Tragically Wounded (2 page)

Her angelic, melodic voice came to me over the never-ending expanse of the stifling desert. The blasts of bombs, the cracks of gunfire, the screams of injured soldiers, and the stench of death were somehow lessoned by the sound of her voice. Despite the extreme heat that threatened to burn me alive, I was at peace. My eyes closed as I allowed my mind and soul to leave the wretched Afghanistan desert. I floated on the waves of her voice, her face a beacon of light in a world of death and darkness.

 Beautiful, big, innocent green eyes stared at me with awe and appreciation, as if she could see into my heart – see my fears and my demons. But then she smiled. It was tentative at first, but warm and welcoming. I reached for her, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and hold on to her, to be grounded in her warmth and lifted from this wretched place. Her voice faded and her smile disappeared. No! I reached for her again, but, like her voice, she drifted further and further away from me. The calm I'd felt was replaced with chaos, screams, searing heat, blinding flashes of bright light, and intense pain.

I bolted upright, clutching at my left leg, sweating and screaming for the pain to stop. My heart thundered in my chest and my ears. I cried out in agony.

 "Sergeant, are you all right?" asked Becky, the nurse on duty. She stood beside my bed and lightly placed her hand on my shoulder in a comforting manner.

I shook my head. "It hurts." The doctor had called it phantom pain. My body was still feeling the pain of a limb that was no longer there. It was the worst kind of pain, too. Nerve pain. I rubbed at my knee and thigh, the only two parts of my left leg I had left. My mind flashed to earlier in the day when the singing woman had noticed my injury. I didn't know why I was thinking about that now of all times, but I was. The way she'd stared at my prosthesis before meeting my gaze. The look in her eyes was a look I'd seen one too many times: pity and disgust. That single look had hurt more than all the stares I'd gotten since I'd arrived home from Afghanistan.

While she'd been singing, I couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to be with a woman like her. She was beautiful with blondish-red hair that hung in loose curls around her shoulders and stunning green eyes. When she'd smiled at me – it had stolen my breath. In that short amount of time when our gazes had been locked, it had felt like she'd been singing just for me. It was like we were the only two people in the room. And I'd forgotten all about my injury and the nightmares that plagued me every hour of the day.

But then she noticed my missing leg and I knew a woman like her would never be interested in a man like me. I'd looked for a ring and there wasn't one, so I knew she wasn't married. She probably had a boyfriend though. Oh well. I'd learned the hard way that life wasn't fair.

"Let me check your chart and I'll see if I can give you something for the pain, okay?" Becky said, interrupting me from my thoughts.

"Thanks," I mumbled as she turned on her heels and left the room. I flopped back down on my bed and draped my arm over my eyes. The image of that woman's face was stuck in my mind. The sound of her voice was on repeat in my brain. What was it about her that I couldn't shake? I didn't know, but I was pretty sure I didn't want to shake it - whatever it was.

Becky returned a few moments later with two pills in a tiny paper cup, and a glass of water. I swallowed the pills without water, knowing that within half an hour, I'd be fast asleep and the pain would be gone. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same about the nightmares. "Drink up, Sergeant," Becky said, nudging the glass of water toward me. "You know this medication makes your throat dry."

I obliged her just so she'd go away. I wanted to close my eyes and dream of that woman again, to be caught up in the spell she had me in. Maybe that would keep the nightmares at bay. 

"Good afternoon, Sergeant. How are you feeling today?" Dr. Monroe said, taking a seat across from me.

"Tired." It was the same response I gave him every time he asked me that question.

"You're still not sleeping?" He jotted something down on his notepad.

"No."

"Did you have the same nightmare again last night?"

I shook my head. "It was different. I dreamt of the woman who sang here yesterday. I was in a trench in Afghanistan like I always am, but I could hear her voice and see her face. And then she just vanished, and I was reliving the bombing again."

"How did you feel when you were dreaming about the woman?"

"Happy. Peaceful…" I stopped short of saying aroused, which was a strong feeling I'd felt last night.

"What do you like about this woman?"

I rolled my eyes and sighed. What kind of question was that? I shrugged. "She's pretty and she's got a nice voice. I liked listening to her sing."

Dr. Monroe nodded and flipped through his notebook. "You mentioned that you're a classically trained musician…" he paused then added, "violin, right?"

I simply nodded, bored and annoyed with his questions. It wasn't his fault. He was the second doctor I'd had since I'd been here. Today was only the third time I'd seen him. My other doctor moved into the private sector and no longer participated with the VA, which was too bad because I'd liked him. Dr. Monroe wasn't so bad, but it was a pain to have to go through all the preliminary questions again.

"Do you still play?"

"Sometimes."

"Music can be very therapeutic. I think you should start playing more." Dr. Monroe turned around and tossed his notebook on the desk. He steepled his fingers under his chin and smiled. "In fact, I've spoken to Steve Boyd, the program director for the VA, and we've arranged for you to play with a couple of local musicians who will come here to the center twice a week."

I groaned. The last thing I wanted was to have to spend two days a week with strangers giving me looks of pity and talking to me like I was a fragile child. "I suppose I don't have a choice in the matter, do I?"

"You always have a choice, Sean, but I would really like you to give it a chance. We've set it up for Monday at one o'clock. If you absolutely hate it; then we'll discuss a different type of therapy."

"Okay."

He smiled. "Good. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"

"When is my non-existent leg going to stop hurting?"

I'm just your therapist. You know I can't answer that question."

I smiled, and then I laughed. I knew that, but I asked anyway just so he'd have to repeat himself.

"I see your sense of humor is still functioning."

"Hey, do you know who will be coming here to play music with me?"

Dr. Monroe stood and went around behind his desk, shuffling papers until he found the one he wanted. He grinned broadly. "Nicole Baker and Antonia Valentino, two of the women who were part of the quintet that performed here yesterday. It says that one is a pianist and the other…a singer."

My eyes widened and my jaw hung open. The singing woman who I hadn't been able to stop thinking about was going to come here and play music with me? That was fantastic! I didn't think I'd ever get to see the singing woman again, and now she's going to be coming here twice a week. Suddenly, musical therapy didn't seem so bad. Although, the look on her face when she'd seen my missing leg was seared into my brain. I really hoped she hadn't agreed to do this out of pity. I couldn't handle that.

"I noticed you're not wearing your prosthetic today. Is there a problem with it?" Dr. Monroe nodded toward my missing leg.

"Not really." I shrugged. "It still doesn't feel right."

"Well, it's going to take some time to adjust."

"Yeah, I know." I grabbed my crutches from where they rested against the desk, tucked them under my armpits, and stood. "Are we done?"

"We're done if there's nothing else you want to talk about."

I hesitated for a moment, but then decided not to say anything else. "Thanks, Dr. Monroe. See you tomorrow," I said - then hobbled out the door on my crutches.

I was supposed to have been here on Monday, but I'd received a call saying the session had been cancelled. I wasn't given a reason. At first, I was paranoid, thinking maybe the Veteran's Center had changed their mind about using our services. Thank God that wasn't the case. I stopped just outside the door and took a calming breath. I was both excited and nervous to be back at the Veteran's Center. Of course, Toni was running late(as usual) so I had to start the session alone. Sometimes I could just wring her neck. It's now or never, I thought as I pulled open the heavy door and walked inside. The girl at the front desk greeted me with a smile.

"Hi! Can I help you with something?" she said.

I smiled. "Yes, I'm here to see Steve Boyd."

"Oh, he's around here somewhere." She laughed. "Let me find him for you."

"Thanks." I noticed the Center was eerily quiet compared to what it had been when I was here last week. And that's when I heard the soft sounds of a violin solo. The music was unmistakable: it was the main theme from Schindler's List. Whoever was playing was exceptionally good. I'd never heard notes that sounded as if they wept when they left the bow. It was fantastic and I couldn't stop myself from following the sounds down the hallway until I reached the community room.

There, sitting next to a baby grand piano, was my brown-eyed soldier, a violin tucked under his chin and his eyes closed, obviously lost in his music. My breath caught in my throat and I stood mesmerized, unable to look away. I felt kind of like a voyeur watching him like I was. Playing music was like bearing your soul - it was therapeutic, all consuming, and very private. I was contemplating turning away when the music stopped.

The sound of a man clearing his throat behind me was startling. I let out a tiny gasp, placed my hand over my heart, and turned to find Steve Boyd, the program director. I blushed, embarrassed to be caught unaware. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to…it's just…"

Steve smiled. "It's okay. People tend to stop everything when the Sergeant plays."

My eyes widened. "That's the Sergeant?" My brown-eyed soldier was the Sergeant? The man I was here to play music with? I couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, come on, I'll introduce you," Steve said.

I hesitantly followed Steve to the other side of the room. I'd been thinking about this man since I'd first laid eyes on him, but now I was actually going to meet him. It was surreal and slightly terrifying. Oh how I wished Toni was here with me right now.

"Sergeant, this is Nicole Baker, the woman who has agreed to help with your musical therapy. Nicole, this is Sergeant Sean McKenzie," Steve said.

Shyly, I extended my hand to him. "Nice to meet you, Sergeant." Wow! He was much more handsome up close.

He took my hand and gave it a gentle shake. His hand was large compared to mine, warm and strong.  "Please, call me Sean," he said while smiling.

The sound of his voice melted my insides. It was deep and rough, like crushed velvet. There was something soothing about it too. "Okay, Sean." I smiled nervously. "I'm afraid our accompanist, Antonia, is running late." I sighed with mild aggravation. "It's a bad habit of hers."

"Don't worry about it," Sean said.

I nodded and smiled, grateful for his understanding and patience.

"Well then," Steve clapped his hands, "I'm going to leave you two alone. Shelly at the front desk can page me if you need me."

"Thank you," I said to Steve's retreating back.

"Do you need to warm up?" Sean asked.

"I already did."

He eyed me with disbelief, a faint smile pulling at his lips. "You did?"

"Yes, I sing in my car all the time." I laughed. "I'd much rather listen to myself than the crap that's on the radio nowadays."

Sean laughed and my heart soared. It was one of the best sounds I'd heard today. "Well, okay then."

 I pulled up a chair and sat beside him. "I heard you playing when I arrived. It was absolutely breathtaking. You're very talented."

"I can say the same about you."

"Excuse me?"

"Last week when you were here singing," he paused and shook his head, "this is going to sound crazy, but I felt like you were singing just for me."

I looked away and blushed. I'd felt the same way that day, as if I were giving him a private concert. Still, I wasn't used to getting compliments from men and I wasn't sure how to handle it. So I remained silent.

Sean reached over and put his hand on mine, sending a jolt of something unfamiliar through my body. I looked back at him. He smiled. "You have a beautiful voice, Nicole."

"Thank you." I cleared my throat. "Where did you study?"

"I didn't," he said and then quickly added, "not professionally anyway. I took private lessons as a child, and then joined the band in high school." He stopped short as if he wanted to say more, but didn't want to say anything else. "What about you? With a voice like that you must've had training."

I smiled. "It's the typical story. I started singing in the church choir; my mom thought I was the most talented child on the planet so she hired me a voice coach." I shrugged, suddenly feeling very comfortable talking about myself. "Eventually, I made it to Julliard."

"Wow. Julliard? That's great, Nicole."

"Thanks. Well, we should probably get started," I said, wanting to take the focus off of me for a while.

"Sure." Sean smiled and brought his violin into place. He began to play.

I was fascinated by how talented he was. I knew I was blushing again but didn't do anything to stop it or hide it. Just being near Sean had that effect on me. As he played and I sang, I noticed the way his gaze continually slid off the sheet music and found mine. Each time he'd do that, the notes would get louder and more forceful as if he were trying to tell me something. What? I didn't know. But the music eased the awkwardness I felt being around him. It wasn't really awkwardness as much as it was nervousness. Having a boyfriend and dating had always been at the bottom of my priority list – and it still was – but meeting Sean was making me reconsider that.

The sound of clapping as we finished the piece jerked me back to reality. I looked up to see Antonia coming toward us. It was nice of her to show up and grace us with her presence, I thought with a hint of anger. I loved Antonia. She was my best friend but her ability to be punctual was non-existent.

"That was great," she said with a big smile.

"Antonia, this is Sergeant Sean McKenzie," I said. "Sean, this is Antonia, our accompanist."

"Nice to meet you, Sergeant McKenzie. I insist you call me Toni," she said, shaking his hand.

"And I insist you call me Sean," he said with a soft chuckle.

God, his laugh did funny things to my insides.

"Sorry I'm late," Toni said, taking a seat at the piano.

"Oh, it's no problem. Nicole kept me company," Sean said.

I blushed again and Toni caught me. She gave me a sly smile. I could see the mischief brewing in her eyes. I gave her my best don't-even-think-about-it look, but I knew it was for naught. When Toni got an idea in her mind, it was nearly impossible to talk her out of it. I just hoped that whatever she had schemed up in the few short minutes she'd been here wouldn't embarrass me.

The session progressed without any further distractions and the three of us got along well, laughing and having a good time. When we'd finished, Sean turned to us and said, "That was a lot of fun. Thank you, ladies."

"Yes, it was fun," I said, smiling directly at Sean. I really liked looking at him.

"Agreed." Toni stood and stretched. "So Nikki, have you found a date for the symphony yet?"

Here we go, I thought with a mental groan. I knew where Toni was going with this and I had to stop her before she got to it.

Toni turned to Sean. "I bought four tickets for the symphony orchestra’s latest performance on Friday. My boyfriend and I, Nikki and her sister were supposed to go, but we found out that Nikki's sister, Jo, had to fly to some conference in Delaware?” She looked to me for confirmation.

I nodded, knowing I wasn't getting out of this no matter how hard I tried.

“So now we have one unused ticket..." Toni continued, "Unless you found a date, Nikki?"

She stared at me, knowing full well I hadn't found a date. I wished I could've burned holes through her with my eyes.

“Oh! I know!" Toni clapped her hands excitedly. "Would you like to come, Sean? They let you boys out of here occasionally, right?”

And there it was. I knew it was coming, but it still shocked me. I gave Sean an apologetic smile, hoping he knew he wasn't obligated to say yes but secretly I wished he would.

After a moment, Sean said, “Well, yes, it’s not like we're prisoners here or anything. Are you…?"

“Great! It’s a date then," Toni cut him off, "The symphony starts at seven. We'll pick you up here at five for dinner. Don’t worry it'll be my treat! It's the least I can do to thank you for your service.” Toni grinned at the two of us.

I wonder if Sean was as stunned as I was.

"C'mon, Nikki." Toni looped her arm through mine and dragged me toward the door. "It was nice meeting you, Sean," she called over her shoulder.

Before we reached the door, I yanked out of Toni's grip and turned back toward Sean. I heard her whisper something and then she skipped out the door. I shook my head with bewilderment. What the heck had just happened? "So, I guess I'll see you Friday then," I said, looking into his warm, brown eyes. I could get used to looking into those eyes. My heart raced as I waited for his response. My self-doubt was getting the best of me. What if, now that Toni was gone, Sean decided not to go?

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away," he replied with a smile.

I smiled.