Girl of Mine (21 page)

“You’d really take me back, Jill?”

“I already have.”

“Don’t say that. Not yet. Wait until you’ve heard the rest of my story.”

“You’re scaring me.” He helped her up and said nothing. His silence scared her even more. Feeling curious, Jill said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do . . . do you know why I agreed to marry Troy?”

Luke nodded and avoided her eyes. “Yes.”

Jill felt her stomach clench with anxiety. “Oh. I wasn’t sure if you knew.”

He didn’t comment. “C’mon, let’s get back to the ranch house.”

Luke was about to throw together sandwiches for lunch, when she stopped him. “Let me make lunch.”

He agreed willingly. Jill investigated the contents of the cupboard and refrigerator, noting what was available to her, and quickly came up with a lunch idea. She combined a box of corn muffin mix, an egg, a can of cream corn, a can of chopped green chiles, and several handfuls of grated mozzarella cheese. She then fried spoonfuls of the mixture in butter, making perfect little corn cakes. After mashing an avocado, she mixed in a can of
Rotel
and topped each corn cake with a dollop of the makeshift guacamole. Next she mixed chives with sour cream, and added another dollop to each corn cake to finish off her invention. She promptly tasted one and was pleased with the combination of flavors.

Luke polished off at least six, all the while mumbling about how delicious they were. Jill felt pleased with his response. Perhaps he was changing his mind about frou-frou food.

They sat at the table, lingering. “I don’t want you to leave, Luke. The thought of you in a war zone scares me.”

“I’m in Civil Affairs. It doesn’t mean I’m out of danger, but our job helps to maintain peace. We interact with the civilians in the area we occupy to minimize problems and help our forces to be successful. Part of that might be making sure communities have water and electricity. We might help ensure schools and hospitals are re-built. Whatever supports our mission there. We spend a lot of time working with the local government.”

The job suited Luke’s personality. “Do you have to go?”

“Yeah. Can’t get out of it. I knew it was a possibility when I joined the Reserves. That was before I met you.”

He reached out and held her hand across the table. They studied each other’s faces, saying so much to one another without saying anything at all.

“What happened next, Luke?”

He was quiet for so long, Jill wondered if he was going to answer. His voice was soft when he finally began, “I didn’t see much of Troy for awhile. We were both healing and neither one of us were mobile. Troy was in and out of the hospital. He had to have a few surgeries where they did skin grafts to cover exposed bone.”

Jill suppressed a shiver. Troy had been through quite an ordeal.

Luke went on. “I saw him at his dad’s funeral. We were both in wheelchairs, so it wasn’t as if we could seek each other out. He didn’t look at me or acknowledge me. Not once. The day I got that huge cumbersome cast off, I went straight to his house.”

22

Luke and Troy
February 1988

Fifteen Years Earlier

Luke maneuvered the crutches, glad to only have a brace on his leg now. He felt as though he’d lost fifty pounds. He missed Troy something awful. He’d been bored out of his mind while his leg took for darned ever to heal. He wanted to ride bikes, roller blade, or go swimming. Anything that didn’t mean he had to sit still. But he wasn’t allowed to do that stuff yet. First he had to do dumb, boring physical therapy.

His mom invited Troy over to watch TV with him on several occasions. Mrs. Kelley said Troy didn’t feel like going anywhere or seeing anyone. Luke wished they could read comic books together or something. If they had to stay inside, at least they could do it together. But Mrs. Kelley kept saying Troy wasn’t ready to see anyone. He wouldn’t even talk on the phone.

Troy was really, really mad about his feet. Luke didn’t think he was a freak, he thought he was a hero. He hadn’t told a single soul about Troy’s toes and he never would. He hoped Troy wasn’t mad at him anymore. Luke wanted to tell him thank you for saving him. Troy was so cool. He wasn’t just cool, he was awesome. He was the best friend he’d ever had.

Mrs. Kelley let Luke in with a big smile. When she saw his cast had been removed, she hugged him so tight he couldn’t breathe and then she wiped away tears. She told him Troy was in the family room and hurried off to the kitchen saying she was making cookies.

Luke entered the family room. The drapes were drawn and the lights were low. The sofa had been unfolded to make a bed and Troy laid on it, his heavily bandaged feet propped up on a pillow. He was playing a video game, his fingers flying over the buttons at lightning speed.

“Hey Troy,” Luke said.

Troy didn’t even glance at him. “Hey.”

“Got my cast off.”

“Good for you.”

Luke swallowed, feeling disappointed. Troy was still mad at him. “Still gotta wear this brace for a couple weeks though.”

“Boo hoo.”

Yep, still mad. Luke wondered if he should leave. There wasn’t any room for him on the couch bed. It was covered with books, tablets, pens and pencils, cards, various magazines, and crossword puzzle books. All things to relieve boredom.

Luke stared at the glass-door bookcase in the corner of the room containing all of Mr. Kelley’s track trophies. The shelves were lit up, highlighting the awards. Besides the TV, it was the only light in the room. Somehow he felt as though he shouldn’t look at them, as if the action betrayed Troy. The bookcase would never be filled with Troy’s track trophies. It all seemed sad and depressing to him and he wished he could turn off the lights in the bookcase. It couldn’t be good for Troy to stare at it all the time.

“Can I open the drapes?” Luke asked.

“No. I like it dark.”

“This your sick room?”

“Don’t have a choice. I can’t walk yet.”

Luke had spent most of his time in the family room too. He hated being cooped up in his bedroom. His dad carried him to his bed at night, giving him a change of scenery.

Troy didn’t have anyone to carry him and the thought made Luke sad.

Luke sat on the recliner, lowering down and propping up his crutches. “You wanna do something?”

“I am doing something.”

“Wanna do something else?”

“Nah.”

They sat in silence as Luke watched Troy play.

“I think God hates me,” Troy said suddenly, not missing a beat of his game. “I was doing something good and I got punished for it. It’s not fair.”

Luke gulped. “My mom always says God gives us trials to make us stronger because he loves us.” He didn’t know what else to say, but his mom said it all the time, so it must be true.

“I was already strong. Now I’m a weakling.”

Luke couldn’t argue with that reasoning even though he objected to Troy’s train of thought. Instead he asked, “Can I play?”

Troy tossed a controller at him without looking and it nearly hit him in the head.

They didn’t talk anymore. They played video games for the next few hours. Troy creamed him every game.

“Can I come see you again tomorrow?” Luke asked.

“Whatever you want,” Troy answered, shrugging as if he didn’t care either way.

He didn’t look at Luke, not once.

That’s okay, Troy, I got your light.

The thought crossed his mind and wandered around, bumping through his brain as if it had no place to go until it was noticed.

Luke took notice.

23

Luke and Jill
April 2003

Present Day

“Troy saved my life. And even though he was still living, his light had somehow been snuffed on that mountain top. I knew that even at twelve years old. I’ve always imagined that I’ve got his light; that I’m keeping it for him until he’s ready to take it back.” Luke scoffed, seemingly embarrassed by his words. “Kinda silly, huh?”

Jill felt touched by Luke’s sentiment and wiped away more tears. “No, it’s not silly at all.”

Luke shrugged. “That pretty much sums up the next two years. Troy didn’t go to school. His mom homeschooled him. I visited him every day after school. He came to expect me, and I came to expect silence. Even if we didn’t talk much, we had fun. We played video games, board games, or watched TV. Our friendship was strange, but at least we were still friends. We never went outside. Troy liked to stay indoors. Special shoes had been made for Troy. He spent a year in physical therapy and had to re-learn how to walk. In the end, he still limped and he walked with a cane, but at least he could walk.”

Luke ran his hands over his face tiredly.

“Troy endured my presence. I always felt as though I was unwelcome, but he had nothing better to do, so he accepted my company. I guess I kinda forced myself on him. I couldn’t stand the thought of him being closed up in the house all alone all the time. He started writing stories, dark stories. Every once in awhile he’d read one to me. Frankly, they scared the hell out of me.”

Luke tipped his chair back as one hand rubbed the back of his neck.

“Even though I was trying to hold onto our friendship, everything was different and there was no denying that the plane crash had completely changed our lives. High school hit and Troy still opted for homeschooling. I began to make new friends and somehow I managed to survive the beginning of my freshman year. Then one day I arrived at Troy’s house and he was angry with me.” Luke scoffed and fell silent for a moment. “More so than usual, anyway.”

24

Luke and Troy
January 1990

Thirteen Years earlier

Luke laughed along with the canned laughter ringing out from the TV speakers.

Troy didn’t laugh, even though it was his favorite sitcom. He stared at the TV with a sullen expression.

Luke breathed in and out with a heavy sigh. It was getting harder and harder to spend time with Troy. He sure didn’t seem to want him at his house and he wondered why he was even trying. Stephan and Robbie, the new friends he’d made at school, had invited him to hang out with them today and he hated turning them down.

“You wanna watch something else?” Luke asked.

“No.”

“We’ve seen this episode before.”

“So. I like it.”

Luke thought about Stephan and Robbie, spending their afternoon riding bikes out to the lake, skipping rocks, and hiking around. He tapped his fingers on his knee.

“You can go if you’re bored,” Troy said, his voice monotone.

“I’m not bored.”

“Don’t you have something better to do after school?” Troy actually looked at him, really looked at him, a rare occurrence.

“Not really. I’m good with this.” Luke was lying. He was dying to go do something else.

“Why aren’t you running track?” Troy’s face flushed red.

“Track?” Luke asked. He wanted to go out for track, but he felt it would be a slap in the face to Troy.

“Yeah. Now’s your chance to run track and you’re sitting around watching TV.”

“I’m spending time with you.”

“You
can
run track and yet you’re sitting around on your butt. You take everything for granted. If you
can
do it, you should do it. I can’t believe you’re
not
doing it.”