Gooseberry Island (5 page)

As promised, the first patrol assignment in Afghanistan took place the following day. David’s team was dropped, via deuce and a half, six miles out from camp. Known as “the projects,” South Kabul was reputed to be one of the most violent areas on their grid. Sergeant Scott Gervasio, who’d been in-country for months, was assigned to tag along and show them the ropes.

Max, a gifted navigator with the natural instincts of an Apache scout, took point. With every sense heightened to complete vigilance, the team swept from house to house, interviewing locals, checking out any suspicious activity and essentially acting as human lures for concealed Taliban.

The day was uneventful, or as uneventful as it could be when kicking in doors in downtown Kabul.

As the day progressed, a level of confidence and comfort worked its way into their efforts. “We’ve gone over this back at camp,” Lieutenant Menker said. “We cannot fire at the Hodgie’s unless fired upon.”

“And I’ll say it again,” Max replied. “It’s better to be tried by twelve than carried by six.”

Big Al stared at him. “I swear, your family must have too much chlorine in its gene pool.”

Everyone laughed.

“And that’s coming from a guy who likes to work from twelve to one, with an hour off for lunch,” Max countered.

Everyone laughed more.

After debating the rules of engagement and what would and would not land them in Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary, they took Max’s hint and located a secure area to eat lunch. Canteen water and dehydrated MREs caused even more comical griping. “We should just grab one of these wandering goats and roast it,” Nate suggested.

“Then we’d definitely have a firefight on our hands,” Lieutenant Menker said, grinning.

David laughed but remained quiet. He was content with absorbing his foreign surroundings and taking it all in.

Five hours later, the patrol was on its final leg back to camp, tired but satisfied with their effort.

“Another day, another dollar,” Nathan called out.

“Yeah, before taxes,” Big Al joked, poking fun at their menial pay.

David pulled his father’s note out of his pants cargo pocket and read it a few times, while the team walked the six miles back to camp and reported the day’s events—
without incident.

After a few days of consecutive foot patrols—and thinking about Lindsey whenever he wasn’t scanning for those who preferred him dead—David jumped on Skype again to meet her and continue their long-distance courtship.

“Miss me?” he asked.

“Nope,” she said, grinning.

“No?” he asked, surprised.

“How can I miss you when you’re always with me…in my heart and mind every minute of the day?”

“In that case,” he said, matching her smile, “I haven’t missed you either.”

She laughed. “Good.”

“Lindsey, I’ve already had a lot of time to think over here, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the night we spent together on that bench. I have to tell you…”

“Yeah?”

As if he’d waited forever to confess it, he said, “From the moment I first saw you, I felt an attraction that I’ve never known before. Though I think you’re beautiful, this chemistry I feel for you is more than just physical. I honestly think it’s a spiritual connection we share. There were times that night on the bench when I looked at you and swore that you saw everything inside of me. And…” He stopped, embarrassed.

“Go on,” she whispered.

He smiled. “And that kiss…that was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I know I’m…”

“David,” she quickly interrupted, “I’ve done nothing but think about you since you left, and I honestly can’t wait to be with you again.” She took a deep breath. “I know it may seem strange to some people, but I’ve always tried to follow my heart rather than my head. I realize there are people who might call that foolish, but I say life’s too short for anything else, especially regret. I don’t want to have any regrets the day I die.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to feel like I should have done something, or worse, deal with the ‘what ifs…’”

“I’m just sorry that the timing is bad for us,” he cut in.

“It’s not so bad,” she said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled. “Good.” He stared at her for a moment, memorizing her face. “How’s your dad doing?” he asked.

“Oh, he’s fine. Yours?”

“No idea,” he said honestly.

After David babbled on about the details of his recent missions—careful to leave out anything that might be disturbing—the conversation eventually slowed and touched on several random topics.

Finally, Lindsey returned to the one and only subject that they both wanted to discuss. “David, before you have to go I want to tell you…I’m trying really hard to keep myself in check and not let myself get too carried away with you,” she said.

“And how’s that working out?” he asked, smiling.

“Not good,” she admitted. “There are so many things I wish I could share with you right now, but I know I can’t. Well, not yet anyway.”

“We will,” he whispered.

“It’s not easy, but I really am trying to keep things in perspective.” She stopped, staring at him for a few moments. “I know you can’t make me any promises and I understand that, but it’s not easy trying to pretend that I don’t miss you like crazy…wishing I could be with you right now.”

“It’ll be worth the wait,” he said.

“Oh, I’m sure of it! In the meantime, I want to be able to share everything I’m thinking and feeling with you without putting any pressure on you. That’s not my intention. I’m just trying to follow my heart and believe that we’ll have a chance. We have to.”

“Are you kidding me? I don’t feel any pressure at all,” he said. “Trust me, I appreciate the openness between us, and I want you to share everything with me. I want to know everything, so please don’t ever hold back with me. As I’ve said before, my biggest fear is our timing. I just don’t want anything to happen that’ll jeopardize a real chance of us being together. Please trust that I want you at least as much as you want me. I think about you nonstop and…”

“And?”

“And I realize it hasn’t been all that long since we met, but I’ve grown to really care for you, Lindsey.”

“We’ve both grown,” she whispered.

They sat in silence for a while—a wonderfully comfortable silence spent studying each other’s faces—before Lindsey provided David with his Red Sox update. “Okay, final report for the day: The Sox lost to Baltimore on Saturday, two to four, but won on Sunday, twelve to ten. They’re facing off with Seattle for their next outing. Looks like they’re still four out of first place, but I predict that the Yankees are going to slow down and the momentum’s going to shift to the Sox. David Ortiz had a great game on Sunday with two home runs, so I think the boys have a breath of fresh air to hopefully get their second wind for a pennant run.”

“Wow, listen to you,” David said. “You could start working for NESN.” He looked at his watch. “Oh man… I hate to run, beautiful, but I have to get prepared for another day at the office.” He stared into the computer screen. “Keep smiling, Lindsey. The world’s a much prettier place when you do.”

She smiled. “Be safe, David,” she said. “It’ll be over before we both know it.”

He winked at her just as the computer screen went blank.

Denis Wood, Lindsey’s dad, walked out of the VA Hospital, signing himself out weeks earlier than promised. He was holding a plastic grocery bag filled with his personal belongings.

Lindsey sat in her car, waiting for him in the parking lot. As usual, they drove away from the large complex in silence—no questions asked about the time he’d spent there, no information volunteered—just the way the broken man demanded. Denis never talked about his actual service—ever. The jagged scar above his left eye and a missing index finger spoke volumes even though he wouldn’t.

On the way home, Denis finally cleared his throat and spoke. “Joe, one of the regulars on the looney ward, knows a guy…”

“…who knows a guy,” Lindsey teased.

He grinned. “…who can get us tickets to the NASCAR race up in New Hampshire, smart ass.”

“That’s great, Dad,” she said, unimpressed.

“What do you say? We could take the ferry over and drive to New Hampshire.”

Lindsey was shocked he was asking her to go.

“It could be a great time,” he continued to pitch. “A bunch of guys are going…”

“Sure, Dad,” she finally consented. “Sounds like fun.”

“Great! I want to get up there early, so I’ll ride up with Ruggie. You can meet us there in time for the race.”

Early, huh?
she thought, but decided not to question it.

Late Saturday morning, Lindsey crossed the New Hampshire border and came to a stop. The line of traffic stretched out as far as the eye could see. Pickup trucks inched along, blaring country music. Like a massive trailer park serpent, each car or truck looked like it was attached to the bumper in front of it. People were friendly and yelled out their vulgar greetings. Lindsey was tempted a few times to holler back but didn’t. Instead, she spent the time thinking about David.
I wonder what he’s doing right now.

Once she reached the parking lot, Lindsey was amazed at how NASCAR had evolved into such a colossal event. Her dad never missed a race on TV, but it was quite different to see it in person. There were thousands of fans setting up their tailgate camps, each smiling face waiting for the green flag to drop. As she pulled in, she had to drive around the long lines at the port-o-johns.

Their agreed-upon rally area was a campsite that had been set up by some friends from home. It took Lindsey nearly twenty minutes to find it, but she finally did. Everyone else had already gotten comfortable. They’d arrived a day early and would be leaving for home a day after everyone else. In the meantime, they lounged back, got drunk and did some serious people watching. There was no better spot, as thousands of characters walked past their site.

And then she spotted her dad. He was sitting beside his friend, Ruggie, as well as a stack of coolers that were strapped into a red wagon by bungee cords. And, he was already drunk.
Oh no
, she thought, and approached him. “Hi Dad,” she said, kissing his bright red cheek.

“Took you long enough,” he said.

She ignored the comment and took a seat beside him. When she finally caught his attention, she whispered, “Don’t you think you should take it easy?” She pointed at his beer. “It’s still kind of early, right?”

“What?” he said at a roar, making everyone look over. “We’re here to have fun, and I don’t need a nervous Nellie watching over me!”

Lindsey nodded, while everyone else looked away. Denis Wood didn’t have a drinking problem, or at least that’s what he believed. His drinking was everyone else’s problem, especially Lindsey’s. Since her mother had left, the bottle had become his soul mate, and he couldn’t survive without it.

After an embarrassing start, the next few hours were filled with a strange nostalgia.

“Remember that first race I took you to at Seekonk Speedway?” Denis asked Lindsey, reminiscing about days gone by.

“I do,” she said, remembering that very day with a hazy sense of terror. “After the races were over, it took me an hour before I finally found you in the parking lot.”

He laughed. “You’re crazy! An hour.”

She shook her head, deciding to laugh it off as well.

Everyone was in good spirits. And the faster the beer flowed, the more her dad talked; it was an old tradition.

After some more drinking, Lindsey, Ruggie and her dad started up the throughway toward the main gate. It was like a carnival, with both sides of the fairway lined with vendors selling everything from sausages to T-shirts. Lindsey looked back. Her dad was already lagging behind, swinging a heavy cooler with each staggering step. It wasn’t even noon and his Dale Earnhardt ball cap was already sitting crooked on his head.
This is going to be a long day,
Lindsey thought.

Ruggie pulled, her dad pushed, and Lindsey carried whatever the wagon couldn’t bear. For the first ten steps, it worked well. Then, one of the bungee cords snapped and gouged a hole into Ruggie’s hand. Denis laughed. “I didn’t think that would hold,” he admitted, his words already slurred. As Lindsey wrapped Ruggie’s bloodied hand, they restacked the beer coolers and marched on.

Like cattle, thousands filed through the gates. The track was huge. They spotted their seats but decided to check out the fairways inside. It was worth the tour. Tractor trailer trucks of souvenirs lined the black tar trail. Each famous driver had his own and from the lines formed, there was no question that they were raking in the dough. Denis pulled out a wad of cash. As if she were a little kid, he bought Lindsey a T-shirt and hat before they started back to their seats. The crowd was so thick, it was impossible not to bounce off of every third person.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Ruggie sat on one of the hard aluminum seats. Lindsey followed, and then her dad sat beside her. Each one of them slid a cooler beneath their seat. With the exception of two bottles of water, Lindsey’s cooler was also filled with cold beer. It was her dad and Ruggie’s reserve stock. The old man told her, “You should have something to drink. It’s going to be a hot one.”

The opening ceremonies were incredible, almost spiritual. The celebrity drivers were announced and, two-by-two, the pairs came whipping by in the back of brand-new pickup trucks. The crowd cheered for each one. Then the national anthem played loudly over giant speakers.
I pray you’re safe
,
David
, Lindsey thought.

At the end of the song, two Air Force jets roared directly overhead, leaving Lindsey with an arm full of goose bumps and hair standing on the back of her neck. It was an amazing thing to see. Denis offered Lindsey his first drunken elbow. “Ain’t that something?” he asked.

She nodded, knowing that the day promised plenty more elbows.
What fun.