From the Indie Side (30 page)

Inspired by these classics, I attempt to pen
tales that are simply about the story and the characters and not
about fancy words or beautiful descriptions. At the end of my
stories I hope, wonderful reader, that you will feel you’ve enjoyed
a journey into the fantastic with a neat twist at the end.

I love the way a short story cuts to the
chase. You are plunged smack bang into the middle of the action
ready for a great ride before reaching a satisfying conclusion that
leaves you pondering its ramifications.

Most days I’m just an average mother and wife
living in Perth, Western Australia, but this darn imagination of
mine keeps constantly venturing into the crevices of dark worlds,
whether I want to go there or not.

The idea for “The War Veteran” came from
Salinger
, a fascinating documentary on the late, great
author of
Catcher in the Rye
. One of the interviewees (who
had served in WW2 with Salinger) talked of the horror flashbacks he
still experienced.  He shared that, to this day, the mortars
and gunfire still erupted in his home, and were just as terrifying
as they had been when he’d experienced them in real life. 

He didn’t preface the statement with the
words “imagined” or “visions”; he spoke as if the armaments were
actually real. The idea of that haunted me. How horrific must it be
to live with that for all those decades? There was no choice then.
I had to write the story of “Jack Baker,” to put myself in the
shoes of a man in this position.

In researching the story, I read and listened
to firsthand accounts of surviving WW2 veterans.  Nothing I
could write can ever totally capture the experience, so my
apologies to anyone who has witnessed war firsthand. I know my
description pales. 

If you enjoyed
The War Veteran
, you
can find links to my other books and stories at
An Adventure in Words
(
http://susanmaywordadventures.blogspot.com
)
I’d love you to spend some time with me. I promise you a
fun ride.

Lanie tasted metal;
 sterile air flooded her nostrils. Screens illuminated
the dim room and there was a dull beeping coming from somewhere.
She could faintly see her mom in the fluorescent light spilling
from the hallway: stooped over in her chair, a comforting weight
half-leaning over her sheets, both hands wrapped tight around her
daughter’s.

How
the hell did I get here?

Lanie’s first
thought had been a simple one, swiftly and sharply rewarded with a
band of pain that sliced through her head, her eyes flickering shut
at the intensity. She’d put her other hand up to her head, and
feeling the soft bandages under her fingers had started screaming.
A hospital bed?

“Thomas, where
are you, Thomas? Why am I here? WHAT HAPPENED?”

It wasn’t her
husband that skittered into the room but a nurse, hotly pursued by
a doctor—one she vaguely recognized from some team function or
equivalent. Maybe last year’s Christmas party? Thomas would know.
Where was Thomas?

“Pleased to see
you’re back with us,” the doctor said as he walked toward the bank
of monitors by the side of her bed.

“How did I get
here?” Lanie licked her dry lips as the words croaked out of her
mouth.

The doctor
picked up her chart from the foot of the bed, briefly glancing down
at her notes, brows beetled like a pair of fat, hairy caterpillars
mincing across his face.

“The police
will be in later. From what I have here though, it seems you hit
another car head-on and came out second-best.” He paused. “Thomas
will be along shortly. He’s been with your son.”

“
SAM
?
JAKE?
What’s wrong with my boys?”
Lanie scrambled to sit up, grabbing at the sheets on her
bed.

“Calm down,
Lanie. It’s just Sam, he was with you in the car. Thomas is with
him.”

“No! I need to
know if he’s okay! Let me see him.” Lanie’s mother and doctor
struggled to hold her in bed.

“You need to
calm down. You’ve got a pretty nasty head injury, and I’ll have to
give you something if you don’t stop it.”

Been
a parent for long, have you, Doc?

“According to
my notes, you hit a much bigger car out on the old loop road
and—”

“
No.
I was at the
shops… I never got into the car. This is ridiculous.” Lanie’s voice
lifted an octave, her eyes darting around the room looking for
something, anything.

“Right.” The
doctor frowned, watching her cautiously. “The specialist is coming
to check in with you later and run some tests. Amnesia is pretty
common with head injuries of this nature, but it’s probably only
temporary.”

Lanie looked
over at her mother then, the tears that had been filling her eyes
starting to spill unchecked down her face.

“Mom, I don’t
understand what’s happened or how I got here. What happened with
Sammy?”

“Honey, it’s
going to be fine,” her mother soothed, gently stroking Lanie’s
arm.

“Thomas has
been keeping an eye on you, said you got a big knock to the head
when it went through the glass. But the surgery went well, you’re
going to be fine. It’ll just take time, that’s all, love.”

“But Sam, will
he be…”

“He’ll be fine,
honey.” She tried to hug her daughter as best she could over the
tubes running from Lanie’s body to the various machines. “Thomas’s
been with him. They’re just setting his arm now.”

“I don’t
remember being in the car. I was at the mall with Sammy—we were
going for ice cream. How does that… how does that land me in a car
wreck?”

Her mom looked
down at the floor and sighed deeply. “I’m sure you’ll remember
Lanie, but the police do want to talk to you about that.”

“I don’t
remember, Mom.” Tears welled in Lanie’s eyes, and the room began to
blur again.

* *
*

The police
officers were ushered through later that day, short on time and
pleasantries.

“Can you tell
us where you were traveling Tuesday afternoon, Mrs. Karvan?” The
officer leafed through a file as he spoke, his partner watching her
intently.

“Sammy and I
were going out, going for ice cream. And groceries—just a few
things.”

“Do you usually
take the old loop road, Mrs. Karvan?” The officer looked up from
the papers.

“No. I never
take it. No one does since the freeway went through.”

“So why were
you on it Tuesday?”

“I wasn’t on
it. I remember we were at the store and we were going to the food
court to buy ice cream after I finished the shopping.”

“After that
though, after the ice cream, where did you go next?”

“I uh…” Lanie
strained, desperate to fill the gaps. “I honestly don’t remember
anything else. We had ice cream—I promised Sammy ice cream…”

“Okay, that’s
all for now, Mrs. Karvan. We’ll be in touch.” The officer glanced
at his partner, eyebrows raised, as they prepared to leave the
room.

“If she starts
to remember anything, please give me a call.” The senior officer
passed a card to her mother.

“Hello? I’m
here too? Just because I’m in the hospital doesn’t mean you have to
treat me like a child!” Lanie shot at the retreating officers.

“Get some rest,
ma’am.”

A couple of
weeks in the hospital are enough to drive you mad. Lanie’s
movements were stiff as she packed the handful of possessions
Thomas and her mother had brought in for her, taking care to check
all the draws before she zipped her case.

“Are you ready?
You sure you feel up to this?” Thomas walked in, placing his hands
on her shoulders, piercing blue eyes full of concern.

Lanie blinked
at him, momentarily lost.

“Sorry,” she
murmured. “Yes, I’m all set—the doctor’s already been in and
doesn’t need to see me ’til next week.”

Holding his
wife’s bag between them, Thomas kept up a silent, steady pace as
they walked across the hospital car park. Leaving her to open her
own door, he inelegantly hurled her suitcase onto the back seat
while checking his phone, frowning as he tapped out a one-handed
reply.

Only
fifteen minutes, and I get to see my boys again,
Lanie thought, stomach clenched
with excitement.

* *
*

The empty house
had been a total affront.

“
What do
you mean you did it for me? I’ve waited so long to see them, to
hold them again! I miss them, Thomas, I miss being with them, lying
with them, cuddling them. I want—to see—
my boys
.”

Apparently the
shrill voice also works on shitty husbands.

Lanie watched
Thomas slam the front door and storm across the street.

Lanie left the
window, pausing as she walked to the kitchen to admire a bouquet of
flowers that had come home days earlier without her. Reaching under
the flowers to find the card, she found a badge. Picking it up, she
saw Thomas’s picture, his “letters”—that’s what they’d always
called his qualifications—basically everything listed the same as
on his hospital ID badge, except this one had a different logo and
a different title. Research Director. Experimental Medicine. The
Institute of Medical and Environmental Sciences.

What
the hell?

The kids had
gone to bed before she’d raised the issue of the badge. Thomas
hadn’t bothered to hide his look of irritation.

“I have no idea
what you’re talking about, Lanie.”

“There was a
badge, with your name on it, that said you worked at some research
department or something?” Lanie watched him carefully.

“Lanie, you
know I’ve been at the hospital for the last fifteen years.” He
walked over to the table, retrieving his ID badge from where his
things lay next to the flowers. He passed it to her. Lanie blinked.
“Dr. Thomas Karvan, Chief of Neurosurgery.” She sighed, handing the
badge back to him.

“I swear,
Thomas. I swear there was a different one here…” Lanie looked
confused.

“What’s going
on? What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded.

“Oh, come on
Lanie, please don’t start this again.” Thomas looked exasperated.
“Get some rest.”

“Start what?”
Lanie glared at him. “I know what I saw!”

He’d walked off
then and fallen asleep on the couch. When she woke in the morning,
he was gone.

* *
*

She’d waited
until the kids were at school before she’d started the hunt.

That badge has
got to be around here somewhere.

It wasn’t in
his bedside drawer, and it hadn’t been tucked in neatly with his
socks and boxers. She hovered at the door of his locked study.

“
You
can’t come in here, Lanie. Doctor-patient confidentiality is very
important.”

She had started
out cautiously. “I’ll be careful not to look at anything
patient-y,” she told herself, but before long it had become a
full-scale hunt. She kicked the filing cabinet next to his desk in
frustration. Perhaps she had misread the badge? Maybe it was a gag
gift or something from years ago that Thomas just didn’t remember?
Lanie heard a clunk, some files falling down the back of the
cabinet. She quickly pulled out the bottom drawer, desperate to put
the papers back so Thomas wouldn’t notice she’d been in there. As
she picked up the files, one fell from her hands, spilling papers
all over the carpet. Newspaper clipping after clipping glided to a
halt on the carpet. Brows furrowed and lips pursed, Lanie had
looked closer at the clippings, her interest piqued.

Obituaries. A
news clipping about a researcher from the local medical teaching
and research institute she’d met once before, back when she and
Thomas were new graduates and he was taking up a fellowship at the
school. He’d been found hanging in his own lab, leaving behind a
wife and three children.

God,
that was tragic. I remember those kids at the funeral, and his poor
wife.

More papers.
Detailed topographic charts. Pages and pages of information about
edible vegetation, life that thrived in arid conditions, methods
for collecting drinking water.

Thomas has never been interested in our garden. He couldn’t
even keep a cactus alive.