Gooseberry Island (7 page)

David nodded.

“And make sure you keep talking to him.”

David nodded again and jumped into the helicopter. He took a knee beside Al and grabbed the man’s massive hand.

As the chopper took to the air, it kicked up another hurricane of debris—bending the ranger patrol at their waists and making them shield their eyes. Fifty feet off the deck, David watched as the patrol was on their way again, with nasty Billy Brodeur leading the way.
But now they’re pissed
, David thought.
And someone’s going to pay dearly for this
.

The chopper banked sideways and picked up speed. Even though there was no way Al could have ever heard him over the deafening blades, David talked to his friend, doing all he could to comfort Al’s subconscious. “Hang in there, brother. They’re going to patch you up good and get you home to that beautiful family of yours.” Al’s gruesome wounds were already emitting the most ungodly smells.

David gagged and looked back out the door for some air.
Wow
, he thought, surprised at this new perspective of the disappearing world below.
This place is beautiful
.

He looked back at Big Al and squeezed the giant’s hand. “You keep fighting, ranger. There’s a little guy waiting for you back home.” He then looked down at the raw meat that was once his friend’s legs and shook his head.
Maybe Top was right,
he thought.
Maybe we should have watched what we wished for.

Just as soon as his schedule allowed for it, David visited Big Al in the evac hospital.

When he entered the sanitized room, Al was lying beneath a white sheet that was pulled tightly over his large body, clearly revealing that he would never walk again on the legs God had given him.

“My boy, Jack, thinks I’m a superhero…out here fighting all the bad guys,” Al explained, his eyes filling. “So when I called home yesterday, I told him that I had good news and bad news.”

David sat on the edge of his friend’s bed, waiting for the payoff.

“I told him that I lost my legs in a fight…”

“Oh man,” David moaned, picturing the young boy getting the devastating news. He fought off the emotion that threatened to embarrass them both.

“…but that the Army was making me legs just like Optimus Prime.”

David swallowed hard. He nodded but didn’t dare respond.

“Jack loves the Transformers, so he was real excited to hear it. ‘Really, Dad?’ he kept saying. ‘Just like Optimus? That’s soooo cool!’”

David placed his hand on Al’s arm. “You’re one of the best men I know,” he managed, though it sounded like he pushed it past a mouthful of cotton candy.

Big Al smiled and then looked out the window, giving them both a break before they broke down and cried.

A half hour later, David walked out of the hospital, where he stepped off into the shadows and allowed himself to cry. He was willing to do anything to push off the elephant that was lying on his chest.

Eventually composing himself, he pulled his father’s tattered note out of his pants cargo pocket and read it. Shaking his head, he crumpled up the note and threw it into the wind.
What bullshit!
he thought. He then felt for Lindsey’s letter in his other pocket.
Still there
, he thought, and left it right where it was safe.

Nearly a week passed before David dared to log onto Skype again. Lindsey was already connected—as she must have been each night since their last cyber date—waiting patiently. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. “Hey stranger, everything okay? I’ve been really worried. It’s been almost a week since…”

“I’m sorry,” he said sadly.

Her excitement faded, replaced by serious concern. “How’s work been?” she asked gently.

He hesitated. “Okay, I guess. Same old stuff.” It was less than convincing, and they both knew it.

“David, what happened?” she asked, looking like she was ready to cry.

“Nothing,” he said. “Really, I’m fine.” But his voice was as distant as his mind. “Everything okay with you?” he asked, trying to deflect and avoid sharing any details of their recent missions.

She sighed. “Fine,” she said. “But if you need to talk about anything then…”

“Lindsey, honestly, I’m fine,” he repeated, this time much more confidently. “It’s been a stressful week, that’s all.”

“You sure?” she asked.

“I’m sure.” He paused, forcing a smile. “Let’s talk about us. I’ve really missed
us
.”

Her excitement returned, and she smiled. “I have to admit, sometimes sharing the little bits and pieces of each other…a phone call every few days and the stolen moments over a computer screen…can be tough. I keep imagining a real fairy tale for you and me.” The pitch in her voice rose. “…that you would throw everything you need into a duffel bag and come to me, sweep me off my feet and promise me that we’ll be okay, forever. Although I know you can’t just yet, a girl can dream right?”

“A boy can dream too,” he said, trying hard to appear just as excited.

“Oh David,” she said, “I can’t wait for you to lean across the table at a crowded restaurant and plant a big, wet kiss on me.” She stopped and grinned. “Don’t you wish I was there with you right now?” she asked.

“Absolutely not!” he snapped. “I’d never want you here, Lindsey.” He took a deep breath and softened his voice. “Anywhere but here,” he whispered. “I’d want to be with you anywhere but here.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” she asked. “Remember, you said you’d never lie to me.”

True
, he thought,
but I never said I’d share this nightmare with you
. He tried to clear his throat but could feel the elephant climbing back onto his chest. “Like I said, I just had a few tough days and I’m really tired.”

“Should I let you go?” she asked.

“Do you mind?” he asked, bringing a surprised look to her face.

There was a pause. “Of course not. When can we talk again?”

“Soon,” he promised, discreetly trying to calm his breathing.

“Do you still like me, David McClain?” she whispered.

“I more than like you, Lindsey Wood. I love you,” he said. “But listen, I gotta run. We’ll talk soon.” And then the PC screen went black.

Lindsey sat staring at the blank monitor.
I love you too,
she thought, but felt really confused over the strange exchange
.
After a moment, she shook her head.
Something happened
, she concluded,
something bad.

Girls’ Night Out, also known as the Thursday Night Club, had evolved from a book club into a movie club and then into poker night—dealer’s choice. Regardless of the night’s events, dinner was always pot luck, washed down by bottles and bottles of inexpensive wine.
We should just be honest with ourselves and call it The Wine Club
, Lindsey thought. But no one cared for the negative stereotype.

The club’s active members included Lindsey, Courtney, Paula, Ana, Tonia, Sandi, and Christine. Boys were strictly prohibited, as there was always some significant man bashing to be had. As of late, though, Lindsey’s loving glow had been the main topic. Most of the women were happy to share in Lindsey’s love drunk stupor, remembering that they’d all felt the same way at one time in their lives.

Lindsey sat beside Tonia and Ana on the couch. Tonia was an older, gray-haired woman who was recently divorced—and happily inebriated as a result. Ana was much younger, pretty with light hair and eyes. But she was already a man-hater and very angry at the world.

“My ex never even called our son for his birthday,” Tonia said with a venomous tone.

Lindsey sipped her wine and grinned. “For someone who swears she doesn’t care about her ex, you spend an awful lot of time talking about him, Tonia.”

Tonia’s eyes lit up, and a smile quickly replaced her sour puss. “Some habits are easier to break than others I suppose,” she said, sighing heavily. “To tell you the truth, girls, I’m not sure you can ever stop caring for someone, especially when you’ve shared a love as deep as mine and Ron’s.” She smiled. “For now, though, it’s a lot more fun to hate him.”

The three women shared a laugh. Lindsey stared off into space for a moment, her thoughts consumed with worry over David. Her expression changed from humorous to concern. Tonia immediately picked up on it. “Since it’s confession time,” the older woman said, “why don’t you tell us what’s bothering you?”

“David’s amazing,” Lindsey said, “but…”

“But?” Tonia asked.

Just then, Courtney, Christine and Sandi joined the girls on the couch.

Lindsey shrugged. “I don’t know. It might be nothing. It’s just that something was different with David the last time we talked.”

“Different how?” Courtney asked.

Lindsey shrugged again. “He wasn’t his usual funny and attentive self. I tried asking him what was wrong, but he dodged my questions and ended the call very quickly.”

“But I thought you guys…” Sandi said.

“Geez, Linds,” Christine jumped in, “I wonder what could be wrong? Maybe it has something to do with him fighting a terrible war in Afghanistan?”

Lindsey’s eyes filled. “I know that,” she said. “I’m just not sure what might have happened to him, and I’ve been worried sick.”

“We shouldn’t be over there anyway,” Ana mumbled under her breath.

Lindsey’s head snapped around, and she shot Ana a look that mirrored Denis Wood’s murderous rage. “You don’t have to support the cause to support our troops over there!” she hissed defensively.

“I know,” Ana said nervously.

“I hope so,” Lindsey said, looking away.

A thick silence fell over the group. Tonia finally placed her hand on Lindsey’s leg. “Just be there for David and listen. Don’t push.”

“Yeah,” Sandi said, “he’ll talk to you when he’s ready to share.”

Ana snickered and shook her head, drawing everyone’s attention. “Either that,” she said, “or he’s just a typical man, who’s completely inconsiderate and self-absorbed.”

The others brushed off the bitter comment as though it had never been spoken.

“Take it from me, sweetie,” Tonia added, trying to quell Lindsey’s growing fears. “Men can be just as mysterious as us. I wouldn’t worry, though. From everything you’ve told us, David’s a good man.” She looked at Ana, browbeating her into silence. “I second Sandi’s advice. Just be patient with him and he’ll come around.” She winked. “As long as there’s communication, respect and trust, love will always find its way.”

Christine grabbed Lindsey’s arm. “I have to tell you, though, Linds…you also have to be sure that your boyfriend’s life doesn’t completely consume all of you.”

“Precisely!” Ana interrupted. “To hell with any man who thinks he can just…”

Lindsey stood and shook her head. “Thanks for the advice, ladies,” she said and then looked at Ana. “And you…you really need to get a new hobby.”

Everyone laughed. While Ana’s forehead wrinkled in thought, Tonia was happy to partake in some more ex-husband bashing. Lindsey grabbed Courtney. “Let’s go find another bottle of Riesling.”

“And let’s drink it alone in the kitchen,” Courtney said.

They both laughed.

Lindsey sifted through a stack of mail and was excited to find a letter from
Sergeant David McClain
. She quickly opened it.

Dear Lindsey,

I hope this letter finds you well. We just got done Skyping, but I never feel like I’ve said everything I need to say.

As you can imagine, some days can get really rough over here. I suppose it’s hard to witness the things I’ve seen and not be affected. Whenever I seem quiet or distant, please don’t ever think that it has anything to do with you or us. I’m just trying to get through this tour the only way I know how. And I know that it can be frustrating for you when I don’t share the details of what’s going on over here. But trust me, Lindsey, you don’t want to know most of it.

I miss you like crazy, and I love you even more.

Please keep the emails and letters coming. They’re the one and only thing I look forward to.

Love you,

David

Lindsey read the letter two more times before putting it back into the envelope.
But I do want to know everything that’s going on, David
, she thought and shook her head.
It has to be even worse over there than I thought.

Hard weeks turned into long months. David and Lindsey talked on the phone, over Skype and via email whenever they could. They even resurrected the lost art of letter writing. Although many of their exchanges were melancholy, Lindsey had become David’s only ray of light in the darkness.

After another foot patrol, which had become much more serious since the IED attack, David was summoned to the HQ tent by the company First Sergeant. David stood at parade rest before the large man, curious about the rare invitation.

The man looked up from an olive drab folder. “You’re being plucked from your patrol for a special assignment, Sergeant McClain.”

“Really?” David blurted, surprised. “What’s the gig, Top?”

“I looked over your scores on the shooting range. Very impressive.”

David nodded.

“We need a man with your skills, your eye, to take out a tier-one target.”

David steeled himself and waited to hear more.

The First Sergeant opened a second green folder and revealed a black-and-white photo of a bearded Taliban fighter. “His name’s Mullah Abdul Raqeeb. Over the past six months, the son-of-a-bitch and his men have caused us one too many heartaches. In fact, we believe he’s directly responsible for the deaths of four American soldiers in an ambush that took place three weeks ago.”

David leaned in to hear more.
Four Americans
, he thought, and felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his bloodstream. “I remember that,” he said.