Love's Miracles (10 page)

Zane
groaned as blackness began to engulf him. A dark hole yawned and he started
toward it. What bliss to fall into oblivion.

“Zane!”
Vinnie slapped Zane on the cheek. The sharp pains threw bright lights into his
nightmare. “Zane. You all right? Answer me.”

Carefully,
Zane opened his eyes. The room spun in crazy circles. Vinnie, blurred and
fuzzy, knelt before him. Again, he slapped Zane’s face.

“Enough,”
Zane managed to gasp. If only Vinnie would let him be, he could close his eyes
and sink into the velvet sleep where nothing existed – no memories, no guilt,
no pain.

“Don’t
cop out on me.” Vinnie grabbed a handful of Zane’s T-shirt and yanked him into
a sitting position. “You’re going to listen to me for once. I’m not taking any
more of this.”

Zane
didn’t answer but took gulps of breath that matched his brother’s. They stared
across inches of charged space. Vinnie’s resistance surprised him. Zane had the
advantage of years and experience. When it came to a battle of wills, he’d
always won. But Vinnie wasn’t backing down. Without moving, he stared into
Zane’s eyes, watchful, alert, and not giving an inch.

“What
happened to the boat was not your fault. No lives were lost. So what’s eating
at you?”

Zane
stared at Vinnie. It wasn’t the incident with the fishing boat he’d sent out
against his better judgment. He knew a storm was sitting off the coast, but
Vinnie and the captain insisted on sending the boat out. The storm had been
hovering for days. They couldn’t afford to sit around waiting for it to decide
what to do. He’d conceded and they’d lost the boat. Fortunately the Coast Guard
had been near and they’d saved the men.

“I
came out here to recoup from that, Vinnie. But it’s not why I stayed.”

“What
is it then?”

“Who
knows? Maybe that shrink is right.” He saw Margo trying to pry the door open
with a metal bar. Persistent woman. He was too drained to even care. “Maybe it
started in Nam.”

“I
know it was no picnic in Nam. I know it took something out of you, but…”

Zane
growled. “You know nothing.”

He
started to back out of Vinnie’s grasp, but his brother tightened his hold. Zane
glared, but the accusation and condemnation in Vinnie’s eyes cut through his
defenses. He looked instead at the corded muscles of Vinnie’s arms as he
clenched Zane’s shirt.

“That’s
right. Blame me because I didn’t go.” Vinnie shoved with his fists, making
Zane’s head snap. “Is that what’s eating you? Trying to make me feel guilty?
The big martyr role because
you
suffered while
I
stayed at home?”

Vinnie
pushed again until Zane reached up and clenched Vinnie’s wrists. Vinnie froze
for endless seconds. His face turned red as anguish flared from his glare.
Suddenly he took a deep breath and shouted, “Stop punishing me!”

Pain
tore through Zane as Vinnie’s cry echoed in the room. Zane pressed on the
undersides of Vinnie’s wrists until he was released. Zane shoved, expecting
Vinnie to resist, but he didn’t. His brother’s expression crumbled as he
toppled backward on the floor where he sat, shoulders slumped and head bowed.
To Zane’s horror, Vinnie began to cry.

“Don’t
do this to me,” Zane murmured as helpless agony crippled his will.

“I
can’t take it anymore,” Vinnie sobbed. “I can’t stand to go home and see the
haunted look in Ma’s eyes. I can’t stand to return from every trip and see her
hope turn into sorrow because you aren’t with me.”

Stop
it! Don’t say it!
His mind screamed as he tried to block out the truth. He wouldn’t listen. He
couldn’t afford to.

“She
doesn’t understand, Zane. She torments herself, thinking she did something to
drive you away.”

God,
help me.
Zane closed his eyes. Ragged breaths tore at his lungs as he tried to block out
Vinnie’s words. They tortured him. He wanted to go back. Didn’t they know that?
But if any of them found out what he’d done that horrible day in the jungles of
Nam…

Sweat
poured off his brow and into his eyes, blinding him as he tore through the
tangled jungle growth. His arms burned with the heavy burden he carried. But he
ignored the pain. Fear drove him onward.

“It’s
no use, Zanelli. Put me down. You can make a run for it on your own.”

“Shut
up,” he growled between gulps of the humid and fetid air.

Suddenly
his feet sank into the boggy mud. He cursed as he tried to break the fall. From
the dark slime, he peered around. They were trapped. The swamp ahead was too
deep. Behind him he could hear the crashing noise and the high-pitched chatter
of the Vietcong as they closed in around the chopper. He clutched Al’s wounded
body against his chest, fighting off the waves of despair that threatened to
cave him in.

“I
hear ‘em.” Panic showed in the eyes of the injured man. “I’m scared.”

“What
the hell are you talking about?” Zane shifted uneasily as he tried to think of
where they could hide.

“They
don’t take wounded prisoners.” He yanked on Zane’s sweat-stained jungle
fatigues.

Zane
looked down at the broken fingers and the wild desperation in his friend’s
expression.

“You
know what they’ll do.”

Unwanted
memories focused. He and Al had run across the remains. American soldiers
staked out, skinned alive, and left to die a slow, torturous death. He
tightened his hold and struggled to stand.

“I’ll
get us out of here, Al. I promise.”

His
words were hardly uttered when he stumbled again. “God help me,” Zane cried
against fate.

Zane
shook his head to clear it of past ghosts. With effort he focused on Vinnie’s
words. Although they hurt, the accusations were better than the images.

“What
did we do, Zane? Did Ma say something? Did I?” Vinnie swiped at the moisture
coursing down his face. “We love you, Zane. You’ve got to come home.”

Zane
scarcely whispered, “I can’t.”

Vinnie
swore.

“It’s
not you. Or Ma.” Zane almost choked on the word. “It’s nothing she said. Tell
her that, Vinnie. Tell her…”

“No.
You tell her!” Vinnie shouted. “I’m not going to give her any more lies or
cover up with any more excuses. You do it. Leave me out of it.”

“It
won’t work.”

Vinnie
scrambled to his knees and pierced Zane with his stare. “How do you know that?
You haven’t even tried. Give Devaull a chance. If not for yourself, do it for
Ma. She needs you, Zane.”

A
moan filled the room. In a vague part of his mind, Zane knew it was his own
voice that cried out. The sound of it sent shivers down his spine. He’d heard
it before, in the fetid jungles of Nam and here in the redwoods, at night in
his dreams. Maybe Margo Devaull could put an end to it. Maybe there was hope.

“She’s
good, Zane. She’s worked with stress.”

He
qualified for that category.

Vinnie
paused. Zane could feel the stare boring into him. He remained still,
implacable until Vinnie’s shout stiffened his slumped back.

“Are
you listening to me? Have you heard a word I’ve said?” Vinnie struggled to his
feet where he swayed from his emotions. “This is it, Zane. You accept help or
you’re on your own. I’m not coming up here anymore.”

Again
fear curled. Vinnie had never delivered ultimatums before; not to him, anyway.
He knew it would be better for Vinnie and Ma if he cut the last tie. But he
wasn’t sure he could.

Zane
stood, fighting the shakes that were creeping upward. His voice was hardly a
hoarse whisper when he finally managed to gasp, “Go home, Vinnie.”

Vinnie
stiffened, but there was a sad light in his eyes. “I’ll go back to the cabin
and wait. You stay here and consider what this means. You think careful and
hard – about Ma, me, Sara, and the kids. Then you come tell me if you want me
to go home.”

For
endless seconds Vinnie stared. Zane read the hurt, the pleading, the pain. It
took effort not to shut it out and pretend it didn’t exist. That’s what he’d
done all these years: pretend, hide, take the easy way out.

Zane
reached his hands toward his brother, but Vinnie backed away. The tracks of
Vinnie’s tears still traced across his face and Zane knew the hurt would never
go away.

Slowly
Vinnie turned and walked toward the door.
Come back
, Zane wanted to
shout, but he remained silent as he watched his brother disappear.

Abruptly
Zane swung toward his workbench, clenching his fists against unwanted memories.
It didn’t help. Vinnie’s words haunted him as he pounded on the unfinished wood
until thoughts of Margo Devaull replaced the bitter exchange. She was calm and
patient. Maybe she could relieve the ache that tore at his insides. A sigh of
hope rustled through the cobwebs of despair.

***

Vinnie,
with shirt torn, sweat pouring down his skin, paused before he brushed past
Margo.

She
reached for him and halted his progress. “What was that all about? You need
ice?” She studied the cut across his swollen eye and decided it wasn’t as bad
as it looked.

Before
Vinnie could answer, she went on. “Does Zane look as bad as you? I’ll take
him…”

“No.
Don’t. He’s not hurt. Physically anyway.”

Vinnie
took a shaky breath. “We had it out. Said a lot of things.”

His
pause dragged on until she became impatient, and finally asked, “And?”

“I
gave him an ultimatum. Told him I wasn’t coming back unless he accepted your
help.”

“Vinnie,”
she sighed, dismayed and disappointed. An ultimatum was the worst thing he
could have done in a situation like this. She refrained from telling him so
because it was obvious he sensed his mistake. His shoulders were slumped and
defeated-looking. It was tempting to give him reassurance, but she didn’t have
time. “You go back to the cabin and wait for us. I’ll go talk to him.”

If
Vinnie hadn’t locked her out of the workshop neither one of them would be in
such bad shape now.

Vinnie
stared across the meadow for several minutes and then turned suddenly to face
her. “What am I going to do if he refuses?”

“Miracles
do happen,” she murmured more to herself than Vinnie.

“I’m
praying because it’s going to take one.”

Margo
supposed Vinnie had his own brand of miracle making. She’d mentioned the
possibility, but only as a figure of speech. Miracles hadn’t saved her father.
They wouldn’t help Zane. Action, therapy, and counseling were needed and Margo
grew more and more determined that Zane would get them – not just for his sake,
she realized, but for his family too.

Vinnie
headed for the cabin and Margo went to the door of the workshop and stepped
inside. Sunlight filtered in shafts as it reflected off the dust motes stirred
up by the fight. Zane slumped on the floor against the workbench, his feet
sprawled out in front of him.

Margo
walked slowly, observing features that were drained of all emotion. Her heart
responded to the weary expression. When he didn’t react to her presence, she
eased herself on the floor and sat beside him.

She
took a deep, calming breath and modulated her voice into a soothing tone. “You
know I did my internship at the Veteran’s Administration in Palo Alto. I worked
with many victims of stress. And what I saw back there in the kitchen just now
were strong indications of stress disorder.”

He
shifted and she knew he was going to protest. She lifted her hand and halted
his words. “I know you don’t think so, but…”

“The
war was twenty years ago. It’s forgotten.”

“Is
it?”

His
features stiffened as he shut his eyes tight. She could feel the resistance in
him.

“Can
we just talk about it? For a few minutes.”

“Like
your last fifteen-minute discussion?”

She
inwardly cheered. He was regaining his spirit.

“You
said you were in the Marines, didn’t you?”

He
nodded.

“What
was your M.O.S.?”

“Oh-three-three-one.”

“Infantry.
Machine guns. Were you a gunner on a helicopter?”

“A
CH-46. You must’ve seen my file.”

“Just
your discharge papers. They don’t say much.” It always surprised patients that
she could speak military lingo. She’d made a point of learning it. At times,
like now, her credibility gave her an edge. “Where’d you train? Camp
Pendleton?”

“Followed
by Camp Le Jung in North Carolina and on to Okinawa for helicopter training.”

“You
mentioned you were in Nam in sixty-seven.”

“That’s
right,” he agreed.

“During
the Tet Offensive. Were you based at Da Nang?”

She
could feel his stare and returned it. New respect reflected in his eyes that
she accepted without comment. Often veterans felt bitter toward help from people
who had no idea where they were coming from. While working at the V.A., she’d
made it a point to learn everything she could about the war. It had paid off
like it was doing now. The tension was beginning to ease from Zane.