another room in his mind, he knew that even if he rode that wave—and didn’t crack his skull on all the rocks beneath him—he’d have to take the ride again and again. It didn’t take long before the jagged rocks seemed like the more merciful option.

Enough time had passed for Lindsey to realize David was not coming after her.
He’s obviously in a lot of pain
, she thought,
and doesn’t want to burden anyone with it.
She shook her head.
But I care way too much about him to let him go through this alone.

With Craig’s permission, she slammed David’s front door behind her and marched through the living room into the kitchen. “Don’t you dare play the coward with me, David McClain,” she shouted before even reaching the room.

As she expected, David had been staring out the kitchen window into nothingness. With tear-filled eyes, his head snapped up. “Don’t you ever call me that word…ever!”

She stared at him for a few long moments before her heart softened. “Then go ahead, tell me that you don’t want to see me anymore and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

He looked at her with tormented eyes but didn’t say a word.

“But you can’t, can you?” she said, her entire insides starting to tremble.

“It’s not you,” he vowed. “It’s me. I’m just not…”

“Don’t you dare feed me that tired line! I spent a year praying for you…writing letters and wishing for us to…” She stopped, trying in vain to contain her emotions.

His face looked panicked, as his mind obviously spiraled out of control to gather the right words. “I don’t have the words,” he said in less than a whisper.

“After the first time I came here, I thought for sure you’d chase after me,” she said. “I’m not stupid, David. I realize something happened over there that has you all twisted up. But I also thought that once you saw my face, you’d…” She stopped again and began to cry.

David placed his hand on hers. She started to pull away, but he stopped her, intertwining their fingers. “Lindsey, please…please don’t say anything until I finish. Just hear me out. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, her tears threatening to flood her face.

He took a few deep breaths. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I want you to know that I’ve never lied to you…and I don’t plan to now.” He shook his head. “I’m so messed up right now, Lindsey, I can’t even explain it.” He could barely hold eye contact with her. “I really hope we can be together someday…more than you can ever imagine. But I’m just not ready yet. I…I need to heal,” he stuttered.

She took a deep breath and held it.

“Torn isn’t even the word for what I’m feeling over this,” he babbled on. “The last thing I want to do is hurt either of us.”

“I don’t think we have to say goodbye, though,” she said, feeling the panic of desperation creep into her soul. “Don’t you remember the night we shared on that bench?”

His eyes grew even more distant. “I really wish things were different,” he said, “that life didn’t have to be so difficult.” He shrugged. “Time will tell, I guess.”

“You guess?” She returned his shrug to him, perturbed.

“Lindsey, I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that I don’t want to destroy any chance we might have at it…just because I might not be ready for it yet.” He grimaced. “I need time to find myself, okay?”

Lindsey, the child of a PTSD victim, shook her head. “You don’t have to find yourself, David. You just have to remember who you are…who you’ve always been.”

He nodded, tears streaming down his face.

Lindsey took a deep breath and surrendered. “David, I’ve told you the way that I feel for you and what I want for us. That’s all I can do. The rest is in your hands.” She peered into his dull eyes. “I can only hope that you’ll think of me every day, as I will you. I hope a lot of things, David.” She paused to collect herself. “Most of all, I hope the day will come when Afghanistan is behind you and we can fall in love all over again and catch up on all the things we’ve missed.” Mimicking him, she shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. I guess time will tell.” She pulled her hand away from his and felt her heart rip clean out of her chest. “Until then, you’ll be in my thoughts,” she whispered.

“I’m so sorry, Lindsey.” He sobbed, his shoulders rocking.

“I love you, David,” she said and, with one final attempt, grabbed his chin and forced eye contact between them. “Now tell me you don’t want to see me and I’ll leave you alone,” she whispered.

As he looked at her, Lindsey could clearly see the anguish in his eyes.

“You can’t, can you?” she said, hopefully.

His tears continued to leak down his cheeks. “I don’t want to see you…for now,” he said, and turned his eyes away from hers.

It felt as though someone had just slugged her in the gut. “Okay.” She gasped and ran out of the house crying harder than she’d ever cried before.

Long after Lindsey had run out of the kitchen, David remained catatonic—until he grabbed a drinking glass off the counter and threw it onto the floor where it broke into a hundred pieces. Enraged, he began smashing everything he could get his hands on in the kitchen. At the end of the violent outburst, he collapsed to the floor and began to weep. With his head in both hands, he screamed, “I love you, too, Lindsey.”

Day turned into dusk and, like most nights, just beyond the sobs and sniffles the world turned quiet and black.

After four or five weeks of self-imposed solitary confinement—a punishment filled with death-defying panic attacks and long, treacherous tunnels of depression—David decided to reach out to the men he had served with.
They’re the only ones who can relate
, he thought.
And I wonder how they’re doing…really doing?

David’s first quest was to find Max and talk to him. Since he also lived on Gooseberry Island, David figured,
It should be easy enough
. But visits to his home and multiple telephone messages went unanswered. Max proved to be more elusive than the Taliban.

He’s obviously avoiding me
, David thought, and it pissed him off—making him feel strangely abandoned by his friend.

“From what I’ve heard, Max has been drinking pretty hard,” Coley reported.

“What about his son, Max Jr.?” David asked.

“I’m sure he sees him,” Coley said, “but a few guys I know say that Max has been closing the bars every night.”

“If you see him, tell him I’ve been trying to get in touch with him,” David said, disgustedly.

“Sure thing,
if
I see him.”

David nodded, thinking,
I get it. It’s probably too hard for Max to see me and kick up a bunch of bad memories that he’s trying to drink away.

After tracking Nathan Michaels down on Facebook and getting his cell number, David picked up the telephone and dialed.

“Hey brother, what’s going on?” Nate asked, excited for the call.

“Nothin’ much,” David lied. “I was calling to ask you the same thing.”

“I’m still in,” he said.

“Really? I thought you’d get out with the rest of us when we got back.”

“Where else can I go? Have you tried finding work yet?”

David shook his head. “Not yet. I’m still on break, trying to get my head on straight.”

“Well, good luck with the job search once you get started. There’s nothing out there, and here’s a news flash for you…nobody gives a damn that we can navigate mountainous terrain or stop the bleeding on an open abdomen wound.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Everybody I’ve talked to is out of work. And it doesn’t matter how many medals they won over there.” He paused. “You okay, Davey?”

“I’ve been better. You?”

“Same. I still haven’t been able to see my boys.” By their senior year of high school, Nate had gotten his girlfriend, Lois, pregnant and decided to do the right thing by making her his wife. In a valiant effort to save what was already lost, they had another baby boy. Things quickly went south down misery lane. Nate tried to stick it out, but in the end everyone was suffering. It was a painful exit.

Dillon was now five. Bryan was three. He adored them both, but being powerless with the courts, his visitation had been sporadic at best. Nate suffered terribly from having failed them as a father.

Poor Nate
, David thought.
He actually cares more about his kids than he does himself
. In Afghanistan, he’d watched Nate walk through mental hell for his boys.

“I’d rather spend the rest of my life fighting in Afghanistan than not see my boys on a regular basis,” Nate added, his voice choked with emotion. For him, the separation from his children wasn’t a choice.

“What does your lawyer say?” David asked, forgetting his own hell for the moment.

“He says I shouldn’t push things right now with my boys; instead, I should look at the big picture.” Nate sighed heavily. “The whole thing’s been a nightmare.”

“That sucks,” David said, shaking his head.

“Oh, but it gets better,” Nate said. “Last week, I was walking through Home Depot when I heard a young boy call out for his father. I never even bothered to look up. The boy’s voice called out again. And that’s when I turned to find Dillon standing in front of me, alongside some strange man. The wrongness of it actually took my breath away and nearly dropped me to my knees. The guy caught it and quickly extended his hand, introducing himself as Jack. He told me that he was a friend of my ex-wife’s.” Nate paused. “I don’t remember shaking the guy’s hand, but I guess I did. Talk about feeling lost…” Nate stopped again to take in the air he needed to finish the story. “There was my son, standing beside a stranger instead of me. After I gave Dillon a kiss, I told him to be a good boy and to listen to Jack.” Nate tried to clear his throat. “My five-year-old smiled at me and then walked out of the store with a guy I’ve never even seen before.” He took in another deep breath. “Now tell me that’s not screwed up.”

“It is, Nate,” David agreed, quietly. “It’s definitely screwed up.”

There was another long pause. “But enough about my troubles,” Nate said. “What’s going on with you?”

“Like I said…same, same,” David said, deciding not to burden his brother with more weight.

“You sure?” Nate said, lowering his volume. “Because I can’t tell you how many sleepless nights I’ve already spent listening to a teenage boy screaming for help in my head.”

David immediately covered the telephone receiver and began to cry.

“Davey?” Nate asked. “You still there?”

Lindsey pulled her car into McDonald’s drive-thru and placed her order. A minute later, one bagged lunch was received through the window and paid for. She pulled the car up a few feet, stopping to check that the order was right. When she looked up, Tonia was standing right in front of the car.
Oh crap
, Lindsey thought, and instinctively attempted to avoid her old friend. But it was too late. The woman waved and started toward the car. Lindsey cursed under her breath and tried to fix her unruly hair in the rearview.
Damn,
she thought, shaking her head at the lack of makeup. Tonia’s face suddenly appeared in the window. Lindsey took a big breath and put on her best smile. She rolled down the driver’s side window.